#so your telling me they don’t have a plan for when a team mate is behind the other | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jamminvroomvroom · 11 months ago

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die for you.

ln x driver!reader

in which you can’t stand each other, or so you say…

this took waaaay too long for me to hate it sm but she’s here! and she’s long! love this concept so much, thank you for this request. so many feels so many vibes, tell me what you think <3

loosely inspired by die for you by the weeknd

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, language, slight glimpses of she fell first, he fell harder, rivals to lovers/enemies to lovers, choking, hate sex? bar fight, mentions of blood

8.3k words (oop)

it’s rare that you miss a podium, so when you do, it tastes bitter and stings like a bitch.

the car has been on fire all season long, a thing of beauty in your calculated hands. so, the string of bad luck you’re enduring, small mistakes with big consequences, it’s quite the pill to swallow.

out of the car you jump, teeth grinding hard out of frustration. you could see the commotion ahead of you, members of the papaya team celebrating their driver. your eyes roll so hard in your head that you feel a lasting ache. you side step members of your team, dodging every single person that tries to talk to you, your comms officer knowing better than to try and engage with you. you know you’re being unreasonable, it was a p5 finish! but it isn’t a podium or a win, so quite frankly, you aren’t interested, and you certainly don’t have any energy left to hear how amazingly well he had driven.

lando fucking norris.

what was once quiet disdain had grown into fully fledged hatred and you fear you’ll be violently sick if you catch a single glimpse of him on the podium. sure, he’s talented, and sure, he’s beautiful, you suppose. that doesn’t mean you have to like him. not anymore. he lives under your skin, inescapable.

you struggle through every interview in the media pen, most of which dissect your recent fall from grace, your mouth forming a hard, unimpressed line every time they mention the orange goblin and his recent streak of podiums and good luck. you wish the journos would bring up his string of women and the probable plan b receipts that went with them. that, you would love to talk about.

you drive in silence back to your hotel, leaving the track as soon as possible, and quickly find solace in your bed for the night. the idea of seeing the inside of a club makes you nauseous after your epic downfall. as your eyes are drooping, your body going limp under the thick duvet, a knock sounds from the door.

“no.” you shout flatly, but the only response you get are giggles from the hallway. for fuck sake, you mutter, groaning as you shift out from beneath the covers and trail apprehensively towards the door.

george and alex appear before you, and you throw your head back is exasperation.

“mate, it’s 9:30.” alex laughs, taking in your fancy attire; pyjamas that you’ve had since you were 17.

“what’s your point?” you croak, glaring up at your obnoxiously tall friend.

“why aren’t you getting ready to go out?” george questions, leaning against the doorframe. he, too, was obnoxiously tall, you thought, feeling the strain in your neck as you move your glare onto him.

“if it wasn’t obvious, i’m not going.” you deadpan, crossing your arms over your chest. “i thought that was clear after i ignored all 77 of your texts.” you smile sarcastically, rubbing sleep from your eyes.

“don’t be boring! you’re an f1 driver, you’re in a cool city, you’re rich and, let’s face it,” he sasses. “you need to get laid.” alex says, like it’s the most causal thing in the world. your eyes bulge out of your head at the utterance of the last bit. george bites back laughter.

“choosing to ignore that.” you hiss. “i’m sorry but i refuse to go out and celebrate that arrogant, whiny little bitch.”

they both know exactly who you’re talking about.

you and lando have simply never seen eye to eye. your karting days were spent pushing one another off the track or into a muddy puddle if things got a bit heated out of the car. sure, olive branches were extended, and maybe adolescent feelings were secretly harboured, but he never gave you any reason to tell him that. you’d grown out of the childish violence when you graduated into formula 1, but you hadn’t been able to shake the rage he made you feel.

it didn’t matter how many dinners you attended where others had conspired and forced you to sit next to each other. it didn’t matter how many times you turned up to play padel and were met with the same lame excuses of ‘oh, did we not mention lando would be here?’ it didn’t matter how many times you’d hugged it out on the podium while adrenaline and tensions were running high.

it didn’t matter how many times he’d watched you from across a crowded room and you’d found his eyes, watched him back. it didn’t matter how many times he’d smirked at you at the start of a race weekend, made you blush. and it certainly didn’t matter what happened last time you found yourself in a club with him.

you just don’t like him. not anymore. you sleep better at night when you lie to yourself.

~ the last time

you sink shot after shot, cocktail after cocktail; the taste of fruity liquor stains your lips and burns your throat. you feel electric, sizzling with ecstasy and the heat from the flashing lights above your head.

it’s approaching 4am and you can’t recall a time in your life where you’d felt so fucking good. the high of your first win is indescribable.

you’ve lost track of the guys, alex and george have packed it in and gone back to their hotels with their girlfriends. pierre and kika are somewhere in a corner, you’re certain. you’re pretty sure you’ve even seen lewis with his entourage and a brick wall of a bodyguard trailing behind him. and at the bar, a set of eyes watch you.

lando isn’t even listening to oscar anymore, no. he is too entranced in the way your hips move to the beat, lost in the carefree lines your body makes in the crowd. he’s itching to go to you, put his hands in places that would stay between you, him, and god, but he doesn’t think a broken nose would be good for business.

everything changes when you spin around, facing his direction. then, it begins: the same thing that happens every time you end up going out in the same group. you watch one another, pretending you’re not both achingly desperate to find out how the other tastes.

but lando is feeling bold. he tells oscar he’ll see him in the morning, and then, egged on by a moscow mule and a few too many shots, he makes his way towards you. it is instinctual, magnetic, the way he is drawn to you.

hands on your hips, lips on your neck. the song changes. you recognise the weeknd’s voice. you are disappointed in yourself but it feels too good to stop.

you know what i’m thinkin', see it in your eyes you hate that you want me, hate it when you cry you’re scared to be lonely, 'specially in the night i’m scared that i’ll miss you, happens every time

the lyrics sober you up. you’re in the first taxi you can see when you finally get outside.

alone.

as much as that memory makes you shiver, for several different reasons, you find yourself putting on some makeup and raking through your suitcase for something to wear. george and alex are waiting downstairs for you at the bar, and when you finally make your way down there, they have a martini waiting for you. they watch in impressed horror as the alcohol disappears from the glass mere seconds after it touches your lips.

“let’s get this over with.” you sigh.

it could have been worse, you suppose.

the club is packed, hundreds of faces blurring into nothing. you feel better knowing that there is a one in a million chance of running into lando.

you’re tucked into a booth with alex and george, carmen and lily, a few faces you can’t quite place, and charles and pierre. you’d conspired to sit on the outside, prepared to make a quick getaway at the first sign of tension.

you’d been in a state of fight or flight since your last run in, nails bitten down every time you thought about his hands on you, how good they felt on you. it scared you more than anything had in a long time, how your desire had festered.

you go to take a swig from your glass, only to find it empty, aside from a few sad ice cubes. you watch jealously as they melt into nothing, wishing they would take you with them, shoving your glass across the smooth table top when your frustration boils over.

you’re on edge, ridiculously afraid of bumping into a curly haired man. it wasn’t him you were scared of, per-say, more yourself. god knows what you’d do if you felt those warm, calloused hands pulling your hips into his again.

“you okay?” pierre calls across the table. he and charles abandon their conversation as soon as your glass goes flying towards their side of the table. you’re broken out of your trance, caught off guard like a deer in headlights.

“tired.” you reply, shrugging it off like it was nothing. it’s clear immediately that they don’t buy it.

“she’s hiding.” alex chimes in from beside you, and your elbow goes straight into his ribs. he feigns pain for a moment, cackling at your reaction.

“from who?” charles inquires. you roll your eyes, blush spreading down your neck already. you hate everything about the conversation, and yet you need to see where it goes. you’d planned your escape, and now was the opportune time to make it, but you seem to be glued to the leather of the booth.

“lando.” george smirks into his drink as a he speaks, wiggles his eyebrows.

“oh yeah, we know all about that.” pierre laughs, his head tipping back in amusement.

“what?” you spit, eyes wide with confusion.

“don’t think me and kika didn’t see you two before the summer break. that night you won? we thought you’d finally cave.” pierre explains, his grin conveying pure evil.

several “what?!”’s sound from around the table, and now all eyes are on you.

“nothing even happened.” you mumble. “he came over to me and then i left.” you look away, twisting your hair around your finger. you are sweating.

“you looked like you were minutes away from being arrested for public indecency.” pierre smirks. you almost launch yourself across the table, intent on strangling him, and then perhaps throwing yourself in front of an oncoming uber outside.

“well, well, well. i fucking knew it.” alex is giggling beside you.

“come on guys, leave the poor girl alone.” lily winks at you, but even she has a twinkle in her eye. “there’s obviously feelings there.” and just like that she betrays you. her sympathetic smile doesn’t make you forgive her.

“i think you guys just need to get it out of your system,” charles starts, pausing to take a sip of his drink. “just fuck.” he waves his hand, like it was the most causal thing in the world.

the table erupts in laughter and you decide that you are well past the end of your tether. you shake your head, declaring that you need another drink, or ten, and strut away from the table. a chorus of ‘love you’-s and ‘get some’-s sound from behind you. you reply simply by raising your middle finger and refusing to look back.

the bar is in sight, just about in your reach when your evening goes from mildly bad to aggressively worse.

“fuck sake.” you sigh.

“and good evening to you too.” lando replies. he’s blocking your path, materialising before you out of nowhere.

“get out of my way, lan.” it sounds like you’re pleading and you cringe internally.

“don’t you wanna congratulate me?” he feigns a pout and you almost swing for him.

“no, not particularly.” you say dryly. “all i want is a drink, so if you’d just…” you gesture for him to move. of course, he doesn’t.

“haven’t seen you in a while, though. thought maybe you’d missed me.” he takes a step closer; goosebumps litter your bare skin.

“you are such an entitled prick.” you spit, moving to step around him but he catches you, gripping your wrists and pulling you in. you feel heat radiating off of him, expensive cologne overwhelming you in the best possible way.

“and you, honey, are such a fucking brat. but you don’t hear me complaining, do you?” lando whispers, cool breath hitting your face, minty, laced with champagne and cockiness. you almost fold, thighs clenching so tight that he must have noticed.

“move.” you grumble through gritted teeth. you are crumbling painfully, embarrassingly fast.

“make me.” your underwear is damp, but you are fuming.

“don’t fucking test me, lando.” something in your chest sets on fire and you’re over him and his bullshit, and the way he makes you feel.

“i know you want me.” he dips his forehead down to rest gently against yours. his grip on your wrists tightens, thumbs swirling circles into the flesh, right where your pulse is.

you lean in, mere centimetres separating your lips. his eyes darken, the assumption of victory over you tugs his lips into a smirk.

“all i want is my fucking drink. come find me when you’ve managed to navigate your gigantic, stupid head out of your arse.” you catch him off guard, wriggling out of his grip. you’re shaking when you walk away, thoughts of doing things with him that would get you both fired invading your foggy brain.

you try to disappear into the crowd, finally breathe a sigh of relief when your hands meet the cool surface of the bar. you order your drink, putting it on your tab and drum your nails against the marble top. you’re lost in your own world, watching as concoctions are mixed, as shots are downed. you finally feel at ease, until your evening takes yet another turn, one that was somehow even more unfortunate than all the others.

your attention is rudely stolen by the guy stood next to you.

“can i get that for you?” the random man speaks, in a way that he must of assumed was smooth. slimy, you think. he’s gesturing to your drink, clearly having watched you add it to your bill already.

