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endzithefangirl · 4 months ago

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"I'm gong to put 'being a WAG' on my CV"

Authors note: Here's a little Max Verstappen x TechCEO!Reader. Bet you didn't see that comng. Anyway, got the idea for this a few days ago, and I guess my love of Italian food made me finish this

Summary: Max's new relatioship causes a social media stir, but the new couple couldn't care less whilst in Italy.

Warnings: English isn't my first language, no use of Y/N, female reader, famous reader

Word count: 2k

You understood it, to a degree. Max had just broken off a three-year-long relationship right before summer break, and now suddenly he was spending the summer with you. Now you’re at the paddock... No wonder people thought there was some crossover.

The truth? You two met last New Year's at a party for some sporting event. You, being one of the sponsors for your country's national sports committee, were invited, and Max... well, Max was Max Verstappen. You hit it off, exchanged numbers, showed him around your company a few times, and took him to all of your favorite restaurants in NYC. But you knew he had a girlfriend; everyone knew. And he was taking care of her kid too.

That breakup was hard on him. He had stopped loving her, but he couldn't just kick a woman and her kid out of his house. Max waited for them to have a huge fight, and then they just... broke up. And to your surprise, he was in New York the next day, saying that he needed someone to talk to. Bullshit. You knew he liked you. Otherwise, he wouldn't have come all the way here 'just to talk.'

But here you were, in Italy, spending time with him before Monza. You were currently typing away on your phone, trying to make peace in the finance department. Max glanced up from his phone every so often, stealing peeks at you while grinning.

He had never quite been so into someone like you. You were smart, funny, talented, pretty, and on top of all that - you were also rich. But you were also the most challenging girl to flirt with Max had ever met.

"You look like you could use a break," he said, after watching you tap away at your work laptop for a few minutes.

"Probably. What's the point of having interns if they don't do anything?"

"Then you should consider hiring me; I'm pretty good at helping out," Max teased, looking up from his phone and sending you a cheeky smile. He loved a woman who was in power, who knew what she was doing, and he could tell you were used to being the boss. "Come on, take a break. You know you deserve it," Max encouraged, resting his hand on top of yours to stop you from working some more.

"I guess I could eat…" You say, closing your laptop. "I saw on Google Maps that there’s a nice pizza place down the road. We can go if you’re hungry.”

Max smiled and nodded. “Yes, I’m starving; let’s go,” he said, reaching for the car keys.

“No, it’s okay, let’s walk,” you stop him. He turned towards you, slightly confused. Usually, women would give anything to drive around with Max Verstappen. Maybe that’s just what makes you special.

The two of you walked out of the hotel, your bodyguard Lenny standing outside the door. The tall, muscular man just nodded as the two of you entered the elevator. Max found it funny that you preferred Lenny guard your stuff more than you. Especially the laptop. He sometimes wondered what you kept in there...

“Is Pierre gonna be at the race?” you asked as you exited the building, breaking the silence.

Max’s head snapped towards you, and he raised his brow. “Uh, yes, of course he is… Why?”

“Because I want to see Kika.”

“Oh, so she’s your secret F1 crush, eh?” Max said, relaxing.

You laughed. “Pierre is a solid seven with a better haircut. Kika is a twelve on a bad day.”

As you got to the bigger streets, you started to understand why Max drove everywhere. Unlike you, who were a chiller and niche celebrity, despite being incredibly rich, Max was a real superstar. Your short walk to the pizza shop became a fan meet and greet, with people coming up to you every three seconds and asking for photos.

“Is this your girlfriend?” one of the people asking for a picture asked. As you finished taking the photo, you noticed Max’s slightly flustered face as he heard the question. He stumbled, but you answered with a simple “Yeah.”

As you arrived at the restaurant, you noticed that Max was staring at you. He seemed… surprised. You laughed at his facial expression. The sound of your laugh calmed him instantly, his heartbeat beginning to return to normal. Max cursed himself in his head; he was better than this. He chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Is it something I said?"

Max ran a hand through his hair, feeling his cheeks heating up slightly. "No, no... Not really," he reassured you, trying to sound casual. "I was just... thinking."

"Okay, well I'm thinking about the food. I think a Vesuvius sounds great right now."

Max chuckled and quickly glanced down at the menu to hide his embarrassment. "Vesuvius? What the hell is a Vesuvius?" he asked, though his eyes scanned down the menu, searching for it.

"It's a type of pizza," you teased. "It's been like three minutes; have you not even skimmed the menu?"

Max fidgeted under your gaze, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks again. "What?" he asked with a nervous chuckle. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You tell me. Why are you staring?" Max shook his head, glancing up at you questioningly. He had no idea what you were thinking about. "No... What are you thinking about?" he asked, his curiosity getting the best of him.

"There are pots from 4000 years ago found in ancient Egypt that are made out of an incredibly difficult to manage material and are cut to such perfection that they balance on their round bottom."

Max's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He was expecting something totally different. Something that had at least a little bit to do with him. He chuckled, still somewhat surprised as he studied your face. "Where did that come from?" he asked incredulously.

"The Egyptians. They were like, cooking pots and stuff. Royal cooking pots probably, but still," you teased.

Max chuckled again, shaking his head in disbelief. "You're thinking about cooking pots, and here I am, just trying to figure out what I did to make you say that we're together so casually."

"What do you mean? Are we not together?"

"Well, of course we're together," Max said, his voice taking on a more serious tone now. He glanced around the restaurant briefly, making sure no one was listening in on their conversation. "I just... I didn't expect you to say it so casually," he said, his eyes meeting yours again.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't know we were keeping it a secret. I mean, I was at the paddock and all last time, and I took days off work to come to this race—"

Max shook his head, realizing you completely misunderstood what he was saying. "No, no, it's not that... I just..." he began, struggling to find the right words. He took a deep breath, his fingers fidgeting in his lap. "It's just... you're so casual about it... and I'm... a bit too flustered for my own good," he admitted, a tinge of embarrassment in his voice.

You softened up a bit. "Oh, okay, I get it. It was just a bit too shocking for you... Yeah, sorry."

Max felt his heartbeat a little faster when you softened, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Yeah, it was a bit... unexpected for me," he chuckled, feeling somewhat silly for being so flustered. "But it's fine, honestly."

"Do you think my stomach is gonna have space for gelato later? There's a really good gelateria; I can see it from the window... They make the ones with the macarons..."

Max chuckled, loving how you were so excited about the gelato. "Well, based on the amount of pizza you usually eat," he teased, a smirk on his face. "I'd say you're probably fine."

"No, they put the macarons on the gelato."

"On the gelato?" Max repeated, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

"I've never heard of such a thing," he said, leaning forward to get a better look out the window at the gelateria you were talking about. "Well, in that case," he said with a grin, "we're definitely going there for dessert."

After eating so much that your belts barely held, you came back to the hotel, Lenny greeting you at the door as usual. Max's stomach was stuffed to the brim, but he was in such a good mood from the good food and even better company, he didn't even care. He walked back into the hotel together with you, his hand still holding yours. Lenny greeted the two of you as usual, but Max couldn't help but notice the way Lenny looked at you, like he was analyzing you.

"All good, Len. You go to your room for the night," you said to Lenny. He nodded, smiled at the both of you, and then went off. Max watched as Lenny walked off, then turned to you, a small frown on his face.

"He was looking at you funny," he said, a protective edge to his voice.

"He thinks it's funny. That I'm dating a Formula 1 driver."

"What's so funny about that?" he protested, his grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly. "He just... I don't know, he's a big fan of yours I don't think he's processed it yet". Max's frown relaxed as you explained it, his ego immediately soothed a bit. Of course he was a big fan of his, who wasn't?

"Oh, so he's a big fan?" he teased, a hint of pride and cockiness in his voice.

You take your shoes off and lay on the bed, your stomach bloated from all the good food "Yeah. Talk to him a bit, I think it'll make him happy" You let out groan as you move "I hate you Italy. You has so much good food... I love it though"

Max chuckled, watching as you dramatically threw yourself onto the bed, your stomach protesting the amount of food you just had. "You're such a drama queen sometimes," he teased, grinning as he took off his shoes as well and joined you on the bed. He lays down beside you, running a hand over your bloated stomach. "You'll be fine," he said, though there was a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Oh, you know what I saw on TikTok?"

Max raised an eyebrow in curiosity, his hand now resting on your stomach. He didn't typically pay too much attention to TikTok, but he was more than happy to listen to you.

"What did you see?" he asked, turning his head to look at you.

"Well first of all, I'm a WAG now. Thank you for that, I will be putting that on my CV. But second, they liked that I was wearing Red Bull merch. I thought they wouldn't like it, but they did"

Max chuckled as you spoke, amused by how casually you mentioned being a WAG, and how seriously you were taking the fact that you were wearing Red Bull merchandise. "Well, of course they liked it," he said with a smirk. "You were wearing the merch of the best team out there."

He gave you a smug look, his hand moving up and tracing a lazy pattern on your stomach. "Not to mention the merch of the best driver out there."

#max verstappen #max verstappen imagine #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #max verstappen x reader #f1 #formula 1

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bigboy-lovers-unite-writes · 3 months ago

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Imagine slapping their asses 🙏🙏

•Dutch; immediately pissed off, depends on who slapped his ass, he might push his cigar into their arm or something out of anger. Will grumble if it's his partner and shoo them away, smokes enough cigarettes after that to take away ten years on his life (it definitely made a camp deafening sound when they slapped it)

•Arthur; the most shocked face ever, just has to stand there for a minute to figure out whatever the fuck just happened. Will stumble over his words, before glaring at the person and chest bump them a few times, but secretly he's nearly popping a boner 💔💔

•John; eye twitches, trying to hold back grabbing his revolver and threatening the person. Says something sarcastic and crosses his arms like the dumb child he is. Will definitely be so damn embarrassed that he flushes as red as Sean's hair. Definitely blabs about it to Abigail later and gets huffy when she laughs

•Hosea; jumps a foot in the air and his body bends like a banana 😭 he's not mad, he'd never get mad, but he is a bit embarrassed about that. He sighs softly, tells a little story about his youth and how he would be able to handle it when he was younger as he rubbed his sore ass, then says he's too old for all that 🫶🫶

•Javier; yells out the loudest Spanish he's ever said, nearly falls forward from the shock of it as both hands go to cover his ass. Can't see it since he pulls his poncho up over his entire face, but he is burning bright red and thinking about it for the rest of the month. Will never trust being around the person again, will side eye them and cover his ass with anything if he's around them again 😢

•Bill; Two different ways this could go. One, he's drunk as a bitch and he hurls a beer bottle them and starts cursing and chasing them all over yelling about how he's no queer, even if it was a woman that slapped his ass, or he will just glare and threaten them a little bit and try to intimidate them if by god he's not drunk

•Kieran; actually stands up straight for once instead of being like a shrimp literally 24/7. Looks like a bug when you pick up a rock, eyes all wide and face flushed even pinker than it usually already naturally is. Definitely looks spaced out the rest of the day, probably can't stop thinking about it for sure

•Sean; gasps and is completely over dramatic, falling and pulling whoever slapped his ass down with him. Definitely tells everyone that the person slapped his ass, and he sounds strangely proud about it too..

•Lenny; poor boy doesn't know what to do, he's stuttering and gripping at his favorite book that he was reading, glancing around as he tried to say something. Might quirk a smile after a while, but it's whenever that person isn't around (he's so embarrassed don't do it again he can't handle it 💔)

•Micah; immediately cracks up and dares the person to slap his ass again, sticking it out slightly. He then promptly slaps that person's ass twenty times harder than they slapped his. It becomes a little game between the two whenever they see each other

•Charles; the absolute politest, might get a bit grumbly. 'oh my' is the first words outta his mouth 😭 will ask them why they did that and if it was supposed to be funny. He's like a mother in this sense, but also can't stop grinning since he actually liked it ❤️

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demonwebs · 3 months ago

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vhaal vc: yeah yeah , mock my strength . and what r u gonna do when the armies of people and gods and eldritch abominations that r madly in love w me come for u huh?? HUH

#vhaal w his forefinger pressed to his nose bridge anime style #oh foolish mortal....... i see u have forgotten......... abt my charisma status #*pulls the flynn rider smolder*#.......what r u doing w that pan wAIT #˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚ ooc — lenny.

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months ago

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Down Home 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as non/dubcon, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: The world's most famous heroes walk into a small town diner and change your life.

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

Note: Because of this.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all to Jupiter and back. Take care. 💖

It’s a slow day. Every day is slow out in Tumble Down. The township’s name tells the whole story. Everything there is in decline. It’s hard to imagine there was ever a time when the people weren’t tiny and forgotten in the hubbub of the bigger world. Since the mines closed and the canning factory was outsourced, it feels even smaller.

Smaller isn’t so bad. It’s simpler. You all know each other’s names and faces. You say hi and how are you and do what needs to be done. Simple is, simple as.

You here there isn’t much to do in most small towns. Not for fun or for work. You’re one of the lucky ones. You got a job down at the diner in your sophomore year. It helped pay for your daddy’s new engine and since then, it keeps you all afloat in the rising waters of disparity as they close in on Tumble Down.

You hum to the old radio that sits on the shelf you make sure to dust. The speakers crackle from time to time and the signal gets wonky in storm season, but the music’s never bad. It’s the classic stuff that always played in your mother’s kitchen.

You wipe down another table. Not because it needs it, just because it’s something to do. The day has been long and listless. Even the breakfast rush was lower than usual.

Darnell, the cook, whistles along from the back. Everyone knows he isn’t as mean as he looks. He just likes his space.

As you go back to the counter and lean on it, staring at the ticking clock, a roar cuts through the distance. You blink and look up, narrowing your eyes at the dusty country road outside. Wind rustles through the tall wheat in the field opposite and the noise rumbles closer and closer.

A man pulls in a motorbike. He’s going so fast that he has to circle the gravel lot before he can slow down. It’s not Lenny and his prized Harley but another man on a more modern-looking mount. Not far behind, another motorcycle zips through and the riders straddle their bikes as the survey the restaurant.

You narrow your eyes. You probably need glasses but you make do. The last time you got your eyes checked, you didn’t have enough for the frames.

The one man wears blue and red, an odd helmet on his head. Not a helmet at all but a sort of mask. The other man has dark hair to his chin and a beard to match. He’s all in black but his left arm shines with gold ripples. Not a sleeve, an arm, made of metal.

“Oh my lord,” you murmur in shock, “Darnell!” You holler over your shoulder, “you’re not gonna believe this.” You turn to the window as he pokes his head around, “not sure I do myself. Tell me my eyes aren’t lyin’.”

He looks above your head, an easy task for the mammoth cook. He hums and swirls around his spatula. “Thems those boys on the news. The one that was in the old war. Grandad’s battle.”

“I’m not going crazy with boredom?” You bubble.

He snorts. It’s as close to a laugh as you get from him. You spin back and hurry around the counter to grab a pair of menus. Still, you don’t want to seem too eager. You put down the menus and fiddle with a napkin holder instead.

The bell over the door jingles and swipe up the menus and turn. You really can’t believe it’s them. Yet, as Captain America removes his cowl, you’re certain. They look just like they do on the TV. Even with your sight, you can tell.

“Hello, fellas, how are you doin’ today?”

The dark-haired one, the Winter Soldier, glances at the other, his cheek dimpling, “well... we’re... uh...”

“We’re doing great,” Steve Rogers answers brightly. “Starving. You guys serve bacon? My buddy’s dying for some.”

“Um, yes, sirs, yes. Can I sit ya down?” You ask, hugging the menus closer.

“Please,” the Captain accepts as the other man stays silent and pensive, his eyes wandering down to the coffee stain on your apron.

“Just here,” you sweep away and wave them on with you. You stop beside the nicest booth and lay down a menu on each side, “have a seat.”

They do just as you bid. The blond puts his cowl on the table and unhooks the shield from his back to lay on the far end of the seat. He smooths back the sweaty strands of hair as his companion stretches his metal fingers. You sway nervously by the table, twitching as you remind yourself how to do your job.

“Well, can I get ya started with coffee? You look beat from the road.” You beam with the smile Mr. Welk says could outshine the sun.

“Not just the road,” the dark-haired one mutters as he rolls his shoulder. The one that connects to his real arm. “I’ll take one, please.”

“Can I get an orange juice, please,” the Captain asks.

“Course ya can. I’ll be right back. You have a look at the specials and give it a think,” you bounce and spin around.

You go to pour the orange juice and a cup of black coffee. Darnell lingers by the window. He only ever really appears to put a plate up but he watches the new arrivals.

You bring their drinks and step back, clasping your hands behind you.

“Did ya need cream or sugar for your coffee, sir?” You ask.

“Black’s fine,” he assures.

“No need for the sirs. Steve, Bucky,” Captain America insists, “we’re off duty.”

“Right, sorry about that, ssss...Steve,” you correct yourself. “You need some more time?”

“Think I’m decided,” Bucky intones, “what about you?”