“no, thank you. it’s already paid for.” you smile politely, turning on your heel. it seems he wasn’t quite done with you. you feel a clammy hand tug on yours, a wave of sickness washes over you.

lando’s hands are bigger, warmer, softer.

“where are you rushing off to, babe?” the sweaty man asks, his tone fake in a way that makes you uneasy.

“i need to get back to my friends.” you try to pull your hand free, but he won’t budge. “can you let go-“

“i can show you a good time. always thought you were kinda hot.” you’re panicking now, looking every which way for a familiar face, a security guard, anyone.

“take your hands off of me.” you snap, still wrestling to pull yourself free.

“one night with me would pull you out of that little slump you’re in.” he leers. you visibly gag, white hot rage blurs your vision.

“okay you piece of shi-“ you snarl, interrupted by a flash of curls and tanned skin.

“she told you to let go.” lando stands in front of you protectively, rigid and furious. you’ve never been so happy to see his annoying(ly beautiful) face.

“and what are you gonna do?”

“hands. off.” lando stands up even straighter, looking bigger than you’ve ever seen him.

“okay, mate, whatever.” the stranger rolls his eyes, shoves your hand away.

lando turns to you, opening his mouth to speak when…

“keep that stuck up bitch all to yourself.”

and then, everything goes to shit.

lando whips around, fists are flying, the stranger topples to the ground, amassed to nothing in the face of the mclaren drivers rage. lando doesn’t stop there, makes sure he is sufficiently dealt with, flat on his back on the sticky floor. you don’t know what to do, calling out for lando, begging him to stop, as satisfied as you are. lando hears your shouts, pulled out of the chaos and back to you. always back to you.

“are you okay?” he has his hands on your face searching for any remaining fear or upset. a crowd has formed and you see alex and george towering above the other club goers, jaws agape.

it’s as if he dj has it out for you, and you realise that the song has changed to something moodier, slower, one that gives you whiplash.

even though we're going through it and it makes you feel alone just know that i would die for you baby, i would die for you

“we need to get out of here. security are coming.” you mutter, keening into his touch.

“i have a car outside.”

“well, let’s use it then.”

you can’t help but stroke over his knuckles mindlessly in the car, an unlikely comfortable silence settling between you. they look raw, cracked slightly and you have an overwhelming desire to kiss them better. your head is fuzzy, and you’re unsettled with confusion, but at the same time, you feel lighter.

“why did you do that?” you murmur, disrupting the quiet that has settled over the backseat of the town car, the question burning desperately on your tongue.

lando turns his head so that he’s looking down at you, his good hand comes up to cup your jaw softly.

“no one can talk to you like that.” he’s staring so deeply into your eyes and you almost squirm at the intensity. you feel exposed, bare.

“but why did you step in before that?” you reiterate shakily. lando hums in understanding.

“i’ve known you since we were 10 years old. i know when you’re scared.” he whispers, breath dusting your cheeks. you almost lean in, then, something about his words pull you even closer towards him. you feel warmth creeping over your chest, sinking into the pit of your belly.

“we’ve arrived.” the driver calls from the front, signalling that you need to get out of the car. it was like an elastic band had snapped, and you spring away from lando, scrambling to undo your seat belt, the moment of weakness long gone.

you sneak into the lobby, on the lookout for any angry PR teams or incognito photographers that are scoping for their next pay check. the coast seems clear, so you manage to scurry discreetly into the elevator. you hit the button for the third floor.

“can you hit the button for five?” lando asks, leaning against the opposite wall.

“you’re coming to my room.” you state, offering no other explanation, even when he raises his eyebrows.

the ding of the lift has lando pushing himself off of the mirrored wall, trailing behind you into the corridor. the lights are low as he follows you to your door, hands deep in the pockets of his jeans. he watches in anticipation as you rifle through your small bag for your keycard. the green light gives you the go ahead to open the door, and he awkwardly follows you inside, peering around the room.

you notice the slight apprehension in his features, eyes blown wide from alcohol and adrenaline. they seem to sparkle more than you’d seen in a while, a hazel-y blue twisting with secrets and unspoken thoughts.

“let me find my first aid kit.” you tell him. you guide him towards the foot of your bed, gesture for him to sit. “make yourself comfortable.”

“you don’t need to do this.” lando replies, sitting down anyway.

“and you didn’t need to get between me and that dickhead but here we are.”

your words elicit a low chuckle from him, and you’re glad you have your back to him while you dig through your suitcase. he can’t see your smile at the wholesome sound, and he doesn’t need to.

random pieces of clothing fall out of the bag as you rummage through it, your attention taken up completely by your mission to find the small box. you don’t notice the pile of garments littering the floor.

“wow, didn’t take you for that kinda girl.” lando teases. your cheeks flame red when you catch sight of the cherry red thong that has managed to get caught in the wheel of your suitcase.

“shut up, i’m helping you.” you grumble, balling up the lace and burying it at the bottom of the case.

“why is it ferrari coloured? something you wanna tell me? do you think charles is… foxy? or is it fred? oh, i bet it’s fred, isn’t it.” he’s laughing now, loud and boisterous, and if it wasn’t for the butterflies erupting in your belly at the sound, you would have throttled him.

“i’ll leave you to bleed out.” you tease back, pointing at the dried up blood across his knuckles.

“of course, i am in urgent need of medical attention!” he exclaims sarcastically, clutching his hand. you roll your eyes.

“you know where the door is.” you stand from the floor, carrying a little square antiseptic wipe with you.

“yeah, i do. feel like staying now, though. i’m just so comfy.”

and with that, he throws himself back on your bed, closing his eyes as he sinks into the mattress.

you stare at him for a second, noticing the way his eyelashes dust the tops of his cheeks, his tanned, thick neck peeks out from in between the undone buttons of his dress shirt. you exhale shakily, moving to sit beside him on the bed.

“give me your hand.” you instruct him, tearing the packet open and unfolding the wipe.

“romantic.” lando snarks. you shove his shoulder in response. he holds his hand out.

“whatever.” you sigh, avoiding eye contact as you run the wipe over his knuckles. you can see how they are already tinged purple, wincing at the idea that it is your fault.

“what is it?” lando asks, noticing.

you don’t respond. this proximity is odd, you can’t quite tell yet if you like it. what you do know is that you certainly don’t know how to handle him now that the alcohol is wearing off and you’re left tending to the wounds of a man that you could have sworn you didn’t like.

“so that’s how it’s gonna be? we’re going back to the silent treatment again?” lando scoffs.

“don’t know what to say.” you mutter, keeping your eyes trained on every line and indent of his knuckles.

“why do you hate me so much?”

“i don’t.”

“yes, you do.” he scoffs.

“i don’t think about you enough to hate you.” you lie. it’s cruel. he winces.

that shuts him up.

“i’m gonna go. thanks for this.” lando waves his hand and you feel a wave of guilt hit.

“no, fuck, i’m sorry.” you apologise, bowing your head. “stay.”

“i’ll stay if you tell me why you hate me.”

“i’ve never hated you, lan. haven’t always particularly liked you but i never, ever hated you.”

“okay.”

that’s all it takes for him to flop back onto the bed. some unexplainable instinct that you loathe has you crawling onto the bed beside him. you wrap your arms around your pillow, watching him watch you.

“i used to have such a big crush on you, you know.” lando says. you stare at him blankly.

“what?”

“yep. i think i was about 15. you were the first girl i ever really liked that way.” he smiles, recalling the memory. “it kinda sucked because i knew you wouldn’t even look at me twice but it’s funny thinking back to that time.”

~ 15

he watches the way her hair gets caught in the breeze as she takes off her helmet. two messy braids are shaken free, and his heart skips a beat or two, or seven, when she turns around with the biggest grin on her face.

she’s just won a race, another one, and he’d be so jealous if it wasn’t her.

he thinks she’s the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. george and alex go over to her, congratulating her, hugging her. he wishes he could do that. he definitely can’t.

she doesn’t see him, the only times that she does are when they argue, when they push eachother off the track and scream at one another across a gravel trap. the times when she plants her pointed finger in his chest and calls him dirty, the times he gets heated and calls her something he doesn’t mean under his breath. and she always hears him. always. he watches her eyes pool with tears every single time.

he wants her, in a way he’s never wanted anyone before. he’s never felt like this, wonders how he can make it go away. she hates him. she must.

he can never have her, so why even try?

“i had no idea you ever felt that way.” you’re quite shocked, really. you knew that you had this intensely charged sexual tension between you now, but you had failed to realise how far back this all went.

mutually, at least.

“i’d say i’ve done a pretty good job of hiding it.” his smile changes slightly. it was now a sad smile, one that conveys disappointment in himself, and that you hated to see. it reminds you of the one you’ve gotten used to seeing on your social media feed after he’d had a shitty race.

you sigh, bracing yourself for what you are about to say.

“you’re not the only one who hid it.” you raise an eyebrow, your face says ‘guilty!’

“no?” lando’s eyes widen at your revelation.

“i think we were 13. you gave me half a cookie to apologise for pushing me off track.” you smile coyly. “it’s kinda sad but 13 year old me died inside.” you laugh.

“so, we’ve both… liked each other.” lando assesses. you nod.

“when did you stop?” you inquire, scanning his face. you take in each detail, each individual freckle, the curve of his lips. he seems closer, all of the sudden, and that’s when you realise you’ve closed the space between you. lando is within reach now, it would have been so, so incredibly easy to shift even closer still; it was like you were in his gravitational field, reeled in by pretty, pretty eyes.

“who said i stopped?”

“oh.” you breathe.

~ 13

he snaps the crumbly biscuit between his fingers, trails towards her awkwardly. he feels bad, feels a strange pang in his chest that he doesn’t recognise.

he finds her around the back of her parents car, arms crossed, eyebrows scrunched, pouting hard. he thinks she’s cute.

“why are you here?” she whines.

“this is for you. i know it doesn’t make up for the race. i didn’t mean to take you out, i swear.”

he sounds panicked, sincere. her tummy turns funny.

he’s holding out a cookie, the children’s equivalent of an olive branch.

her face softens. she accepts it. they bite into their cookies at the same time.

it’s not the worst day in the world anymore.

messy kisses and soft whispers lull you to sleep.

his nose bumps yours every time your lips meet, gentle and plush.

you feel delicate in his arms, treasured. his lips press gently to your hairline. he’s different, softer than you’ve seen him since you were teenagers splitting cookies.

it’s the easiest thing in the world to curl into his side, mould together until you’re part of him, and drift off.

the heat wakes you up.

you stir, eyes fluttering open, searching for the source of the onslaught of warmth. it clicks quickly, and you realise that you hadn’t dreamt the events of the night before.

lando is in your bed.

lando had protected you.

lando had wanted you since you were stupid kids who didn’t know any better.

he is the heater that had woken you up, and suddenly you don’t care that you’re far too hot. you curl back into his side, head rests on his chest. it rises and falls softly, his heartbeat thrums beneath your ear. you are jealous of how pretty he looks when he’s asleep, relaxed and infatuating. you lose track of time, gazing up at him.

a sharp pain in your side makes you groan. you had fallen asleep in your dress, lando in his jeans and his shirt, and now you’re paying for it, your fingers searching for the zipper that was now digging into your side. your movements draw him out of his slumber, and when you look back at him, he’s watching you, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“you okay?” lando croaks, his voice deep and sleepy. it sends shockwaves through you.

“mhm. how did you sleep?” you ask, mindlessly running your hand over his jaw like it was the most natural thing in the world. a smile breaks out across his face, eyes fluttering shut once more.

“really fucking well.” he laughs, almost in disbelief.

“yeah, me too.” you smile at him, shy.

“what’s bothering you?”

“well, a human heater woke me up and now this fucking zipper is killing me.” you joke. it’s weird that this doesn’t feel weird.

“i am pretty hot i guess.”

“yeah, yeah.” you roll your eyes and stand from the bed.

lando sits up, resting on his elbows. his eyes follow you as you walk around the room. you take a bottle of water, drinking half of it before passing it to him. his lips wrap around the bottle and you have to turn away, the ache between your legs that you’d been fighting for months rearing it’s irritating head. you clear your throat, composing yourself.

“need to get this dress off.”

lando pulls himself off of the mattress, stalking towards you. you stop in your tracks and he meets you at the foot of the bed. his hands find your cheeks, thumbs smoothing over your skin in little circles, and then kisses you deeper than he did last night.

it’s impossible not to melt into him, hands running over his chest, his shoulders, and finally finding solace tangled in his curls. if someone told you the morning before that you’d wake up in lando’s arms, you would have cackled, urged them to seek medical attention, and probably spat in their face. how things change.

“i think you should keep it on, look so pretty.” lando breathes, staring down at you. you blush hard, leaning into him.

“but i’m uncomfortable.” you grin coyly. and then, a surge of confidence has you whispering: “i’ll let you take it off if you want.”

“let me make you comfortable first.” lando murmurs, dipping his head down until it rests in the crook of your neck. “want me to get you nice and comfortable, baby?” he kisses up your neck.

you cave, finally.

it takes him all of thirty seconds to have you spread out on his face, laying himself down on the mattress and pulling you on top of him so that you’re hovering over his lips. he mouthes at your panties for a second, getting his first taste of you, and then he drags them to the side, clearing a path. his tongue laves over your cunt, groaning as soon as he gets a proper taste.

your dress fans out over your thighs, and lando has disappeared beneath the fabric. you can tell he’s there, though, by the strong hands gripping onto your thighs, the tuft of curls peeking out, and the feeling of his nose bumping your clit as he buries his face deeper and deeper between your folds.

“lando.” you cry, throwing your head back. the straps of your dress are slipping down your arms, skimming your goosebump ridden skin. he just groans into your pussy in response, pulling you impossibly closer to his mouth, backwards and forwards until you’re grinding down on his willing tongue. you reach down blindly, grabbing one of his hands where it rests on your thigh, and your other threads through his hair, gripping tight as you revel in the pleasure.

lando pulls your clit between his teeth, grazing over the bud and you’re jolting, writhing above him. you feel like you’re going to die, heat pricking all over your skin, your tummy tight from the building orgasm. he’s so eager, sliding his entire face through your slippery folds, obscene sounds falling from his lips that ricochet through your quivering body.

tears prick your eyes when you finally let go, slumping forwards from the overwhelming sensation taking over every single nerve. he lifts you off of him, laying you back on the bed as you come down from your high.

“you okay, baby?” he coos, brushing sweat dampened hair from your eyes.

his lips are stained, dark pink and shiny, a mixture of enthusiasm and your slick coating them. lando scans your watery eyes, feral at how fucked out you look all because of him, and tantalisingly licks his lips.

“need you.” you moan, reaching out for him. his shirt is wrinkled where he’d slept in it and your shaky hands find the few buttons that are actually done up. you push the material off of his shoulders, pupils blown wide at the sight of his toned chest, at the feel of smooth, golden skin. you pull him in by the shoulders, swallowing him whole as you kiss him with everything you’ve got left.

lando’s hands find your thighs once more, running his hands over them to push your dress up your hips.

“wanted this for so long.” he whispers into the kiss, pulling away so that he can take the dress off of you. he looks ravenous the more he pushes the fabric up your body.

you feel vulnerable under his intense gaze, watchful eyes taking in every movement you make. you try to pull him back in for another kiss but he resists.

“let me look at you, please?” lando asks. “there you go, baby, let’s get this off, hmm?” he sits you up so that he can get it over your head, and you lay back, bare aside from your panties that he’d left in disarray.

he sucks in a breath, raking his eyes over the curve of your lips, your collarbone, the slope of your breasts. his gaze lingers there for just a second, before continuing further over your belly, the length of your legs. you want to hide away, pull him in so that he can’t look at you like this, or just dive under the duvet and stay there until you need to catch your flight.

“god, you’re so, so fucking beautiful.” he gasps, awestruck. he sounds speechless, and you feel yourself going red again.

“come here.” you whine. “needed you for so long.”

your admission seems to kick him into action, because seconds later, he’s on top of you, fingers grazing the band of your underwear while you fiddle with the button on his jeans.

“gonna be good for me, aren’t you?” lando stares you down, tone sending a shiver down your spine. you nod, batting your eyelashes. “words, my love.”

“yes, lando.” you affirm, arching into him. that’s all he needs to know, kicking his jeans away, boxers too.

“good girl. took care of me so well last night, now ‘m gonna take such good care of you.”

your eyes skim his body, honing in on how hard he is. your hand finds his cock, tentative at first, stroking over it softly. it’s heavy in your hands, red and dripping already. he wants this just as bad as you do. you continue to jerk him off, watching the way his eyes squeeze shut and his lips part, soft pants falling out. a low hum sounds from the back of his throat, and you wet your lips, threading your free hand through his hair.

lando opens his eyes at the sensation, gently batting your hand away. he dips down even closer, resting on one of his forearms. he lines himself up and your legs wrap around him instinctively. slowly, he pushes inside of you, his breath catching in his throat.

“fucking hell.” he groans, deep and guttural, something carnal sending shockwaves through his body. “been dreaming about all the ways i’d get to fuck you.”

your eyes roll back and you go languid in his arms, feeling every inch of him slide against your slick walls.

“want you.” you rasp, clinging to him, your fingernails leaving patterns between his taut shoulder blades as you beg for it.

“you have me, baby.” and then he kisses you, messy and slow, stealing the air from your lungs. you’re dizzy when he pulls away, sitting back slightly to change the angle. you cry out, feeling him even deeper and everything is more sensitive, warm. you roll your hips, meeting his thrusts deliciously, and he chokes out a moan as you clamp around him. “yeah, that’s it. fuck yourself like that for me.” he encourages.

this is all too much, too good. you have whiplash, physically and emotionally, eyes pooling with tears as the man you’d wanted so badly that you hated him for it rocks into you. lando hits the right spot every time he pistons his hips harder, and his nimble fingers slide up your abdomen, applying light pressure to your navel that makes you writhe.

“fucking perfect for me. gorgeous.” lando slurs, entranced by the sight of where you’re joined. he can see just how wet you are and it drives him insane, barrelling into you like a man possessed, drunk on every single way that your body responds to him.

his wandering hand finds your breast, kneading it before he traces your nipple. he watches the way it hardens at his manipulation, wetting his lips. he collapses back on top of you, sucking the bud into his mouth. you’re panting, whining beneath him as his tongue swirls over your chest, switching to the other side. you jolt, a silent scream scratching your throat when he slips his hand between your thighs, working your clit with the pad of his thumb. he’s rutting against you, grinding deeper, faster, uncontrollably.

“come on, baby. you’re so close, so tight for me.” he mutters into your skin. you nod frantically, your words lost on you. he kisses over your collarbone, the base of your throat, until he finds your lips.

“so close.” you sigh.

he stops.

“tell me you’re all mine.” lando growls, his entire demeanour changing. the tone of his voice almost finishes you off but you’re suddenly enraged. you’re too close for him to stop.

“c’mon lando.” you hiss, trying to move your hips but he has you firmly in place.

“need to hear you say it.” his hand slithers over your chest, finding a new home at the base of your throat. it makes you throb, the way his thick fingers wrap around you. slowly, his grip tightens, and you see an opportunity.

you buck your hips hard, whimpering at the sensation, but your plan works and now you hover over him. he’s still buried inside you, and you can feel him pulsing as you steal control.

“for once in your life, honey, shut the fuck up.” you smirk, mischievous in victory.

slowly, you build up your rhythm. he feels bigger like this, deeper, and you almost lose yourself in the small circles you make with your hips.

“knew you’d be like this. you liked giving yourself to me but i just knew you’d need to take back control.” lando teases. his hand is back around your neck, squeezing slowly, and you grind frantically, dizzy for him. “i was right last night, wasn’t i, baby? pretending to be my good girl when really,” he pulls you down so that you’re chest to chest. “you’re just a fucking brat.”

lando holds you close as he fucks up into you, feeling the way you go limp on top of him as the pleasure washes over you like a million electric shocks. you’re crying, tears pooling on his chest, because there is nothing you can do, nothing you want to do, but take it. he’s got you right where he wants you, and you’re loving every fucking second of it.

“yeah, baby, take it how you want it.” lando commands through gritted teeth, and you move your hips in a feeble attempt to match his speed. everything is slippery, everything feels wet and flushed.

the power play, the position, the frenzy he seems to be in as he fucks you, it all has you gushing, spilling all over him. you choke out a sob, shuddering as the elastic band in your belly snaps. lando stops his thrusts, replacing them with small rolls of his hips to help you through your orgasm.

a sharp breath and a string of curses from him give you the strength to muster the last little bits of energy you have left to look up at him. you pull your head up off of his chest just in time to watch him shatter into a million little pieces.

his neck flexes as his head rolls back, sinking into the pillow, his eyes tight. swollen lips part and your name falls from between them like a prayer. you can feel him filling you up, his hands tightening their hold on your hips like he’s scared to let go, like the world will stop if he does.

the world stops anyway, because then you’re looking at each other. really looking at each other.

it only takes a second for you to be drawn in and his hands leave your hips to cup your face. his calloused hands feel your skin, stroking over rosy patches on your cheeks. it’s deathly silent all around you, apart from the breathless pants you share.

swollen lips crash hard into yours and you melt. he’s still buried so deeply inside of you, your hips digging into his, impossibly close. you’re blindly reaching for any part of him you can get your hands on, and his big hands slide down your body until they meet the small of your back. ever so carefully, he flips you onto your back, easing your spent body into the mattress.

lando collapses on top of you, mouthes at your neck for a moment, delicate kisses making your eyes flutter shut. the eye contact almost sends you into cardiac arrest as he pulls out, oh so slowly. tease.

he holds you close in the shower, fingers massaging every part of you. sex and sweat are washed away, almost lovingly. you let the water run for far too long, content in clinging to him. it’s quiet, reflective time for both of you, exactly what it needs to be. you’re both hung up on questions that need to be asked, neither one of you brave enough to take the first steps. you know one thing, and one thing only: something has changed, in a forever kind of way.

your hair is stringy, half dry, and you’re stood in your underwear. your legs are still shaky.

“your flight soon?” lando asks. he’s stood in his boxers on the other side of the room, scrunching the water out of his curls.

“yeah.” your throat feels raw.

“and you’re going back to monaco?” he’s stopped what he’s doing now, staring at you. you can see the cogs turning behind his eyes.

you nod.

“fancy a sleepover?” he grins, boyish and careless. your heart falls to your feet.

you’re giggling when he sweeps you into his arms and kisses you into the freshly made bed. the sheets are on the floor by the time you finally remember you have a flight to catch.

you’re his now, you realise. he’s too beautiful for his own damn good.

“baby?” you hear lando call from his bedroom. you make out the faint sound of his footsteps making their way in your direction. he appears before you can even answer him, and he’s smiling softly at the sight of you bundled up in a blanket, sprawled across his couch.

“what is it?” you ask. the next thing you know he’s on top of you, peppering kisses over every single inch of skin he can get to on your face. “hey, get off, muppet.” you whine playfully, ruffling his hair.