“Set,” Steve confirms, “I’ll have the sunny side up with toast and sausage. Can I get some fruit on the side as well, please?”

He hands over the menu and you take it as you hold your smile. Your cheeks ache. Not because you have to force it but because you can’t stop. This is the most exciting thing to happen in Tumble Down ever. If Darnell wasn’t there, no one would believe you.

“Overeasy, bacon, extra bacon too, and some french toast, and uh... home fries.” Bucky offers up the second menu, “please and thank you.”

“Alrighty,” you preen, “I’ll put your order in.”

“Got it,” Darnell growls over the empty diner.

“He’s got good hearing,” you giggle nervously as you look between the men. “Ummmm, sorry, I’ll leave ya be.”

“You’re not bothering,” Steve assures. “I can see you’re dying to ask.”

He gives a gentle smile.

“Nah, oh, gosh. I’m sure ya get it all the time. I don’t wanna be one of those,” you put your hands up. “Really, you all look like you could use the peace and quiet.”

“Well, actually, I’ve been stuck with this meathead for days,” Bucky scoffs, “so please, I’d love to hear someone else’s voice.”

You laugh again. They’re funnier than you expect. They always look so serious on the TV.

“What... what are y’all doing here in Tumble Down? It’s a bit far from... anywhere.” You ask sheepishly.

“Tumble Down? Is that what it’s called?” Steve scratches his neck above his stained collar. “Well, we couldn’t get a signal so we’ve just been riding through. Saw the sign down the way and figured we’d get a bite.”

“He’s lying. He was falling asleep on his bike,” Bucky teases.

“Sure,” Steve shakes his head. “Only ‘cause I’m tired of you.”

You giggle again, “I thought y’all were friends.”

“Friends, partners, cursed with each other, have your pick,” Bucky snorts.

“He’s playing,” Steve says. “Look, we’re boring. Despite what you think. We’re a couple of old men bickering with each other. What about you? What about Tumble Down?”

“Ah, nothing really, sir. Steve,” you squeeze the menus tight at the edges. “Nothing going on since the coal law and that. Everyone’s all but run out. All but us.”

“Just you? Your family?” Steve wonders.

“Jesus, Steve, nosy much?” Bucky says over the brim of his mug.

“Sorry. He’s right. Like I said. Crotchety old man. I talk to the pigeons.”

You laugh again, “oh my, you are a hoot!” You slap your thigh emphatically, “I’m still my ma and pa. It’s just the three of us. They need help with the animals and that.”

“Animals?” Steve wonders, his posture shifting towards you.

“Chickens, cows. They got a farm. Was my grandpa’s. And his ma kept it going after he didn’t come home from... well, you’d know more about that time than me, I think.” You give a forlorn look to the floor.

“Oh, I’m so sorry about your grandfather. Great grandfather,” he corrects himself.

“Lotta good men gone,” Bucky mulls grimly.

“Yeah, my great granny said as much. I wouldn’t know though, but I heard the stories,” you dare to look at them again. “Sorry to bring up the bad memories.”

“Nah,” Bucky waves you off casually. “I got this nifty arm outta it.”

“And I got a shield so, you know, not all losses,” Steve chuckles.

“I s’pose,” you agree. “I’m gonna check on that food for ya. You good with your coffee?”

Bucky raises the mug, “delicious.”

You nod and turn with a swish of your skirt. You go up to the window and look over the ledge. “How’s it going, Darnell?”

“Going. I’m happy it ain’t Raylene here. She’s got a mouth on her, don’t she? Them sort don’t deserve that trouble,” he tisks.

“They’re nice. And Raylene is too. She’s just... Raylene,” you say, “can I help with anything?”

“I don’t wanna be rude but I’m tired of tellin’ ya to stay outta my kitchen. You know the grill likes to spit,” he shakes his head. “You go, I’ll let ya know when it’s ready.”

“Alright,” you back away and turn back.

Steve and Bucky lean over the table, their voices low as they chat. As you move around behind the counter, they both sit up and the former clears his throat. You smile as you take the cloth from your apron pocket and wipe the already clean counter.

As the radio buzzes, you hum without thinking. Stevie Ray Vaughan’s smoky voice mingles with the emotion plucked through electric strings. Your dad’s a big fan. He has old tapes with concerts on them and even went to one himself.

The bell rings and you nearly jump out of your shoes. You turn and scoop up the plates as you thank Darnell. He grumbles that he’s going out to have a smoke; his code for having a Tootsie Pop by the backdoor.

You bring the meals over to the table and set them down before the men. Their gazes make you sweat. It’s all a little more intense with no one else there.

“Thank you,” Steve says and Bucky echoes him.

“Not at all. Anything else? Water? Ketchup?”

“It all looks great as is,” Steve says, “you got a nice voice.”

“Oh, really? Ha, I was just humming out of tune. Sorry if I was too loud.”

“Not at all,” Bucky picks up his fork as he leans forward. He tilts his head. “You know this one?”

“Sure do. It’s Fleetwood Mac,” you answer. “One my all times.”

He grins and nods as he looks at Steve. Steve watches you with a smile of his own.

“Do you sing?” He asks.

“Me? Only in my shower or to the chickens. They usually hide in the henhouse then.” You tinkle with laughter.

“Ah,” Steve nods.

“But if... if ya really wanna suffer, I could try it,” you smile, “but uh, you know, Stevie Nicks, she’s one of a kind.”

“I’ve had worse,” Steve says.

You look between him and Bucky. You chew your lip and think. You follow the song as you try to recognise which verse it is. You squint and perk up as you catch your place.

“You just let me know when you’ve had enough,” you say before you start. Not only can you tell your pa that you met the super soldiers, you can tell him you sang for them. It’ll be a nice bit of excitement for the dinner table.

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!steve rogers #dark!bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #mcu #captain america #down home #winter soldier #avengers

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dilf-issues · 6 months ago

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Big Bad Wolf & Little Lamb: Lesson 1. (C.M)

Synopsis: You met Maeve, your best friend, in College and over the years you have become two peas in a pod. Maeve decided to invite you back to her hometown in Ireland for the summer break and that’s where you met her dad, Cillian.

Warnings: EXPLICIT CONTENT AHEAD. Age Gap, (all legal of age), Corruption kink, Innocent! reader, Cillian’s massive tease, Sex, Oral Sex, Fingering, Cillian teaches the reader EVERYTHING. Virgin! Reader, inexperienced! Reader

Chapter warnings: sexual corruption, innocent reader, age gap, dom/sub, masturbation, voyeurism, sudden panty sniffing?

Disclaimer: THIS IS FICTION AND IT IS NOT REAL LIFE.

A/N: Cillian looks like Lenny Miller in this fic!

After months of planning, Maeve finally convinced me to come visit her countryside hometown during the summer break. As I stepped off the plane, the fresh Irish air filled my lungs, and the friendly smiles of the folks at the airport greeted me. Maeve was waiting for me outside, and she looked more radiant than ever in the warm Irish sunshine.

"You made it!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around me in a tight, familiar hug. I laughed, returning the embrace, and then we picked up my bags and made our way towards her car. As we drove out of the airport, the familiar countryside views and winding roads brought a sense of tranquility and anticipation for the adventure ahead.

Maeve chatted excitedly about all the things she wanted to show me – the breathtaking coastlines, charming villages, local festivals and hidden gems. Her enthusiasm was infectious, and I couldn't help but feel a thrill of anticipation for the adventures ahead.

As we drove, Maeve filled me in on her family situation. "You'll love my dad," she enthused. "His name's Cillian – he's a bit of a character, but he's a total softie at heart. My parents are divorced, so it's just the two of us."

“Is he a scary person?” I asked quietly. I don’t deal with strangers too well, and I am not exactly a friendly person. Not because I don’t want to, it is because I am socially anxious. When me and Maeve first met, she was the one who came up to me to pair for a group assignment. “I don’t want to bother him, that’s all”

Maeve chuckled, noticing the slight hint of trepidation on my face. "Don't worry," she said. "My dad's a sweetheart, I promise. He might seem intimidating at first – he's a big, well not really in height but in size, burly Irishman – but he's the gentlest person you'll ever meet."

“I hope he likes me, so we can stay friends” Maeve suddenly pinched my cheeks as I flushed at the gesture.

“Why are you such a cutie, Y/N!”

“I’m not!”

"Oh, he'll love you," Maeve reassured me, patting my knee. "He's always excited to meet my friends. Just be yourself, and you'll win him over in no time."

As we approached Maeve's home, I could feel my heart hammering in my chest. Meeting a friend's parent was always a nerve-wracking experience, and the fact that it was Maeve's dad – a man she clearly loved and respected – made it all the more intimidating.

“Why do I feel like I’m meeting your dad to have his permission to marry you” Maeve burst out laughing as she nodded in agreement. There was really nothing to be afraid off, but since I was a generally anxious, I couldn’t help it.

Maeve must have sensed my nerves because she squeezed my hand reassuringly. "You got this," she murmured, as we walked up the cobblestone pathway towards the front door.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the door and stepped into the cozy, welcoming home of Maeve's childhood. The sound of a friendly dog barking greeted us from the other room, and a moment later, an imposing figure strode into the hallway.

As Cillian stepped into the hallway to greet us, I couldn't help but internally gasp at his sheer presence. He was beautiful, with broad shoulders and a rugged, masculine air about him. His eyes were a light, piercing blue, and his dark hair was speckled with flecks of silver.

"Hello there, you must be Y/N," He said, his voice deep and gravelly. He smiled warmly, and I noticed the lines at the corners of his eyes, hinting at years of laughter and experience. “Maeve told me a lot about you, I’m pleased to have you here, love. Make yourself at home”

I felt shivers ran down my spine the minute I heard him talk, his voice was deep and smooth just like how you would feel drinking an expensive espresso if that’s how I could describe it. It’s a stupid comparison to say the least, but it is true.

I couldn’t even meet his eyes to greet him back, but I didn’t want to seem rude so I quickly glanced at him and for some reason bowed slightly, as I quietly replied, “Nice to meet you, Sir”

Cillian chuckled at my timid response, the sound rumbling deep in his chest like distant thunder. "No need to be nervous, lassie," he said, his accent thick and lilting. "I don't bite."

Maeve laughed as she gently nudged me, I stayed quiet still, “Sorry dad, she’s generally like this”

“It’s alright” I heard him respond. I didn’t know how to describe it but someone I can feel his gaze burning holes into me, as if he was studying me from the top of my head until the bottoms of my feet, “Well, why don’t both of you settle in. Maeve, get the darling settled into the guest bedroom, will you”

Maeve excitedly pulls me upstairs, as I followed her. However, I felt like I needed to take a last glance at Cillian and when I looked back,

He was already looking right at me.

My heart pounded in my chest as I quickly averted my gaze from him, running along with Maeve. Cillian on the other hand, I couldn’t read his expression. He wasn’t smiling, nor did he looked angry. He just stared at me with this look on his face that I couldn’t exactly describe.

“How old is your dad?” I asked, curious of his age since his appearance looks quite youthful for his age.

“He is 47, why?” Maeve replied absentmindedly, helping me unpacked all of my clothes and putting them in the closet.

“Nothing, I’m just curious” I muttered, as I joined her.

Maeve suddenly stopped what she was doing, “You don’t have a crush on my dad now, do you?” She pointed out, accusingly.

My eyes widened as I violently shook my head, “No! What are you talking about?!”

“Okay good, I trust you” I raised my brows at her, “It’s just that most of my friends fancies him, that’s all. The most disgusting thing is they keep trying to make advances towards my dad. I don’t know what they see in him, ugh” Maeve cringed as her whole body shook as if she was shuddering.

“N-No, you know I would never do that to you” In someways, saying that seemed wrong.

“I know. Out of all my friends you are the only ‘good’ ones and I’m pretty sure you won’t try to fuck my dad”

“That’s crazy, Maeve. Did any of your friends tried to do that?”

“Trust me, most of them do. But whenever they do, my dad just tells me to never invite them over again” I nodded, not replying anything to her story.

Of course, I wouldn’t do that to Maeve. Hell, I wouldn’t even touch any men with a ten-foot pole. Not that I’ve had anyone taking their interest in me, I was mostly too focused on my studies to even notice. All my life, it had always been about studying and succeeding and it wasn’t even because of peer pressure from my family, it’s just because I really enjoyed it.

So even if somebody liked me, I wouldn’t want to do anything with it.

After a few hours of catching up, the house grew quiet as night fell outside. I laid in bed for a while, but eventually, my thirst got the better of me. Quietly, I got up and crept downstairs, not wanting to wake anyone.

The house was silent as I padded down the stairs and into the kitchen, flicking on the light.

As I poured myself a glass of water, I heard a faint shuffling sound from another room. Curiosity getting the better of me, I turned to see a dim light coming from the living room. Peering through the door, I saw Cillian sitting in an armchair, nursing a glass of whiskey.

He looked up, seeing me standing in the doorway. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "Having trouble sleeping?" he asked, his voice a soft rumble in the quiet room.

I blushed, feeling a little embarrassed at being caught. "Just got thirsty," I said, holding up my water glass sheepishly.

I was just about to turn and go back upstairs, but Cillian's voice halted me. "Come sit for a spell," he said, gesturing to the armchair opposite his. "It's lonely drinking alone."

I wanted to reject his offer but it would have seemed rude and I didn’t want to make that impression of being Maeve’s best friend.

I hesitated for a moment, feeling a mix of shyness and curiosity. Finally, I padded into the room, settling into the armchair across from Cillian. The light from the side lamp cast a warm glow on his features, making them look even more rugged and handsome.

Cillian took a slow sip of his whiskey, studying me from across the room. "So, Y/N, tell me about yourself," he said, leaning back in his chair. His gaze was intense, but not unkind.

“Um... There’s not really much to talk about... I’m not an interesting person” For some reason, speaking to him made my voice slower, as if I was scared of him. But I wasn’t, I was merely nervous about his presence.

“I think you are... Maeve told me you’re a great student” Cillian imposed, “She told me about how good you are in school”

My eyes widened slightly, “So basically Maeve told you I’m a nerd?” I groaned quietly, there was a small part of me that wanted him to think I was cool which was pathetic.

Cillian chuckled, shaking his head, “I’m not sure being a nerd is a bad thing, love. I think it’s great” He smirked.

There it is again, the pet names. The pet names made me feel butterflies in my tummy like a stupid school girl who has a crush on their teacher.

“It just means you are dedicated to your studies and I admire that, I’m glad Maeve became friends with someone like you” I muttered a silent ‘thanks’ at his statement but I didn't really know what to say afterward. There was a deafening silence between the two of us, I just sat in front of him quietly as I kept drinking my water. I was looking at the fireplace as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. However, the hairs on the back of my neck kept standing up because I knew Cillian was staring at me intently, his gaze never breaking from my figure.

There he goes again, looking at me as if he was studying me.

“Are you scared of me, darling?” Cillian broke the silence, making you jump slightly when you heard his voice. “You won’t even look me in the eyes”

I blushed heavily, caught off guard by his direct question. I had been trying to avoid looking directly at him, feeling intimidated by his intense gaze. I stammered a bit before finally meeting his eyes.

"I'm sorry," I said, my voice sounding small in the quiet room. "I don't mean to be rude, it's just... you're kind of intimidating."

“Am I, now?” I nodded in response, still not looking at him. “Look at me while you are talking to me before I make you”

I felt a shiver run down my spine at the change in his tone. I looked up to meet his gaze, my heart beat quickening. His eyes seemed to pierce through me, their deep blue hue holding me captive.

“There you go, darlin’,” Cillian said, his voice softer now. “It’s not so hard, is it?” He took another sip of his whiskey, studying me over the rim of his glass.

“No,” I muttered, unable to look away from his piercing gaze. “It’s just...you’re so intense." My voice was barely above a whisper.

Cillian hummed, “You know, the previous girls Maeve brought home they weren’t so scared of me”

I blinked, surprised by his comment. "They weren't?" I asked, feeling a pang of self-consciousness. "Is it a bad thing that I am slightly intimidated by you?”

“No...” For some reason, Cillian had stood up from his armchair, walking towards me with the whiskey glass still in his hands. Cillian walked over to the empty side of the sofa I was sitting in and took a seat. With every step he took, I could feel my heart beating faster and faster.

I couldn't help but feel a flutter of nervousness as he approached me, his large form seeming even more imposing in the intimate space of the living room. He settled in beside me on the sofa, his thigh mere inches from mine.

I could feel his warmth radiating from his body, and the scent of his cologne filled my senses. I tried to remain calm, taking slow, deep breaths to steady my racing heart.

“Every time she brought them over, I felt like throwing them out. It seems like their parents don’t teach them...” He paused before taking a sip of his whiskey, “...Manners”

I felt a lump form in my throat, feeling a mix of shame and fear. I knew I hadn't been very good at hiding my timid behavior, and now it seemed like I was being called out for it.