“do you know how much i love having you here?” he murmurs. it’s endearing as fuck and you fight a foolish, dopey grin.

“you’ve mentioned once or twice…” you’ve been here since your flight touched down a week ago. you haven’t even been home to get clothes, not that you needed them in his company.

“we might have a teeny, tiny issue.” he squints, pulling a face.

“and what’s that?” you ask, your voice measuring equal parts cautious and amused.

“so, alex called…”

“oh, shit.”

“we have to go to dinner tonight.”

“we have to?”

“he’s suspicious as fuck. you do realise they’ve been plotting for us to happen for years,” you roll your eyes as if you say duh. “and also, you’ve been in monaco for a week and haven’t seen him once. oh, and also, the last time we saw them, we were running away from a fucking crime scene.” lando smiles sarcastically, and you sigh, defeated.

before you can reply, your phone is ringing somewhere beside you. you root around in your blanket searching for it and when you find it:

“son of a bitch.” you exclaim, showing lando the caller ID. alex is one persistent motherfucker.

“hey girl.” alex singsongs down the phone before you can even say hello.

“hello to you too.” you can hear the fear in your own voice.

“dinner. tonight. although, i’m sure lando already told you.” alex teases.

“why would lando have told me? what?” you choke. lando slaps his hand over his face. your voice has gone up several octaves. not suspicious at all.

“so, you’re at home? you haven’t been at his place since last week?” the playful interrogation begins.

“why would i be with lando?” you try and feign disgust at the implication. it does not work.

“because you hate fucked after he beat up that perv? i have to say, i didn’t think he had it in him but he’s been in love with you since he was like, ten, so, you know-”

“bye alex.”’

“you’re not denying it-“

“bye alex!”

you’re flaming red when you throw the phone to the other end of the sofa. lando, as on brand as ever, is cackling into a pillow.

“he is such a fucking shit stirrer.” you bury your face in your hands, slumping back into the fuzzy cushions.

“well, he’s right about one thing.” lando trails off. suddenly he’s looking anywhere but you and you see him gulp, hard, swallowing his words, like he’s too afraid to bare his soul.

“huh?” you ask gently, sitting up to reach out for him. “what’s wrong?”

“we need to get ready for dinner. that’s what he’s right about.” lando says, standing from the sofa and walking towards his room. you’re suspicious, watching him go with furrowed eyebrows.

“lando, behave! you’re the one making me go to this dinner.” you squeal, batting his restless hands away.

you’ve made it as far as the elevator before he pounces on you, caging you in against the metal walls.

“but you look so good, can’t help myself.” he mutters between kisses on your neck, pressing himself even further into you.

the hand that finds it’s way between your legs, exploring beyond the hem of your skirt, is the one that makes you press the button for his floor. why have plans when you can have sex?

he gets through the door to his apartment at lighting speed and carries you all the way to his bed.

when you’re sweating and breathless a good hour later, half of the bedding on the floor with your clothes, you realise you never cancelled your plans.

lando is drawing shapes into the bare skin of your arm, kissing over your shoulder as he does so. his eyes are dropping from all of the over-exertion and you want to count each and every freckle on his face while he falls asleep. he’s cute like this, soft and yours.

and idea comes to your mind, and as if he can see the lightbulb, lando half raises an eyebrow at you. you giggle, somewhat evilly perhaps, and scramble for your phone on the beside table.

“what’re you doing?” lando groans, pouting as his outstretched arms try to find you.

“getting even.” you state.

with the phone in your clutches, you roll back over towards him, holding the camera above you both. he hears the shutter sound as you snap the picture, and peers closer to see the screen. when he sees the groupchat open, he quickly understands what you’re plotting.

“may i?” you ask for his consent.

“are you kidding? go for it. that’ll shut them up.” he laughs sleepily, muttering something about how this is the most lando thing you’ve ever done

FROM: you

TO: the groupchat

1 image attached

couldn’t make dinner. something came up xx

“alex always thinks he’s right, this’ll teach him for being such a little shit.” you flop back into bed even more satisfied than you were before.

you hear lando inhale shakily beside you.

“he is right sometimes you know.” he repeats his earlier words.

you hold your breath. his eyes say so many things that are too delicate to be spoken yet.

“like… like what he said on the phone?” your voice quivers with anticipation, fear. your heart is thunderous, hammering away like it wants to escape the clutches of its cage.

“yeah. i-“ he stops himself. you don’t need him to finish, you know which two words follow. they can follow in good time, you both know it.

“me too, lando.” you coo.

he’s beaming, eyes half shut. you watch as he falls asleep, the both of you ignoring the way your phones are vibrating so aggressively that they might buzz their way off of the night stand. you lose count of his freckles, but it doesn’t matter.

you’ll have plenty of time to figure it out.

let me know what you think :D

taglist

@boysthatgovroomvroom @thegirlinthefandoms @welld0nebaku @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys @rachstash @infinitebells @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @nokiaholland @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @darleneslane @jazzy722 @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @therealone4r @pleasecallmeunhinged @theonlyadrienne @spideylovin

(i ran out of tags omg? whoops) lemme know if you wanna be added or removed <3

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giuseppe-yuki · 6 months ago

Text

snake expert

pierre gasly x snake shapeshifter! reader

w.c.: 1.5k

warnings: a few cuss words

part of my shapeshifting!reader series

summary: when did pierre gain so much knowledge on snakes?

picture credits from pinterest :)

“go, go quick!” pierre whispers, holding in a giggle. he holds his arm an inch above the floor, letting you slither onto the ground smoothly. the rossa corsa walls of the ferrari motorhome clash against the alpine blue of pierre’s team kit. he gone through extreme lengths to sneak into the motorhome with you because approximately half an hour ago, he had formulated a plan to prank charles. he knew his best friend hated snakes, so like best friends do, he convinced you to sneak into charles’ drivers room to scare the living shit out of him.

you slithered against the wall, trying your best to camouflage in the shadows while pierre tiptoed towards charles’ room- rather conspicuously with his blue team kit, you might add. it was honestly mind-blowing how a ferrari team member hadn’t passed by the hallway and seen pierre. he continued tiptoing towards your final destination, with a wide grin plastered on his face and his phone out with the camera app pulled up.

when you arrived at charles’ door, you waited for pierre to crack it open before slithering in. charles’ drivers room was split up into two rooms, with the one near the door containing all his racing gear and his f1 sim while the room in the back containing a bed, desk, and massage table. it was separated by a thin sliding door. pierre had been there dozens of times, so he walked in like he owned the place and set up his tripod in front of the door. you could hear charles’ voice speaking in rapid french through the door; probably talking to someone. when pierre gave you the nod, you wedged yourself through the crack in the sliding door and into the second room.

charles was sat on his ferrari-themed bedspread, back facing towards you. he was wearing his team kit along with the possibly ugliest pair of jeans you have ever seen, and in his hands was a hedgehog, listening intently to him talk on about something- probably ferrari’s shit strategies. taking advantage of his preoccupied attention, you continue your climb up his bedspread and towards him. when he spots you coming towards him, his eyes immediately widen in fear and with his quick reaction skills, absolutely propels his entire body the opposite direction of you. the hedgehog (his girlfriend probably, you deduce) that he was holding flies out of his hands but luckily lands softly on the covers of his bed.

“mon dieu! a-a-a snake!!!” he screams, about to bolt out of the room.

from the sliding door, your boyfriend bursts out laughing. he had slid the door open when you were climbing up charles’ bedspread and gotten a 4k ultrahd video of charles reaction.

“mate, you screamed so loud, i thought my eardrums exploded,” pierre says, bent over laughing. “and i don’t think your girlfriend appreciates being thrown across the room like that!”

you look back towards the direction of the hedgehog, and sure enough, sits a girl in a gorgeous floral babydoll dress with her arms crossed in front of her chest, pouting at charles. “i can’t believe you just punted me like that, mon cheri!” she says, even though you can tell it has a hint of teasing laced into it. charles quickly crosses the room to console his girlfriend, all the while glaring at pierre.

“mate, i fucking hate you,” charles spits out towards pierre, “i swear to god i’m gonna get you back one day!”

you turn back into your original form as well, giggling as you climb off charles’ bed. “that was funny, i’m not going to lie.” once off the bed, you reach your hand out and introduce yourself to charles’ girlfriend. “hey, nice to meet you! i’m sorry i made your boyfriend fling you onto the bed.”

she laughs, “it’s nice to meet you too.” gesturing to charles, who is now chatting to pierre on the other side of the room, she continues,” i think you affected him much more than he affected me! i swear i felt his heart skip a beat when you scared him!”

half an hour later, pierre walks out of charles’ driver room, now armed with one blackmail video, 3 cans of celcius, and you coiled up around one of his arms. “that was really funny baby, we should totally do that to yuki!” pierre exclaims.

before you can respond, oliver bearman turns the corner of the ferrari motorhome. “pierre gasly?” he says, mouth gaping. “what are you doing here? were you stealing celsiuses from the ferrari motorhome?”

caught off guard, your boyfriend stutters out a response. “n-n-no! um- i was just visiting charles and wishing him good luck for the race later today!”

ollie nods understandingly, but then his eyes widen as he spots you, “ wait, how about the literal six feet snake on your arm? i just heard you call it baby???”

“er- yeah about that…um yeah thats like- her name…kind of?” pierre stammers, scratching his head and giving a convincing half-smile. you flick out your tongue, hissing a little for good measure.

“oh, um, okay,” ollie says. “you should probably go though, i don’t want reporters accusing you of breaking and entering the ferrari motorhome.”

pierre nods, and starts walking to the alpine garage.

when you and pierre arrive, its like a bomb went off in the alpine motorhome. there are engineers in every square inch of garage space trying to fix up the car in time for the prix, strategists typing away on the computers, cameramen fixing up their camera wires, reporters shuffling through prompt papers, and car parts lying everywhere. jack doohan is standing the corner of the room scrolling on his phone, and ocon is cleaning his helmet on a counter with what you’re pretty sure is a flying squirrel clutched to one of his wrists.

pierre had talked to you before about setting up a snake enclosure in the alpine garage, so you could be more comfortable watching his race, while also having the benefit of not being bombarded by the media spotlight.

he seeks out one of his alpine assistants, and explains his plan to him. “hey man, i really think that we should set up a snake terrarium for my snake here.” he points to you curled around his arm, like you weren’t already quite obviously out of place in a setting like the alpine garage. “she’s really, really important to me and i will be bringing her every race weekend with me, so it would be great if we could set up an area for her to chill at every prix this year?”

his assistant gapes at him, mouth open. “so let me get this straight, you’re bringing this snake to every grand prix? is it like, your emotional support animal like yuki’s bunny? does it attack bad people who get near you?”

“yuki’s what??” pierre exclaims. “when did yuki get a emotional support bunny? and no? my snake does not attack people…well actually it might scare them occasionally,” he admits, thinking of his prank on charles. “anyways, this snake is just extremely important to me,” he finishes.

you roll your eyes internally. of course your boyfriend doesn’t know about yuki’s “emotional support bunny”/ attack bunny/ girlfriend. he was busy plotting his prank on charles while you went and had brunch with yuki’s really nice girlfriend (she had explained to you that she apparently only shows her mean side if somebody tries to hurt her or her boyfriend). maybe you could plan a double date dinner so everyone could catch up on the latest news? you had heard yuki was a great cook.

you are snapped out of your thoughts by pierre when he places you on the counter next to race suit and helmet. it is like he is in his own world as he explains the high level details of how he wants your snake terrarium designed to the assistant, who is now joined by an engineer who you suppose is going to be designing the terrarium itself. he waves his hands animately as he explains.