"I...I'm sorry," I mumbled, still unable to tear my gaze away from his intense eyes. "I'll try to be better."

“Such a good girl, aren’t you?” He muttered, my face burned even hotter at his words. I was used to being called ‘good’ by my parents or my teachers, but coming from Cillian’s mouth, it sounded different, deeper, and more intimate.

I fidgeted slightly under his gaze, feeling both flustered and strangely drawn to him.

"Thanks..." I murmured, not quite sure how to respond. I took a sip of my forgotten water, trying to hide my shaky hands. The silence stretched out between us, and I could feel Cillian’s gaze still on me, studying me intently.

"You're different from the other girls Maeve brought home," he said suddenly, his voice seeming to echo through the quiet room. "I can see it in your eyes, you've got a hint of...timidity."

I felt embarrassed at his accurate observation, but there was something else in his tone that made me shiver. Was it mockery, or was there a hint of something different? I couldn't quite tell.

I nodded slowly, not trusting myself to speak. I could feel his gaze on me, like a physical weight against my skin. I fidgeted with the hem of my t-shirt, feeling strangely out of sorts.

"There's nothing wrong with a little bit of timidity," he said, his voice a low rumble. “But a girl like you...you'll need someone to bring you out of your shell, teach you how to be brave.”

“What do you mean by that Sir?” I suddenly got curious. Cillian took a deep breath, realizing how innocent I was.

‘How can you not know what he was trying to do?’ He thought to himself.

“Call me Cillian for now my love, save the honorifics somewhere else, yeah?” Cillian was hinting at me but of course, I didn’t know the context of his words. “I’m sure you can call me, Sir... Sometime in the future”

“What do you mean?” I repeated the same question again, it seemed like Cillian was speaking words with double meanings that I could just not understand.

“If you keep calling me that, I might do something that I’ve been dying to do since you walked into my house, pet”

I felt my cheeks flush at his words. I had never called anyone 'Sir' before, but something in the way Cillian said it made me shiver. I felt torn between my natural nervous nature and a strange, unexpected curiosity at the thought of submitting to him.

“O-Okay, I’m sorry Cillian...”

“How are you such a good girl, hmm? You listen to everything I say”

I felt a flutter of flattery at his words, and a small part of me liked the way ‘good girl’ sounded coming from his mouth.

"I try to be... respectful," I mumbled, feeling a bit self-conscious. "It's how my parents raised me, I guess."

Cillian chuckled softly, the sound sending a shiver down my spine. "Your parents raised you well," he said, his eyes never leaving me. "They taught you how to listen, how to behave. But have they ever taught you how to be disobedient?"

“N-No... I never had to”

Cillian hummed in acknowledgement, the corners of his lips twitching into a small smirk. "That's what I thought," he murmured, his voice low and gravelly. "You've always done what you're told, haven't you, darlin'? Never questioned it, not even for a second?"

I nodded, feeling a bit bashful under his intense gaze. "I...I guess so..." I mumbled, fidgeting with my fingers. "I don't like making waves. It's just...easier to follow the rules, you know?"

Cillian chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down my spine once again. "You're a rule-follower," he said, his tone almost amused. "You always do what you're told, never rock the boat, yeah? But deep down, darlin', don't you ever wonder what it would be like to be a little... mischievous?"

As he said that, I noticed he sat closer and closer to me. His arms rested on the back of the sofa and I felt myself getting smaller. I gripped the glass in my hands tightly as I decided to set it on the coffee table before I actually break it.

I felt myself becoming increasingly aware of my own small, trembling form. It was like I was being swallowed up by Cillian's presence, his large frame dominating the space between us. I fidgeted with the hem of my t-shirt, trying to keep my hands from shaking too visibly.

“I-I don’t know... I’ve never had the thought of it I guess...” I responded as he smirked.

“Tell me now, do you have a boyfriend?”

“No, I’ve never had one” I felt my heart skip a beat at his question. It was such a personal, direct question, and coming from Cillian's mouth, it felt oddly intimate. I blushed heavily and shook my head, feeling a mix of shyness and... something else I couldn't quite identify.

"No boyfriend, huh?" he murmured, his voice a low rumble. "A pretty thing like you, I'm surprised." He shifted slightly, his body moving even closer to mine on the sofa, “That’s good”

Cillian’s hand suddenly went up to my neck as he brushed over the loose strand of hair that fell on my shoulder, his fingers lingered on my skin as it tingled and sent shivers down my spine.

“C-Cillian?” I gasped as his hand brushed against my neck, my skin tingling at his touch. His fingers lingered on my bare skin, igniting a strange sensation that sent shivers down my spine. I suddenly felt very conscious of our proximity, his body so close to mine on the sofa.

“Have you ever touched your pussy, sweetheart?” At that moment, my heart dropped at the sudden vulgarity that he had. It was such a crude word, crass, anything to describe how bad it sounded coming out of his mouth. I was speechless and I couldn’t even focus on what to say since Cillian's hand still lingered on my neck as he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a low, gravelly whisper. “You like that, darlin’?” he murmured, his breath hot against my ear. “Feel that... shiver running down your spine? Your skin’s already got goosebumps, yeah? I can see them. All over your neck, your arms…even your chest”

It was a feeling I had never felt before in my life. Something coiling deep in my gut as I felt myself clenching my thighs due to my... Private parts... Pulsating, at his words, his voice, everything about him.

Cillian looked down as he scoffed, noticing how my thighs kept clenching, his hands lowered down to my thighs as he tried keeping them apart. I did nothing to stop him.

Deep down, I knew how wrong it was for my best friend’s father to be touching me like this. But I couldn’t help it, I felt scared and maybe... Maybe I liked it. But I was scared of what he was going to do if I imposed, we were already in too deep and I felt like there’s nothing I can do.

However, there is. I could’ve stopped it... I just didn’t want to.

“Answer my question and be a good girl. Have you ever touched your pretty little pussy, darling?” I whimpered silently as his fingers began to roam closer to my inner thighs. I clamped his hand after feeling an unfamiliar gush of wetness flowing out of my core, “Keep your fucking legs open, alright?”

Cillian growled and I immediately spread my legs wider than before, “That’s a good girl” His voice turned soft once again. “Now, what did I ask you?”

“I’ve never touched myself... Down there, before...” I closed my eyes, breathing heavily as I felt like the feeling in my core was starting to become more and more painful.

Cillian hummed deeply, his fingers growing dangerously closer and closer to my pussy, and the next thing I knew, his hands completely touched my pussy over my shorts. Instinctively, I grabbed his wrist to stop him.

“What if Maeve finds out?”

“She sleeps like a log, the world could be ending and she won’t even wake up” Cillian muttered, pulling my hand off of his wrist, “I won’t tell if you won’t... I know how much of a good girl you are and you promise me you would keep those pretty little mouths shut?”

I simply nodded. I don’t know what possessed me to be so obedient to whatever was happening. Normally, I would have run away catching the next flight home, and never returned. However, Cillian was making me desperate, desperate to know what was going to happen next.

“I’m going to take off these cute shorts, alright?” I nodded once again, listening to everything he said as if I was under a spell. He took off my shorts as he pushed my legs apart. He was greeted with a sight, so wet, my underwear was soaked and I didn’t even realize it, “Pretty little thing...”

His index finger softly tapped the pulsating tiny bump, as I jolted in his grasp. I whimpered, raising my hips, asking for more.

“Such a fucking desperate slut” He groaned as he continued to rub circles on my clit, at this point I was writhing underneath him, my underwear getting wetter and wetter by the second. I would usually be offended if someone had called me such a degrading name but coming from him, it only made me want more, “Lean on me”

Cillian had instructed me to lean on his chest, my back close to him as he had his arms around me.

“I’m gonna teach you something, baby” I blushed at the new pet name he came up with, “I’m gonna teach you to touch yourself and I want to see you do it”

“O-Okay...” Cillian took my right hand and placed it on my sopping cunt, he pointed out my index finger as he slowly starts to rub circles on my clit. I whimpered almost too loudly as my left hand immediately covered my mouth. “C-Cillian! It feels nice!”

“I know, pet... Just keep doing it yeah, you’re gonna feel better once you cum” He encouraged, his eyes never leaving my writhing figure above him. I could feel something hard poking at the low of my back, it was hot and throbbing. “Fuck, so fucking pretty. The prettiest I have ever seen”

I was too focused on touching myself, drowning myself in the sensation to notice Cillian had my underwear in his left hand, burying his nose in the center as he took in the sweet and musky scent, his tongue darting out to taste the juice that previously leaked out to the material.