“-at least forty gallons! not thirty, not twenty, not even ten gallons! it needs to be big enough for her or else she will feel cramped. for the heating, make sure to use under tank heating pads. do NOT buy the overhead habitat bulbs- those stress my snakes out. also, make sure it only heats half of the tank and not the whole thing, because it is good for snakes to have a range of temperatures to chose from. i know my baby really well, and i know that she likes the temperature exactly at 27-29 C on one side and 32 C on the other. the humidity in the cage MUST be at the right level too.”

both the assistant and engineer stare at pierre, a look of amazement on both of their faces. “damn pierre,” the engineer says, shaking her head. “when did you learn so much about snakes? won’t your girlfriend get jealous that you're going to have a giant terrarium built for your snake but nothing for her?”

taglist: @ilivbullyingjeongin @ale-522 @formula1-motogpfan @aceyalonso @my0hmary @mbappebby

#f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 rpf fic #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 imagine #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly x y/n #pierre gasly x you #pg10 x reader #pg10 imagine #📝

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killerpancakeburger · 10 months ago

Text

I'm the powder, you’re the fuse

SUMMARY: Soap finds out that his girlfriend is a skilled mercenary. And that he likes it... a lot.

PAIRING: Soap x f!Reader

TAGS: Established relationship, Badass!Reader, Smitten!Soap.

WARNINGS: Canon violence, misogynistic comments/insults, mention of: blood, death, kidnapping/hostage taking, torture, weapons, suggestive content (Soap is Horny), military inaccuracies, swearing.

WORD COUNT: 1.9k

A/N: yes I am still writing the civilian fic with Ghost and Soap... but then I had this idea and thought I could finish it ""quickly"". Written on mobile so if there are mistakes feel free to tell me!!

Soap let out a yawn big enough to dislocate his jaw, staring at his captain with mild resentment.

“This couldn’t hae waited til after breakfast, sir?”

“‘Fraid It could not, John. Actually in just a few minutes you'll be barking at me to know why we haven't gotten a move on already.”

Johnny looked back at his superior with perplexity, before glancing over at his teammates around the table, hoping for a scrap of information. Ghost remained imperturbable while Gaz shrugged.

“We received this video thirty minutes ago. Addressed to a certain Sergeant MacTavish.”

His captain turned on the projector and crossed his arms, leaning against the wall behind him. It was his teammates’ turn to glance at him questioningly, and to him to shrug with ignorance.

The Scottish soldier rubbed his face in an attempt to get rid of his lasting drowsiness as the video projected on the white screen facing them was starting.

A group of armed men in balaclavas were occupying a room. The one in the front spouted the classic ransom demand in exchange for a hostage. Nothing worth being summoned at the crack of dawn for.

Then the spokesman moved aside, revealing their detainee, bound to a chair and gagged, shooting daggers at her captors, and Soap almost knocked over the table with how brutally he stood up. Carried away by white-hot fury, he slammed his hands on the table.

“Fuckin’ - what the fuck is this!? When did this happen? Where are those fucking bastards? I -”

Rage had roughened his usually smooth voice, granting it a gravelly pitch, turning his shout into a growl.

“Control yourself, Sergeant”, interrupted Price, “It's not over yet.”

On the screen, the same man as before grabbed your hair, ignoring your murderous glare, forcing you to look at the camera, and coaxed you with disdain before taking off your gag:

“Come on doll, gonna have to beg real pretty for your man to get him to rescue you.”

The second your mouth was freed, you snarled at him, baring your teeth like you were about to bite.

“I'm gonna rip your throat out with my bare hands, you f-”

“Fuck, someone muzzle that rabid bitch”, swore your agressor, your belligerence clearly having thrown a wrench in his plans.

Soap could not help the flare of pride soaring in his chest at the view of your defiance and your grit.

After receiving their orders, the team left the room to prepare themselves for the assault.

“A friend of yours?” asked Gaz, while Ghost questioned “Ya know her?”

“That's mah girl”, admitted the Scotsman, a bit sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, looking away. The cat was out of the bag. For your own sake, you had been a well-kept secret, but it was blatant that it didn’t protect you.

“Been together for a year. Never meant to drag her into this, though.”

“She sounds like a bloody riot, mate.” teased Garrick.

“She doesn't seem fazed to be taken hostage. Mainly pissed.” pointed out Ghost, wary.

“She's fearless.” admitted Soap with an enamored little smile. “Doesn't mean we don’t have to get her out of this though.”

His expression shifted from fondness to cold determination.

“‘F course.”

“We've got your back.”

“Gaz? You copy?” called Ghost over coms.

The afornamed was tasked with overwatch. His response arrived, marked by hesitation.

“... I don't think she needs our help, guys.”

“The fuck s’that supposed to mean?” grumbled the Lieutenant.

“It'd be better if you'd see for yourselves. Third window on the right, second floor.”

Ghost took out a pair of binoculars and pointed them at the given position.

“Fooking hell…”

The expletive was mumbled with a mix of surprise and… awe?

“What? What! Lemme see L.T.!” pleaded Soap.

Ghost quickly passed him the tool, eager to make him shut up. The sergeant hastened to shove them against his face. His gaze took in the sight in front of him and he let out an appreciative whistle.

“Steamin’ jesus…”

He drank in the view that was your bloody display of fierce skill and deadly efficiency. You staggered between the enemies with fluidity, making them seem like clumsy amateurs. Slicing a throat there, shooting a head here, he watched with fascination as you used a dead attacker as a human shield.

“I think I'm hard.”

“TMI, Soap.”

Gaz coupled his comment with a gagging noise.

“Can ye blame me! Mah lass is oot there bein’ a bonafide badass ‘n’ that's the hottest shit a've ever seen.”

“M not blaming you for being a horny bastard, I'm blaming you for not keeping it to yourself.”

“If you two are done bickering, we could go pick her up.” groaned Ghost.

Letting Garrick past, he grabbed Soap by the shoulder as he was walking by him.

“You knew?”

“Knew what?”

“That you were going out with a killer.”

“Nae, but it turned out to be a good thing, didn’t it? Cannae imagine how badly this would have ended with a civilian. The wounds, the trauma…”

Ghost let out one of his grunts that Johnny knew meant “I disagree but it's not worth debating you about it.”

Positioning themselves near that final entrance, Soap nodded in response to Ghost's hand signal, waiting for him to break the door down. They were still on their gard in case some of the assailants survived.

In the ensuing silence, your voice reached his ears through the wall he was propped against.

“Come on doll”, you taunted, imitating your captor's scornful tone from earlier, sickly sweet then venomous. “Tell me who you work for and I won't gouge out your remaining eye.”

Johnny gulped. Eavesdropping on this definitely did not help with the… situation in his pants.

The racket produced by Ghost dealing with the door had the merit to make him focus once again.

His body moving automatically, his training taking over, Soap charged into the room, pointing his rifle at the only person left standing there. Like a reflection of himself, you were aiming your own firearm at him. Your eyebrows were frowned in concentration, your eyes glinting with cold determination. Then recognition dawned on your face, and you heaved a sigh of relief, lowering your weapon.

“It's you! You scared the shit out of me.”

Relief flooded through him at the sight of you, bruised, battered, and blood-spattered, but alive. He tossed his gun aside as you put down yours, ready to embrace you, but Ghost's voice stopped him in his tracks.

“Back off, Soap.”

An order. Johnny stared at him in shock.

“What the hell, L.T.?”, he hissed in his direction.

You docilely raised your hands in the air as the masked man lined up the end of his gun's barrel with your head.

“Worst rescue party ever”, you mumbled to yourself.

“Sorry, Johnny”, grumbled Skullface, not sounding sorry in the slightest, never taking his eyes off you. “But do your usual conquests take down a dozen armed men on their own?”

Illustrating his words, he gestured with his rifle to the ground littered with corpses. The man you had started to interrogate - the only one left alive - whined in pain.

“So what's your deal? Ya a mole? Shagging Johnny for intel?”

“Ghost!” Soap gasped, offended for himself as much as for you. “M not some clueless newbie!”

You made a face at the question. You understood where he was coming from, hell you’d do the same if the roles were reversed, but that didn’t mean you enjoyed sharing details of your sordid past, especially with a stranger. The less people knew about it, the better.

“I used to be a mercenary for a family who did organized crime. Been clean for years though.”

“Oh yeah? They let you leave just like that?”

“The boss’ daughter had a soft spot for me.”

The lieutenant stared at you for a few more seconds, as if judging the veracity of your statements through sight alone, before lowering his weapon.

A resounding “Bonnie!” rang out. Next thing you knew, your boyfriend's muscular arms closed around you, causing you to yelp, pain running through you at the overeager contact. Soap cursed and apologized profusely.

“Bloody hell, a'm sorry, didnae mean tae hurt ye. Are ye alright? Show me where it hurts. If those bastards leid a hand on ye, I swear-”

There was something both flattering and arousing with how the more Soap lost his cool, the more pronounced his accent became, and the rougher his voice sounded. You placed a finger across his mouth to put an end to his verbal onslaught, an endeared smile on your own.

“At ease, soldier. I'm OK, just some bruised ribs and a busted eyebrow.” you summarized while pointing to the trickle of dried blood on the side of your face.

He leaned his forehead against yours, a gesture that felt terribly intimate, an adoring grin adorning his lips.

“Cannae believe ye wiped out those sorry fuckers all on yer own. Fuck, that's hot.” he confessed in a subdued tone.

You threw your head back in laughter, only to wince when your sore ribs manifested themselves.

“Never heard that one before. Could get used to it, though.”

You laced your fingers behind his neck, nonchalantly leaning against him, not fighting back an impish smile. Soap's hands grabbed your hips in response. Your roguish expression must have gotten the better of his restraint, because one breath later, he was hungrily pressing his mouth against yours. You replied in kind, swiftly deciding you did not care for his colleagues’ presence, and he moaned in appreciation.

After a minute or two, you broke the kiss against your will, remembering an issue that needed to be solved. You smiled, amused by the vision that was Soap chasing your lips blindly, then pouting when you refused him.

“So you guys are gonna take care of the bodies, right…? I can deal with one or two, but this is a bit much.”

The last soldier, the one you didn’t hear from yet, a pretty man with dark skin that Soap would later introduce as Gaz, assured you that they would handle it.

Transferring your attention back to Johnny, you noticed a trace of guilt in those ocean eyes of his, as he was staring at you.

“Something wrong?”

“Ye not mad at me?”

“Why would I be mad at you?” you frowned.

“It's mah fault if those bastards took ye.”

“Oh, Johnny…” you sighed wistfully, cupping his face. “I knew what the risks were when I chose to date a soldier. Plus, there will always be a chance that my past catches up to me. I was pretty fucking mad when I got a hood shoved on my head and my arms twisted behind my back before getting hauled away in the middle of the fucking night, but not at you.”

Once they gathered all the intel they needed and dragged away the only survivor, the team and you left the building. Your testimony was required for the mission report, so you accompanied them without protest, longing for the care that would be provided by their medical facility.

As you were walking to their vehicule, hand in hand with Soap, you noted how he couldn’t take his eyes off you.

His cerulean eyes kept greedily roaming all over you, like you were a vision so dream-like it was making him doubt your reality, like you would vanish the second he stopped contemplating you.

“Yer one badass lass, y'know that? ‘M so proud o’ ye. Proud tae be yers.”

A/N: Ghost's "grunts that Johnny knew meant “I disagree but it's not worth debating you about it.” " is based on my grandma 💀

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into-f0lkl0re · 7 months ago

Text

kk arnold x reader

this is for all my kk arnold girlies (yall dont get enough love it hurts)

warnings: none i think maybe just my horrendous spelling

sfw (i might do something nsfw later but idk 🤷‍♀️ If yall like this i will)

———————————————————————

Before dating

* y’all are either team mates or you like work on the uconn wbb team for something

* i cam honestly see you working on the media team (yk how it is with the kk arnold show)

* like you are a student at uconn but you do this to put on your portfolio/resume and also it pays

* you are the only media girly who puts up with kk’s antics

* like everyone else runs for the hills when kk starts acting up but you are there trying not to kys- i mean laugh

* like the whole team loves you cuz you take fire photos and you are just awesome and amazing in general

* but kk is like 😍😍😍 “she doesn’t find me annoying or atleast acts like she doesn’t” 😍😍😍

* talks paige’s ear off about you to the point where paige is contemplating murder

“Paige-paige did you see y/n today”

“she looked so pretty i wonder if she thinks about me”

“do you think we should invite her on the live”

“ paige do you think y/n likes crumbl”

“ i bet she likes warm cookies”

“ do you think she would want to hang out with me?”

and paige is just like 😟🔫

“kk why don’t you just ask her? what is the worst she could say?”

“GIRLLL BOO ARE YOU DUMB TF?!?!?”

“kk the worst she could say is no”

“SHE SAYS NO AND THEN NO MORE KK ARNOLD SHOW AND THEN WHATS THE POINT OF ANYTHING??!!?”

“you have issues”

kk:☹️

the entire team gets so pissed off by kk’s rambling that they take matters into their own hands

it’s after practice or media day or something and you are packing up your gear and kk is just like admiring you from the bench. paige and ice just kinda grab her and push her towards you whispering “man up dude”

kk being kk stumbles and almost falls on top of you then awkwardly just like stands there 🧍‍♂️

“HI”

“oh hey kk what’s up?”

“you took good photos today”

“thank you”

“ofc! you also look really pretty today”

you like her and yk that she likes you so you mess with her a little

“so i didn’t look pretty yesterday?”

“UH-NO-YOU-I MEAN-“

poor girl is sweating

“YOU ALWAYS LOOK REALLY PRETTY”

“thank you kk you look really pretty as well”

“you think i’m pretty?”

“ofc i think you are pretty kk id be blind not to”

“would you -uh- maybe like -uh- wanna go out sometime just us or not like we can invite the rest of the team unless you want it to be just us which would be cool but if you dont-“

“kk i would love to go out with you”

“c-cool like just us? or like the team?”

“like just us”

“ok! cool! cool!”

kk is frantically wiping her sweaty palms on her shorts and does not know what else to say because she didn’t plan this far ahead she just kinda assumed you would say no

———————————————————————

while dating

* kk absolutely adores you

* she is a big physical touch person

* it’s how she shows her love

* she will just lie on top of you and hold you and will not let you go

* she holds on to you for dear life

* like if you have to go to the bathroom while yall are cuddling she is having a fit

“kk get off i have to pee”

“so you are telling me you don’t love me”

“kk you are lying directly on my bladder get off”

“so you hate me and you wish i was dead”

“kk literally what??”

“why do you wanna leave me???!??”

“kk i promise i will be right back”

“ can i just come with you “

“..fine”

she sits outside the bathroom while you are in there

she once tried to hold your hand and you were like

“i love you but i have limits i will not hold your hand while im pissing”

•she loves showing you off to the live

“bab-baby cmere the live wants to say hi”

“hi live”

“yall this is my beautiful girlfriend”

“baby we are doing a talent show what’s your talent?”

“yall my talented girlfriend is gonna sing for yall”

“kk i don’t want to sing”

“baby please”

you end up singing like shake it off or something

“YUP YUP THATS MY GIRLFRIEND!!”

“DOESNT SHE SOUND GREAT!-ANY HATE AND YOU ARE BLOCKED✋”

* you take all of her fit photos and she loves it

“kk baby move over here so the sunlight is infront of you- look to the side and then down- ok perfect hold on-“

and you are just like crouching weirdly with your digital camera or phone trying to get the best angle and you always do

and anyway yall are just perfect and wonderful together

this is kinda shit but i love kk and she deserves more love

i hope yall like it 🤞🤞 please send in requests idk who to do next and idk what to write for fics

thank you for all the love 💗!!!!

big forehead kisses💕💕

-faye

#kk arnold x reader #kk arnold #kk arnold x reader #uconn wbb x reader #uconn wbb #girl boo #paige bueckers #uconn lives

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landososcar · 2 months ago

Text

packing it up ; LN4

— pairing(s) ; college hockey player!lando x figure skater!reader

— summary; in which lando's transfer to a new school not only brings him a new team, classes, and friends, but a girl who will change his life forever.

— warnings; not edited, i'm not american, im also not a figure skater so there's probs plenty of inaccuracies lolll

chapter one — prev … next

⸝⸝ ʚ 𖥔❆ ! ⌗ °•˚❆ ˖⋆*ೃ ༄

“did you hear about the new hockey guy getting transferred? oscar was saying he’s like the best college player in the country” lily and i never really talked about hockey unless her boyfriend and his friends were around, yet here we are. the mention of the sport easily piqued my interest and my eyebrows raised as i wiped down the bench-top that separated my best friend and i.

“why would the best in the country get transferred here… of all places?” my question sounded like a dig at our schools team, and whilst that may have been my underlying intention, it was true. our school hadn’t won anything to do with team sports in decades, and we weren’t about to start winning again anytime soon.

she pulled her phone out of her pocket whilst muttering something about showing me the new guy because he’s starting when break finishes. “i don’t understand — why’s this so last minute? school goes back in three days?”.

she shook her head at my question before explaining that “it’s not actually last minute, they’ve been planning the transfer for a couple months but oscar forgets to tell me important things like this”. it made sense but now i didn’t understand why this was considered important to lily.

the confused look on my face must have prompted her to continue talking because she gasped and squealed “oh! i didn’t tell you - he’s gonna be oscar’s new roommate! the two boys have already planned to go out for dinner the first night after his transfer so they can get to know each other a little better” as the words were leaving her mouth she turned her phone towards me.

the screen was lit up by an instagram account and before i got a proper look, lily stated: “his name is lando! he’s cute isn’t he?”. my hands grabbed her phone to focus more on the photos he’s posted — many hockey related, but more importantly, a couple of shirtless ones.

lily calling him cute was an understatement; i’m pretty sure that he’s the most beautiful man i’ve ever seen in my life. i shook myself out of the trans i was in — yes he’s adorable, but lily would never let me live this down. lily can’t know how cute i think this man i’ve never met is. lily can’t know that i want to steal her boyfriend’s new room mate.

but i either overestimated my ability to hide the growing crush or i underestimated my best friend’s ability to see straight through me. she squealed! she actually squealed and gasped and pointed her manicured finger at me — simultaneously! “oh i am so setting you two up, you think he’s fine- oh my god i need to tell oscar he will definitely help me set yo-“.

“you are not telling oscar a thing!!” i whisper shouted, although it seemed pointless as the few left over people in the cafe had already given us harsh looks due to lily’s squealing after her ‘groundbreaking discovery’. if oscar knew, he’d tell lando, and i would never be able to come face-to-face with the new boy if he knew.

lily scoffed at my objection but i kept talking before she was able to try and make up a story about why telling her boyfriend would be a good idea, “as if lando would even car. he doesn’t know who i am and he’s the best college hockey player in the country so he definitely wouldn’t care about me when there’s probably thousands of girls begging for his attention.”

the eyes staring into my soul narrowed and i could tell she wasn’t happy with something that i said. “okay, but you’re different,” she continued before i could argue about how insane she sounded, “firstly, you’re the hottest girl in the countr— do not shake your head at me, i will slap you— secondly, i don’t care if he’s got hundreds of girls begging for him because he obviously doesn’t care about them-“

“so why would he care about me?-“

“thirdly, i have something those girls do not— my boyfriend, aka, an in!”

“you’re insane”

“and you’re coming to dinner with us tomorrow night after he has moved his stuff into oscar’s room!” the legs of her chair were scraping against the floor and before i could protest, the girl was flying out the door of my workplace, “i love you!”

she had to be kidding. i couldn’t go to dinner with him, i can already see me making an absolute fool out of myself.

⸝⸝ ʚ 𖥔❆ ! ⌗ °•˚❆ ˖⋆*ೃ ༄

it was hard to focus on the way my skates slid along the ice when all i could think about was this dinner i was being dragged to. i don’t know where we’re going and therefore, don’t know what to wear, not to mention i have to face oscar when i was absolutely certain lily had told him every detail of our conversation from yesterday. normally, skating helps distract me but it wasn’t helping at all today.

my attention was grabbed however, when the bulky doors to the school’s skating arena clicked open. i spun and turned to look at who walked in but heard his voice before i could see him.

“i figured i’d find you in here” jax, my skating partner’s voice echoed around the mostly empty building.

jax and i have been skating together since we started middle school. eventually, he got a scholarship for silverbrook university and we decided i had to do everything i could to join him at our now shared school. if i hadn’t gotten into silverbrook, jax and i would have had to find new skating partners, which would have basically resulted in us starting from scratch with new people.

skating in pairs takes an awful lot of trust and chemistry — i need to be able to completely rely on jax’s ability to fling me in the air and catch me before i go crashing to the slippery surface beneath us. and i do, which is why jax and i are such a good skating duo.

and while i’d trust him to throw me ten feet into the air, i wouldn’t trust him with my lactose intolerance. that probably sounds stupid but jax and i know each other on the ice — if someone asked me what his middle name was, i wouldn’t be able to tell them.

i consider jax my friend but i don’t think i’d go out for dinner with him. “hey jax! are you coming for a skate?”

i noticed jax’s usual smile slightly falter and i could tell something was off. the boy was known around campus for the smile that practically never left his face — well, that and the fact he’s the best figure skater in the state. before i could ask him if something was wrong, he blurted out words that almost sent me ass up from where i was standing on the ice.

“i’m going solo — maria and i thought it would be good for me to step away from duo skating for the next season”.

saying i was upset that my skating partner and our coach was ditching me would be an understatement. but the worst part is that i heard the words ‘next season’ come out of his mouth. next season, as in the season that started with the school year. next season, as in the season that had competitions beginning in three weeks.

“you’re fucking with me, jax,” the thoughts racing through my mind made it impossible to say coherent sentences to the man in front of me. “jax, you’re ditching me and taking our coach! what the fuck am i supposed to do? am i supposed to just find a spare figure skating coach and partner off the street? you guys have completely fucked me over! i can’t believe this.”

the words poured out of my mouth before i could stop them and i couldn’t find it in myself to regret them. there was nothing i could do to save myself from the predicament that two of the people i trusted the most in this world had put me in.

i got off of the ice and put my blade guards on as quickly as possible before storming directly past him. i had to regulate my breathing so i didn’t have a panic attack right there in the locker rooms. i grabbed my phone out of my bag and went to message lily but stopped myself.

i couldn’t tell her how much of a hole i had been pushed into. especially not when she was probably at oscar’s house, helping the new star skater move in.

⸝⸝ ʚ 𖥔❆ ! ⌗ °•˚❆ ˖⋆*ೃ ༄

it should be made known that i have the tendency to be late to things, no matter their importance. so, when i texted lily that i was going to be a couple minutes late to dinner, her quick response of ‘okie dokie x’, showed that she expected nothing more from me.

as i stepped into the restaurant, my nerves tangled with the lingering emotions of the day. it felt like my confidence had been shattered on the ice earlier, but i plastered on a smile, determined not to let it show. my focus was on getting through dinner before begging lily to spend the night at our dorm rather than her boyfriend’s so we could debrief.