“Put a finger in and ram it inside, the faster you do it the better it feels” Cillian demanded, as if he was getting impatient, he took my finger once again directed it to my entrance, and shoved it in.

I was no longer whimpering, I was now moaning so loud I didn’t even care anymore. Cillian didn’t give me time to adjust, he just completely rammed it in and out at a fast pace that I couldn’t even catch up, he was doing it all on his own but with my own fingers.

“C-Cillian! I feel funny, please! Please, stop! I feel like I’m going to pee!” Cillian scoffed at the statement, he knew I was close to cumming but I didn’t know that. Instead, he taunted me, going even faster if it was even possible. He then placed his left hand on my lower tummy and pressed down hard. “No! No! No! Stop!”

“Cum. Fucking cum right now!” As if on queue, I cummed all over his hands, liquid gushing out of my hole rapidly as I cried out, the feeling of my first orgasm overwhelming me. Something I have never felt before. My whole body shook and twitched violently above him as I cried out, feeling tears of pleasure well up in my eyes. “That’s a good fucking girl, such a good girl for me...”

On my lower behind I felt a wet spot, indicating Cillian had also come undone in his pants. Cillian was as shocked as you because no woman could make him cum without touching him.

“You’re going to be the death of me” Cillian cursed as his fingers dipped into your entrance and I jolted in shock and overstimulation. His fingers went up to his mouth as he sucked all of the juices seeping out of my throbbing cunt, “Fucking delicious”

“C-Cillian... I can’t walk...” He laughed deeply, as he swiftly carried me and stood up from the couch.

“I’ll get my princess nice and clean, yeah?”

As he walked up towards my guest bedroom, carrying me without a problem, I could feel my thighs shaking as an aftermath.

“Cillian, are you gonna do those things to me again?” I stared at him with watery eyes, all fucked out from before, hopefully asking him.

“I’m gonna do more than that, sweetheart” Cillian paused as he opened the bedroom door, he placed me on top of the bed as hovered over my body, “I’m gonna fucking ruin you”

#cillian fanfic #cillian fluff #cillian murphy #cillian smut #cillian x fem!reader #cillian x reader #cillian x y/n #cillian fic #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy fic #cillian murphy x reader #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby #thomas shelby smut

585 notes · View notes

auggieblogs · 1 year ago

Text

Secret Santa | f1 grid Instagram au

f1 grid x driver! reader

* ੈ✩‧₊˚ doing their first secret santa segment with the grid

Author's note: Hello, loves. Hope you all are doing good. Now that the Secret Santa video is out I can finally upload this fic. This didn't turn out the way I wanted it to, I was expecting it to be better but that's okay. I'm going to serve with my next fic, promise. Happy reading, everyone:))

―୨୧⋆ ˚masterlist

The winter air was filled with festive cheer as the Formula 1 paddock prepared for its annual Secret Santa exchange. As a rookie, it was your first time participating in this heartwarming tradition and you were excited, to say the least. The camera crew followed you, capturing every moment leading up to the big reveal of your Christmas gift.

The media team had already hinted that your gift was something extraordinary, a collective effort from the entire grid. The box was larger than expected, and you could feel the curiosity building up.

Lifting the lid, you were met with an array of dog toys, dog clothes, and even some dog food. A chuckle escaped your lips as you examined the peculiar assortment. "Interesting," you remarked, holding up a tiny doggie shirt to the camera. "I doubt that's going to fit me, but I really appreciate the thought, everyone."

Laughter echoed around you, and you took the lighthearted gift in stride, knowing the Secret Santa segment was known for its humorous nature.

Behind the scenes, someone from the camera crew spoke up, letting you know that this was only half of your present. Perplexed, you turned toward the camera, curiosity etched across your face. Then, from behind you, emerged a crew member carrying a small, fluffy golden retriever puppy in his arms.

Your eyes widened in disbelief, and a hushed "no, no, no" escaped your lips as you connected the dots. The reality sunk in, and you moved back, your hand covering your mouth in sheer disbelief. "Say sike right now," you pleaded, almost unable to comprehend what was in front of you. The response was a firm denial, confirming that the puppy was indeed your Secret Santa gift from the entire grid.

You gingerly accepted the puppy into your arms, cradling it close to your chest. "Oh, you're so small," you cooed, a mixture of laughter and happy tears streaming down your face. The puppy reciprocated with wet kisses, and you couldn't help but snuggle into the warmth of this unexpected gift.

As you revel in the joy of the moment, a voice from behind the camera interrupted, "Do you like your gift?" You nodded vigorously, still cradling the puppy in your arms. "I love him so, so much," you replied, sniffling.

Finally, you noticed a note nestled among the dog toys. With the puppy still in your arms, you delicately unfolded the note, "Happy Christmas, Y/N. You are collectively everyone's favourite on the grid. Hope you like the puppy, he's just like you," the note read and was signed by all the drivers.

Tears continued to stream down your cheeks as you looked into the camera. "Thank you, everyone. I love all of you. This is the best Christmas ever." You lifted the puppy so that he could face the camera too, and the collective "awws" echoed around the paddock.

The person behind the camera couldn't resist asking, "What are you going to name him?" You pondered for a moment before deciding, "He looks like a Lenny, no?"

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

yourusername

liked by f1, landonorris and 287,120 others

yourusername Lenny SnoopDawg Y/L in da house😎

comments:

username lmao he's so silly

username kissies on da face!!!!

username can't believe the drivers gifted a golden retriever, an actual golden retriever smh

landonorris I CALL GODFATHER

charles_leclerc Uh back the fuck up. I am the godfather

landonorris You didn't call it though, snoozers losers😘

logansargeant Sorry to break it to you guys but Y/N said her favourite gets to be the godfather, so it's actually me

oscarpiastri Mate, do you ever get tired of being wrong? I'm obviously her favourite

landonorris sources: trust me bro

carlossainz55 I just feel like someone who's actually experienced with dogs should get to be the godfather

mickschumacher So you mean, me? Awh Carlos, thank you

carlossainz55 No.

landonorris I'm real experienced with dogs

yourusername yes, we all remember Uno

albon_pets not to be bias or anything but @alex_albon is great with pets

charles_leclerc That is in fact very bias

albon_pets we are not talking to you dude😠

maxverstappen1 Can I be the father?

logansargeant PAUSE

georgerussell63 Hold up, HOLD THE FUCK UP

yourusername I-is that a flirtation?????

username what the dog doin

username bet lenny is a better driver than me

f1 You should never let your dog drive a car. Soon they'll get better than you and start competing in formula 1😟

username LMAOOO ADMIN PLEASEEEEE

username happened to my buddy eric once

roscoelovescoco IS THAT WHY I'M NOT ALLOWED TO DRIVE ANYMORE?

oscarpiastri that's my car he's driving btw

username Lenny is the goddest boy☹️

2K notes · View notes

yzzart · 1 year ago

Note

hello, my love! how're you? I hope you're well

could you write one more compilation between tom and y/n? further detailing their relationship with the rest of the cast. I love seeing you include Rachel in your writing, and I'd love to see her recording, commenting and showing more tweets about y/n and tom!!

thank you very much for your generous and sweet attention ❤️☺️

"Definitely an old couple."

pairing: tom blyth x actress!reader.

summary: your fans are obsessed with compilations of you and tom being an old married couple.

word count: 604!

notes: your request is an order, my sweet anon! and in the future i will post a request showing the tweets that Rachel shared with reader 😼!!

"Our beautiful lovebirds." — The camera, which was recording a video, is pointed at you and Tom, who were sitting in your chairs and observing yourself in the mirror that had been placed by the makeup artists. — "I love calling them that." — She commented alone, then, laughing; until Tom put the peacekeeper helmet on your head, all the while laughing about how adorable he looked.

Quickly, he grabbed his cell phone that was on the table in front of him and took a photo; in fact, more than two photos. — Suddenly, the camera goes into frontal mode, showing Rachel's image.

"A cliché couple, i love them."

"About the movie, i'm curious to know, in your opinion, what was the best thing about it?" — The interviewer asked, uncrossing her legs and waiting, attentively, for the answers.

"The best thing?" — A fake thoughtful frown formed on your face. — "I really think it was seeing blond Tom…?" — Tom hit your leg, laughing along with the interviewer; you tried to maintain a serious expression, conveying an air of confidence with your answer, a very complicated mission. — "Oh, and the worst thing was him returning to his natural color." — Your eyes swept over Tom, who continued to laugh, smiling listening to the sound of his laugh.

"That's not possible." — He recovered, running his hand through his coat, fixing it a little, and turning his head to the side, looking at you; his lips were still forming a mischievous smile. — "I remember you saying you're the number one fan of my natural hair." — Tom crossed his arms with a defiant look, and tilted his head.