“look who’s finally here!” lily's voice rang out as her eyes found me, her smile as bright as ever. i smiled at her apologetically but her face didn’t show anything but a smile for even a split second.

i walked over, exchanging quick hugs with lily and oscar before turning to face lando. up close, he was even more attractive—his bright smile and confident posture radiated an easy charm. when he pulled me into a hug, his warmth caught me off guard.

“it’s so nice to meet you,” i said, my voice betraying a little of my nervousness.

as an overthinker, i’d spent all day worrying about how awkward this dinner was going to be but as his arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me into a hug, i’d never felt more comfortable meeting someone.

“yeah, you too!” he replied with a grin that seemed to light up his entire face. he smelled faintly of fresh cologne, and i scolded myself for noticing.

as we all sat down, the conversation flowed easily. lando fit seamlessly into the dynamic, his easy banter with oscar balancing out lily’s usual exuberance. i tried to relax, though my mind still wandered to the mess jax and maria had left me with.

“so, y/n,” oscar said as he passed me a menu, “lily and i were telling lando about your figure skating.”

at the mention of skating, i felt lily’s eyes snap toward me. my stomach twisted, but i forced a smile. “yeah, i’ve been skating for a while now.”

“she’s amazing,” lily cut in enthusiastically. “you should see her perform; she’s unreal.”

“wow,” lando said, looking genuinely interested. “what kind of skating do you do? like competitions?”

“pairs skating,” i replied, trying to keep my voice even. “competitions mostly. it’s... a lot of work.” i let out a breathy chuckle, trying to stop my voice from breaking – doing anything to stop myself from breaking down in front of my friends and the new boy i’ve just met. there was a pause as i took a sip of water, and i saw lily’s brows furrow slightly, sensing something was off.

oscar, oblivious to the uneasiness in my voice, nodded appreciatively. “lando you should come watch her next comp; lily and i go to as many as we can – you can join us!” lando nodded eagerly but stopped when lily cut her boyfriend off.

“–is everything okay, y/n/n?” she could tell something was off at the moment, and as much as i didn’t want to burden oscar and lando with my new skating drama, the way she asked made it impossible to brush off.

i hesitated, but under the weight of their collective stares, the words tumbled out. “jax decided to go solo. and maria’s going with him. he only just told me this morning.” i let out a heavy sigh and it was clear that neither of the boys knew what to say in the moment.

lily, however, refused to stay silent and gasped. “what? that’s insane! with the season starting so soon? what are you supposed to do?”

i shrugged, my gaze fixed on the table. “i don’t know. figure it out, i guess.”

“that’s a jerk move,” lando said, his voice tinged with anger. “to leave you hanging like that? who does that? especially with the season so close.” i sent him a grateful smile and he continued talking, “i’m assuming the season starts at the same time as the hockey season, yeah? that’s like three weeks away… what a dick move!”

i glanced at him, surprised by the intensity in his tone. his expression was sincere, his brows furrowed as if he genuinely cared. “thank you, lando,” i murmured, “it’s fine though, i’ll just have to make it work”.

“you’ll figure it out, y/n,” lily said, her voice firm. “you’re too good not to.”

i nodded, appreciative of her faith in me, though i couldn’t quite share it. the rest of the dinner passed in lighter conversation, but i couldn’t shake the warmth of lando’s defense or the nagging question of what i was supposed to do next.

lilyzneimer added to their story!

⸝⸝ ʚ 𖥔❆ ! ⌗ °•˚❆ ˖⋆*ೃ ༄

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cheriladycl01 · 2 months ago

Text

Fast Cars on the Island - Oscar Piastri x LoveIslandContestant! Reader Part 5

Plot: Your an engineer for Mclaren and you were asked as a PR stunt to go onto Love Island. You would keep your job of course but Mclaren wanted some more media traction.

A/N: I know they would never do this, and that's why its fiction!

In the Villa the Next Day:

“I feel off about Zavi” you say to Daniel as you guys sit on the sunbed together looking round to see if anyone could possibly be listening other than the mic strapped to your body.

“What do you mean?” He asks, pushing his sunglasses up his forehead to sit atop of his head.

“Don’t you think it was … odd? I don’t think I’ve ever seen them talk” you said to him leaning over to grab your bottle of water and sip on it.

“Yeah it was strange … maybe they have their own thing going on and all of us have just been too busy to see it” Daniel comments looking around.

“So what is the plan going forward going to be?” Daniel asks her looking over her expression.

“With us?” You ask politely sitting up and placing your feet back in your flip flops on the hot floor.

“Mmmmm”

“Well, unless you wanna get to know me” you tease with your eyebrows going up and down in a funny way making Daniel burst out laughing. “But seriously you deserve to be happy … happier than me because of my reasons for being in here. So if you find a connection with someone here don’t worry about staying loyal to me” you say seriously and he nods, rubbing one arm on your thigh in thanks before giving it a light tap.

Lando and Oscar:

“Yeah I’m with Y/N on that. This Zavi girl is giving off bad vibes, I bet she isn’t gonna stay loyal to Charlie surely!” Lando asks watching the TV in his drivers room.

“Even if she doesn’t why do we care? I thought we hated Charlie” Oscar asks confused.

“We do but if Zavi continues on like this it’s gonna make things harder for our girl” Lando says concentrating more on watching Auriela in the rant room.

“One when did she become our girl? And Two don’t we want her back at the races?” Oscar asks confused making Lando roll his eyes and sigh.

“Hey she’s always been my favourite team member. Don’t tell Will or John that yah? And oh my god we defo want her to stay in there, unless you don’t want her to be happy and find love because there’s underlying circumstances one, ie me, doesn’t know about!” Lando asks giving him side eye.

“N-no definitely not” Oscar says gluing his eyes back to the TV.

“But I think this TV show is so superficial, she deserves the best and she isn’t gonna find it here” Oscar begins making Lando laugh knowing Oscar did infact have a different opinion.

Back to the Villa:

You and Daniel lay on the bed, Millie and Chris also there just chilling you were all getting to know each of her better talking about life before coming here.

“It got to the point that I just couldn’t go through the heartbreak anymore and it was like I was the problem without actually being the problem you know?” Millie asks looking at all of you who have cocked heads.

“Erm no” Chris laughs before adding some lip balm to his sun dried lips before offering it around.

“I mean, this is really different for me. I feel like I’ve never really had a proper relationship not like you guys describe because I’ve been so focused on my career and getting there. It hasn’t been easy one bit” you admit, knowing especially as a woman it was hard work to get to where you were now.

“I get that, being career focused is good but it also helps when you have someone to share the burden of life with” Daniel nods.

“I don’t really think I’ve ever had any burdens. I love my job, beyond measure and it’s such a team dynamic that whatever I’ve lacked in relationship support has been picked up by my team mates and those around me constantly” you admit and they all nod.

“Hey so what actually is your job, I feel like we’ve never been told” Chris asks.

“Erm well I’m an engineer” you explain and they all look up intrigued.

“Really that’s pretty cool” Millie smiles wiping some sun cream across her nose preparing to go for a dip outside.

“Mmmm I love my job, means I travel around a lot which I love” you grin.

“A hence the no proper relationships! You dirty girl. Hooking up in all corners of the world” Chris teases slapping your arm lightly.

“An experience for sure. Very lavish” you join the teasing and all of you laugh.

Lando and Oscar:

He’d seen the latest article and he immediately popped his head through Lando’s driver room.

“Lan, have you seen the article” he says and Lando looks up in shock, hunched over the massage bed, John working on his legs.

“What the fuck Oscar. Have you ever heard of knocking?” Lando asks.

“No I haven’t not a custom in Australia” he says bluntly, but Lando having known Oscar for over a year knows this is his way of being sarcastic.

“Argh you’re annoying, go on.” Lando says patting John in thanks before sitting up and rubbing his own knee out.

“Y/N told people in the Villa it’s finally got out and there are headlines in the daily mail and loads of other papers. She’s even in auto sport” Oscar says showing his phone in his team mates face.

“Yes that is normally what happens when big news gets consumed by the media” Lando smiles.

“Argh but some of them aren’t good articles” Oscar groans not understanding why Lando wasn’t getting his worry.

“Mmmm that also tends to happen when it’s something controversial. Look Osc, Y/N knew what they were getting into when they agreed to do this for Zac. She’s a big girl. And hey maybe people will see a different side to women in motorsport because of her” Lando nods his head making Oscar sigh and take a seat with him.

“Yeah you’re right” Oscar says.

In the bathroom of the Villa:

You’d just got out of the shower, Aaron having been brushing his teeth while you were in there. You’d both randomly started to sing As the Word Caves in by Matt Maltese and you guys actually didn’t sound too bad.

“We should form a Love Island Band and call it the Lovers” Aaron gasps after spitting into the sink and catching your eyes in the mirror.

“Oh my god! We should ask if we can do a set! That would be so funny! Doesn’t Auriela play the piano too!” You ask meeting his eyes as you brush through your hair.

“I GOT A TEXT!” A scream runs though the house and before you know it your wrapping a large fluffy pink towel around your body and you and Aaron are quickly going down the stairs as carefully as you can without slipping.

“Islanders … Y/N are you still in a towel?” Charlie bursts out laughing making you blush as you tighten it around you.

“I didn’t wanna miss this!” You cry in embarrassment before they continue.

“Anyway. Islanders with a boring afternoon ahead we thought it would be nice to let you guys chill and watch some TV. Head outside the villa entrance to see what awaits” Charlie reads out, you immediately run back up, fully drying off before changing into swimsuit and a day outfit before running up to joining the others.

“I’m kinda excited” you admit to Chris and Auriela who you were stood next to them.

“Excited? To watch TV?” Chris asks in shock.

“Well we aren’t just going to be watching TV are we! We’ll be … doing some kind of challenge. Maybe fighting for like dates?” You grin thinking off all the possibilities.

“Oh so true, yeah this should be good!” Auriela smiles grabbing Chris hand and walking with him as you come up to Daniel and Aaron.

“Hey boys, what we thinking about today?” You say wrapping arms round them pulling their heads down to your height laugh coming from the pair.

“Challenge time and watch out Aaron coz me and my girl Y/N are coming for your ass man” Daniel grins pulling you into his side as you guys all run down the steps to the edge of the beach outside the villa. On the wooden decking was a TV with a remote and a sofa in the front.

“Okay, each couple will take turns doing Trivia for common shows on Netflix whoever comes first gets a date out of the Villa” Charlie reads out holding Zavi close to her.

“Up first Chris and Auriela” Zavi says and they take a seat on the sofa infront of the TV they flick through the shows until it stops of Alice in BorderLands. They smash it both having watched the show actually being shocked that they both know so much about it.

“Okay, up next is Daniel and Y/N” Chris and Auriela smile getting up and holding the question cards.

“Come on Danny let’s go” you cry grabbing his hand and taking him to the sofa not missing the look from Aaron or Chelsea.

“Okay, let’s see what your show is. And we have Drive to Survive?” Auriela asks looking at the screen confused.

“Is this like … Top Gear my dad used to watch that” Auriela asks confused.

“It’s a formula one reality show. Embellishes what happened throughout the racing season” you nod knowing and being familiar with the show.

“Okay question 1. What season did the shows first season focus on?” Chris asks and you smile.

“2018” you grin and a bell goes out making Auriela draw a point on the board for the pair of you.

“Who won the 2021 Championship?” He asks the next question.