"And i am, my dear." — Imitating his action, you also crossed your arms, teasing your boyfriend; Tom lightly pushed your arm and placed a hand on your thigh.

"Oh, and Tom and Y/n're, like, Lenny's godparents." — Rachel fixed her headphones, removing some strands that were in her ears, turning her head to the interviewer and Tom. — "Sometimes i feel like he prefers them over me." — She joked, feigning a melancholic frown and forming a small pout.

"It's just that she and i are his favorites now." — Tom replied, earning laughs from the interviewer and Rachel.

"And Y/n is the clear winner!" — Tom announced, clasping his hands together and looking at the camera, watching one of the producers, who worked behind the cameras, prepare to present the small prize. — "Can i dedicate a speech demonstrating my pride or is it too early?" — Rachel laughed, not believing his words and finding it funny, accompanied by Josh, with you making a gesture of reference. — "Please, honey."

"I don't know but i'll listen." — You replied, arranging a high-five with your boyfriend and noticing the presence of the little prize approaching. — "This is for me?" — Tilting your hand, you took the enchanting object and admired it; something that looked like a miniature Oscar, and was really adorable.

"When you're the best, you're the best." — Rachel and Josh spoke together.

"And i think Y/n just arrived!" — The interviewer commented, tilting her head towards a small crowd that was forming at the beginning of the red carpet; and several flashes and some screams were witnessed by everyone at the scene.

"Oh, she's here." — Leaning his hands on the railing and moving away, Tom ran his eyes over the crowd; until, finally, he had the opportunity to see you and, automatically, an exuberant glow remained in his deep blue eyes. — You were so beautiful, always have been, he thought. — "Look at her." — His tone was low, but so admirable and enchanted. — "I need to ask her for an autograph."

#tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus #snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus imagine #the hunger games #the hunger games x reader #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas

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cuteandhughesy · 18 days ago

Text

A Wonderful Christmas Time | William Nylander

summary: you and william living through the christmas eve traditions with your kids - as well as frantically preparing for santa's arrival. (dad!willy)

3.1k

a/n: based off this request! merry christmas eve!! my present to you is another highly requested willy fic 🥰 also there’s 360 of you now, which is insane…I love you all omg <3 I’ll see you guys on new years for a quinny fic

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"honey you can't play with the ornaments." your tone is warning but gentle, gathering the attention of your daughter, lennon.

she giggles, plopping down in her diaper covered butt beside the tree. lennon smiles her two toothed grin, big round eyes looking at you with nothing but joy.

you smile from the couch. "yeah i'm talking to you lenny baby."

the 1 year old laughs again—that adorable baby belly laugh than never fails in making you join in. she's not long out of the bathtub, with damp blonde hair flat against her head and wrapped up in her candy cane onsie. lennon grabs onto her toes through the soft material, rocking forward slightly. "ma." she gurgles, reaching towards you.

that is all it takes for you to get up, making your way towards the christmas tree—decorated in various coloured and homemade ornaments—and pick lennon up under her arms, pulling her against your chest. you kiss your daughters chubby cheek three quick times, igniting another round of baby giggles from her tiny body. "should we see what daddy and lukey are up to? should we go see?"

she snuggles into your neck, smiling at the mention of her dad and older brother. you bring yourself up the stairs, bare feet barley padding on the carpeted flooring. you reach the landing and the familiar sound of your husbands voice, followed by your sons sweet laughter ring in your ears.

rounding into the warm and blueberry soap scented bathroom, your smile widens even further. luke reaches towards william, the water just merely missing the side of the bath tub as he bounces up. he covers your husbands face in scented suds, creating the illusion of a big white beard—very fitting for the day.

"you look like santa daddy." he laughs, small hands continuing to pile more bubbles on top of william's already full beard.

"ho ho ho." your husbands mimics father christmas's deep rumbling slogan, leaning further over the the edge of the grand bath tub to nuzzle your sons neck, transferring the bubbly mess to luke.

you watch with an amused expression as luke's laughter increases, squirming away from the bubbles and the scratchy feeling of william's beard. then his bright blue eyes find you standing against the door frame, and instantly he's distracted. "mummy!"

william looks over his shoulder, and the sight of you and lennon has him grinning wildly. "hey you two."

"hello my boys," you hum, walking further into the vintaged decorated bathroom. "how's bath time coming along? you getting clean lukey baby?"

"i'm not a baby mummy." your 4 year old is ever the sassy one, crossing his slippery arms over his tiny chest. "i'm a grown up." although his attitude drives you up the wall slightly, his little lisp and side eye makes it a little more on the cute side.

you snicker. "oh are you now?"

"yeah. i'm the grown up and lennon is the baby." luke points a finger in your daughters direction, and with that momentary attention on her, lennon squeals happily, fisting your pyjama top in her chubby hand.

william quirks a brow in luke's direction. "santa doesn't come to grown ups lukey."

he gasps loudly, eyes widening to a comical state at his dads words. "okay, Im a baby!"

it seems that lennon has realized her dad is crouched by the tub in front of her older brother, and she instantly starts whining, her chunky little arms stretched out as she asks for william.

"mummy, when's santa coming?" luke questions.

you put lennon down between your bare feet, sitting her on her bum. she doesn't stay, immediately crawling towards your husband while babbling his name happily.

"not until you're sleeping, bub."

he pouts, "but what if I want to see him?"

"that's not how it works buddy." william sighs gently, scooping lennon into his arms. "his magic will go away if you see him."

luke gasps, eyes wide with panic and unshed emotion. "I don't want his magic to go away daddy!"

you coo, joining your husband and daughter infront of the tub, getting down to your knees. you mimic your sons pout, reaching out to run a hand over luke's wet, curly hair. "it's okay bub."

he leans into your touch, blinking up at you with his wet eyelashes. luke's always looked identical to his father, meaning it's always been hard for you to be mad it him—but you're working on it. "we just gotta make sure we get into bed soon! so santa can come and bring you and lenny some presents."

that seems to do the trick, and a smile pulls at his tiny rosebud lips. "okay mumma."

you help luke get out of the bath and wrap him in his favourite blue dinosaur towel, holding him in your arms as you help dry him off, as well as keep him warm. taking baths in the nylander house was never such an event, but as soon as luke turned 4, he decided that you and lennon could no longer share bath time with him.

you really weren't going to argue with him about something so insignificant—so separate bath times it's been.

"you've such a good boy this year, lukey." you mumble into your sons chubby cheek, pressing two kisses against the flushed skin. "I love you."

"I love you too mummy, but we have to put the cookies out now." his serious deadpan stare up at you has you giggling, and you nod quickly.

you get luke dressed in his matching candy cane pyjamas before taking him downstairs—joining william and your sleepy daughter who'd previously slipped back to the fire lit family room.

"baby do think santa wants chocolate chip or oatmeal? what should we leave out?" you eye luke from across the kitchen island, an empty santa plate between you.

"I think santa wants chocolate chip." william says enthusiastically, holding lennon in his strong arms. she's practically asleep now, blinking dangerously slow against his chest.

you send your husband a warning look, to which he sends you a quick wink.

you look back at luke, who is leaning on the counter top with a thoughtful finger to his chin—something you often do that's he's adorably picked up on. "mhmmm..can we ask uncle alex?"

"why do you want to ask uncle alex?" you question with amusement, brows pulled together tightly.

"because he's smart." luke says matter of factly, looking at you with a curious expression.

william snickers. "that's going to inflate his ego."

you shake your head, a gentle smile pulling at your lips—you already know your brother-in-law will absolutely eat up his nephew's statement.

"lukey, uncle alex is sleeping right now. but I think you're smart too and you should pick the cookies."

"okay," luke chirps, "chocolate mummy!”

william leans down and presses a firm kiss against his sons damp hair, clearly feeling at peace with luke's cookie choice. "good pick baby."

you help luke put two cookies on the plate, reminding him multiple times to not eat the cookies himself, especially before bed, which proves to be a bit of a broken record—but you get there eventually. luke takes the plate and glass of almond milk over to the coffee table, barley keeping the milk from spilling over the rim as he roughly places them down.

right before finally getting luke to head in the direction of the stairs, he turns back towards you and william with wide eyes. "daddy! we have to put out the reindeer food!"

aryne tavares had seen the cutest DIY reindeer food craft on pinterest a few days ago, and the two of you got a bunch of the leafs kiddos together to make some before santa and the reindeers arrival. luke's been so excited for days about the damn glitter oatmeal concoction, and you're surprised he's only just remembering it.

you look towards your husband. "yeah daddy, you gotta put the reindeer food out."

after william bares the freezing cold christmas eve temperature and sprinkles the magic food mixture on your front step, you finally get luke into bed. your read him a holiday book while william gets the rest of the unwrapped christmas gifts from your linen closet, bringing them to the living room for your last minute wrapping session.

as you finish the last line of the book, you watch luke's eyes flicker closed, some much needed sleep taking over as he goes limp against the lightning mcqueen pillow.

you slip out of the dark room and tiptoe down the stairs, joining william and the rather large pile of gifts by the couch. you exhale loudly, hands on your hips as you asses everything. "you're on tape duty."

he groans. "I hate tape duty."

your pout is exaggerated, walking towards him and wrapping your arms around his sweater covered waist. "awh baby, you'll be okay."

30 minutes later and what feels like a hundred presents later, william groans for the 10th time, falling backwards against the shaggy rug beneath you. "ugh my back is killing me." he peeks over at you. "how do you do this every year?"

you slide the scissors down the holly printed wrapping paper. "i'm very flexible."

a boyish grin tugs at his lips. "yeah you are."

you look away from the present and over towards your dramatic husband. despite your cheeks burning red at his insinuation, your give him a deadpanned stare. "willy."

"I think we should take a break." he hums.

you sigh gently, folding the paper over a box full of ella nylander's favourite sephora pieces. "honestly as much as I'd love a break, it's quite literally christmas eve, babe. these presents gotta be wrapped."

he pushes up to his elbows, looking at you pointedly. "my family doesn't need their gifts wrapped."

you laugh. "yes, they do."

"fine—but if I strain my back and can't play...i'm giving staff your number." he teases you, sitting back into a proper position, fingers fiddling with some bows spewn across the rug.

"yeah yeah, pass me the damn ribbon."

thankfully you're only wrapping gifts for another 20 minutes, wrapping a beautiful velvet ribbon over every single one. you're sure your limbs will punish you for the extra ribbon work tomorrow morning, but the perfectionist in you doesn't care about that with how aesthetically pleasing the gifts look.

you make william drag out the bags full of presents for luke and lennon, passing them to you while you put them next to the christmas tree, ready for the morning.

you've definitely spoiled your two kids for another christmas now, but you and william can't help it—this time of year is so special and magical, and your kids are so well behaved that it's hard not to get them lots of things to celebrate another year.

hours after you would've liked to go to sleep, you're finally walking up the stairs, william hot on your trail, when you suddenly stop, a low groan rumbling through your chest. "the cookies."

his head hits your butt in exhaustion and defeat. "fuck me."

—

"santa came!" the shrill squeal of luke is the first thing you can register, tired eyes blinking open in the dim room.

beside you, willy groans, rolling onto your side of the bed under the warm covers.

luke pushes open your bedroom door, bare feet smacking against the hardwood as he runs towards your bed. "mummy! daddy! santa came." he slaps his hands on the side of the bed, a command that he wants up.

usually you'd work on his method of asking, but not today, his haste much understood. you gasp loudly, sitting up so you're able to lift him onto your and william's shared bed. "what? are you sure?"

he giggles, crawling into your lap. "yes!" subconsciously he starts playing with the buttons on your pyjama top, something he used to do when he was a baby.

"oh my goodness." you grin, gently tickling his sides. "well should we get up and head downstairs?"

he squeals again, and the sound is like gold—instantly walking you up. "yes mummy!"

beside you, william sighs sleepily, pushing up on the mattress into a sitting position. his smile is lazy, hand pushing back luke's crazy hair.

"daddy, it's christmas!" you're quickly forgotten about, luke sneaking over to william's lap and cuddling into his shirtless chest.

"I know buddy." he smiles, kissing his head.

"let's get your sister first, lukey. and then we will go downstairs." you chime gently, already pulling the covers back to slip out of bed. luke follows suit, sliding belly first off the tall mattress.

lennon is already awake when you open her door, holding onto the crib railing as she bounces on the mattress. she makes an adorable cooing noise as you greet her, gummy smile making an appearance as you get closer.

as soon as you all make it downstairs, chaos ensues. it's a mess of ribbon, bows and teared wrapping paper as luke quickly opens all his presents. although the mess is a bit overwhelming, it's overshadowed by the joy of watching your sons face full of excitement.

at every present, luke will stop and bound over to your husband, gift clutched in his hand. "daddy can you open this one?" or "look at this one daddy!"

and everytime william shows the most enthusiasm, making that christmas magic linger as long as humanly possible.

"look daddy I have a hockey stick just like you!" luke jumps up and down in one spot, practically vibrating with excitement as he holds up his brand new hockey stick from santa.

he'd been begging for a 'big boy stick' for almost a year, and william thought this christmas would be the perfect opportunity to wrap up his sons newest obsession.

you hold lennon on your knees, letting her play with the velvety green ribbon from her gift. like usual, you watch luke waltz up to william, displaying his new hockey stick like his life depended on it.

"wow!" william beams, "you're very lucky lukey."

your son nods with enthusiasm, eyes still tranced on the stick. "now I can come play with you and uncle mitchy."

"that's right baby."

you make them pose for a photo after that. william tucks luke into his side, a smile on both of your babies faces as luke holds the stick out. you make sure to send it to steph marner, followed by how excited he is to play with mitch. it's all so cute, and you're so in love with your little family.

luke plays with his toys while you and william make breakfast, lennon gurgling happily in her high chair, sucking on a strawberry while she waits for her food.

eventually you get him to stop playing and come get his serving of eggs, bacon and toast—although he does bring the hockey stick to the table, but you didn't expect anything else.

it's when william is tidying up the dishes and you're just getting lennon out of the high chair, william's family arrives, walking through the front door in a flurry of snow and presents, smiles on their faces.

"merry christmas!"

luke's tiny gasp is almost humorous, and he drops the hockey stick and runs towards his grandparents, tiny feet smacking against the floor. "papa! nana!"

"oh my goodness!" camila greets warmly, dropping her bag to embrace her grandson. "hello my baby." william's mom kisses luke's face multiple times, which sends the toddler into a fit of giggles.

"and here's the other little baby." michael smiles gently, reaching towards your daughter, running his index finger along her soft cheek. "hello lenny bear! merry christmas sweet girl." she smiles, shying away from her grandfathers tickle.

his parents greet you both briefly, but their too wrapped up in the magic of christmas with their first set of grand babies that you're not even mad about the hasty greeting.

"lukey!" ella looks down at her nephew, arms open expectantly. "do I get a hug?"

"yes auntie ella!" he runs into her arms, squeezing william's sister as tight as he can manage.

she pulls back, looking down at luke with sparkling eyes. "did you open your presents from santa?"

"yes," luke beams, blinking up at his aunt warmly. "and he got me a hockey stick!"

"what?! you're so lucky." ella relates the words he's heard a million times today, running her palm flat over his unruly head of hair. "I bet uncle alex will want to see it!"

at the mention of his favourite person in the world (besides his father of course), luke gasps so hard you think his little lungs might explode. he catches sight of alex in the kitchen, chatting with you while he plays with lennon's tiny toes affectionately.

"uncle alex" luke giggles, running over to his uncle.

at the sound of his name, the second eldest nylander sibling looks over just in time for luke to run at his legs. alex smiles, grabbing your son under the arms and swinging him to his chest. "hey dude."

luke immediately lays his head on his shoulder, rubbing his cheek on the soft fabric of alex's hoodie. it's a rather sweet sight, and you're instantly feeling emotional about it.

you clear your throat, adjusting lennon on your hip. "lukey, wanna tell uncle alex what you said last night?"

your son nods gently. "you are smart."

alex gasps happily, pulling down luke's pyjama shirt from where it's ridden up against his sweater.

"he wanted to call you and ask what cookies santa would like because you're smart." you continue, adding a bit more context to the story.

alex nods triumphantly, "you're right lukey I am smart." he kisses your sons cheek once, a loud smacking noise that has lukey laughing, trying to squirm away from the tickle of alex's beard—something he's used to with william.

you'll never get tired of the holiday season, and seeing your family so content and happy with one another just adds to the festive atmosphere and pure joy of christmas.

you feel your husbands arms wrap around your waist from behind, william gently kissing the side of your face as he greets you. "merry christmas, babe."

lennon gurgles happily as she catches sight of william, reaching over you to touch his face, fingers raking through his grown-out facial hair and running over his lips. william nips her tiny hands gently, making her squeal with laughter.

you smile warmly, watching with loving eyes. "merry christmas willy."

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