“Oooo Max Verstappen, shoulda been Lewis” you mutter with a small laugh as Daniel elbows your side.

“What I didn’t say anything” you grin sheepishly before moving on.

Afterwards more shows came and went. You and Daniel had accumulated the most amount of points. And ended up being surprised with a date that evening.

You were kind of excited as you saw a genuine friend in Daniel and thought it was about time you were honest with someone here in the villa and told him why you were here and who you worked for.

You all headed back to the villa all the girls getting insanely envious despite helping you get dressed. You wore one of your favourite relaxed evening outfits that you’d brought into the villa with you before heading down to the fire pit where Daniel said he’d wait.

Taglist:

@littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

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theemporium · 1 year ago

Note

What about... Pining and yearning driver (doesn't matter who he is tbh) but in reality he's just stupidly in love and doesn't realize reader is also in love with them 😭 happy ending of course <3

thank you for requesting!🖤

“You’re glaring.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Mate, she’s his assistant. Stop planning his murder,” Lando grumbled, though the amusement was clear on his face. He was enjoying each and every second of this.

It wasn’t uncommon for Max to find him in the McLaren motorhome on a Thursday afternoon, especially if they knew they would be in a conference together. The Dutchman would most likely just spend time catching up with his friend, laughing and joking about before they would be guided to the interview by their PR teams.

However, more recently than not, Lando was starting to notice that Max was showing up to the McLaren motorhome for a different reason. A reason that had everything to do with the fact the motorhome beside the papaya orange team was none other than the Ferrari one. And Max had his eye on a certain member of the Ferrari team.

You.

You, who was Charles’ assistant. You, who was currently standing outside the Ferrari motorhome with your boss and his teammate. You, who currently had your hands on Charles’ chest as you tried to smooth out his team polo as best as you could.

Not that Max cared. Not at all. He had no reason to care and he certainly didn’t. Or at least, that was what he was telling himself.

“You know,” Lando continued when the Dutchman had fallen silent. “Charles was telling me he thinks she has a crush on a driver.”

Max’s head whipped around. “What?”

“Yeah,” Lando shrugged casually. “Apparently she admitted it when she was drunk.”

“Who is it?” Max asked almost immediately.

Lando grinned. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t.” he retorted defensively.

“Right,” the Brit laughed before patting him on the back. “God, you are so easy to wind up.”

“Lando,” Max grumbled. “Name.”

“Huh? Oh, it must have slipped my mind,” Lando sighed before shifting the conversation onto something else.

But it didn’t leave his mind. It couldn’t leave his mind. Instead, Max spent the whole press conference wondering who the driver was. He racked his brain on who he saw you interacting with, who he had seen you hanging around more often than the others.

The obvious answers were either one of the Ferrari drivers. But you had always insisted you viewed Charles as a brother, yet that didn’t cross Carlos off the potential list. He wondered if it was either of the McLaren drivers, or maybe even Daniel, his own teammate. He wondered maybe if it was one of the drivers he wasn’t as close to on the grid, that maybe you hung out with them for more than he realised.

His answers during the conference were short, blunt and distracted and everyone noticed.

You had been standing off to the side, phone in hand as you answered a few emails here and there whilst Charles dealt with his media duties. However, your attention was quickly pulled away from your work when you heard the Dutchman speak. And then, you were distracted by your own concern for him when you realised how off he was acting.

You had waited until the end of the conference before you approached him, a sheepish smile on your face when you realised he was far too lost in thought to even realise you were beside him. You placed your hand on his arm, causing the boy to jump slightly and you quickly pulled your hand back.

“I’m sorry,” you apologised with a smile. “Are you okay?”

Max blinked. “What?”

“Are you okay?” you repeated as you wrapped your arms around yourself. “You seem really off today.”

“Uh, yeah,” he muttered, a crease forming between his brows. “Just have a lot on my mind.”

“Anything I can help with?”

Deep down, Max knew you were probably only asking to be polite. He knew you probably expected him to just shake his head and say no so you could run off to help Charles like you should have been doing, rather than standing there talking to him. But the question was plaguing his mind, and who better to give him an answer than you?

“Do you like one of the drivers?” he blurted out.

You blinked, slightly surprised. “What?”

“Do you like one of the drivers?” he asked again, his eyes never leaving yours. “Lando says you did.”

“He did?” you questioned, your voice a little high-pitched and you hoped the Dutchman couldn’t tell your face was burning up. “I wonder where he got that from—-”

“Charles told him,” Max told you.

And you cursed your boss for opening his mouth.

“I…might,” you muttered shyly.

“Who is it?”

“Max—”

“I won’t tell him,” he continued, pretending like the idea of you saying one of his friend’s names wouldn’t make his stomach churn uncomfortably. “I could even help you if you want—”

“No, Max, it’s you,” you interrupted, your nails digging into your palm as you blurted out the words. “You’re the driver.”

Max nodded once but stayed silent.

You instantly wanted the world to open up and swallow you whole. You cleared your throat, taking a step back as you tried to pretend the embarrassment of his blatant rejection wasn’t making you want to curl into a hole and never come out.

“I’m sorry, I should just—” you started but Max quickly intervened.

“Do you want to get dinner with me?”

You blinked at him. “Dinner?”

“Yes, with me,” Max continued. “Tonight. Or tomorrow night. Whenever it works for you.”

“I—” you paused, letting out a breath as you smiled at him. “I would like that.”

Max didn’t bother hiding the small smile on his face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you said and nodded. “I’ll message you when I’m free.”

“I’ll be waiting,” he said, watching as you headed back towards the Ferrari garage, a weight having been lifted off his chest as he watched you go. He couldn’t even deny the butterflies in his stomach as he thought about your message.

Max was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t even see Lando approaching his side, grinning wide like a madman.

“I knew you liked her!”

“Shut up.”

“Max and—”

“Fuck off, Norris.”

“Sitting in a tree–”

“You know what, you can get your own plane home.”

#max verstappen #formula one #f1 #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen fic #max verstappen oneshot #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot

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afterglowsainz · 6 months ago

Text

august | pedri gonzalez

summary: in which pedri was never yours to begin with

fc: sophia birlem

a/n: quick short fic that has been in my drafts for so long you have no idea. anyway, what month is it?

—

liked by pedri, bffusername and others

yourusername cruel summer 💗🌊

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friend1 prettiest girl in barcelona!

friend2 gorgeous gorgeous girl

friend3 omg mine 🥰

bffusername truly a greek goddess that came to bless us with her presence

yourusername omg 😭😭

friend4 all the beautiful girls support barcelona

yourusername so true

liked by yourusername, ferrantorres and others

pedri this is what we do during summer break

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username mate is in summer break and he’s still working at the club 🤡

username he’s definitely committed!

username boyfriend material idc

pablogavi invite me next time to build flower legos and eat donuts

pedri 😬

username who’s the girlie on the last pic 👀

username okay i didn’t thought anything of it but now i can see he was totally on a date 😭

liked by bffusername, friend1 and others

yourusername home-cooked meal served by us🍝

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bffusername tell me the truth did you set the kitchen on fire?

yourusername surprisingly i had a very good sous-chef 😁

friend1 lowkey wanna try your home-cooked meal

yourusername i’ll cook something specially for you🤭

friend2 “us” as in…

yourusername 😇

liked by pablogavi, _rl9 and others

pedri working hard 💪🏽

view all comments

username i was not prepared for a thirst trap

username respectfully looking at that second pic

alejandrobalde or hardly working? 🤨

pedri so funny 🙄

username football players have no need to be this hot

fcbarcelona our golden boy🌟

username unfortunately i am down bad crying at the gym after watching these

yourusername ☺️

liked by bffusername, lamineyamal and others

yourusername hot summer nights 🫧

tagged bffusername and friend1

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friend2 hotter than the summer nights 🥵

yourusername stop it 🤭

bffusername see how much fun we have when you don’t cancel our plans 😁

yourusername i said sorry !!! and yes we have fun 🥰

friend1 beautiful pic but you lost all the pool games

bffusername it was sad to watch really

yourusername stop bullying me!

friend3 it’s giving hot girl summer

yourusername 😀

liked by gfusername, ferminlopez and others

pedri back to the routine ⚽️❤️‍🩹

tagged gfusername

view all comments

username he has a girlfriend what 😭

username they broke up for a couple of months but it seems they’re back together now 🤨

username this is so cute 🥰

sergiroberto back at it 💪🏽

username ohhh so that was the girl he was on a date with earlier

username i still like him 😔

username his girlfriend is very pretty tho

username am i crazy or did he called his relationship a “routine” ???

liked by friend2, bffusername and others

yourusername you weren’t mine to lose.

view all comments

bffusername men ain’t worth nothing 🔪

yourusername i might have to agree with you on that one 😔

friend1 nooo what happened to hot girl summer :(

yourusername more like sad girl summer 🤪

friend2 i hope his team loses every title and he gets fired 😁

yourusername first part is already kinda accurate 🤭

friend3 august is our favourite month anyway 💗💗💗

yourusername 😔

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f1crecs · 2 months ago

Text

Fic Rec List - Fake Dating

if your fic is on this list and you don’t want it to be, please let us know and we will remove it immediately, no questions asked. we have contacted most of the authors on this list, but sometimes people fall through the gaps - just pop us a message🤍

have a pairing you want us to do next? please read the faqs and then head to the inbox.

don’t forget to give the authors featured on this list some love in the form of kudos, bookmarks, and comments!

Carlos/Charles

nsfw: In for a penny, in for a pound by @f1-stuff | E | 49.4k Summary: Charles needs a date for his brothers wedding and instead of finding someone to ask he decides to use an escort agency, as you do. Why I liked it: Listen, I am just a woman and not immune to the hairy charms of Carlos Sainz as a professional gigolo, okay? This fic is amazingly hot and the way the awkwardness transforms to flirty tension and back is impeccable.

"He doesn’t think about it much when he kisses him, their sweat turning it salty, skin flushed and warm from the exercise and the sun. He sucks at Carlos’ bottom lip, and all he feels is satisfaction and relief. And also, maybe, a little arousal. Not because of, like... Carlos. But just because of the high of victory, the exhilaration of beating his ex. Obviously. Not at all because Charles' eyes have been catching all day on the flex of Carlos’ bare thighs, legs lean and muscular and covered in dark hair. Or the tight cupping of his shorts over his ass. Or the movement of his shoulders beneath his shirt, clinging more and more to his skin as sweat dampens the fabric and outlines the shape of his pecs. Or the swell of his arm muscles as he clutches his racquet, flexing with every hit of the ball. Or even the messy sweep of thick, wavy hair at his neck, contained beneath a backwards cap until the end of the game, when he sweeps off the hat to dump his remaining water all over his head, like some sort of soft-core porn shoot. Charles realizes that he’s standing amongst a group of the bridesmaids, all of them staring at Carlos as he smooths the water through his hair and over his face, dripping idly while he zips up his racquet and grabs the rest of his things. Charles shuts his mouth and swallows, wandering away from the group of women before anyone sees him, shame reddening his cheeks."

Daniel/Max

Green Card by @mysticalbreadcollective | M | 10.7k Max is rich and needs a Green Card, Daniel needs some cash and a place to stay. The answer to both problems is for them to get married! I just loved how in sync they are with each other

"Yeah. He’s in the doghouse at the minute, mate. Keeps working late, and doesn’t tell me, do you, honey? And last week I cooked him his favourite meal and he didn’t even bother telling me he wasn’t coming home. Rude or what?” “Well, I of course am sorry, Daniel, already I said this. So many times. I brought you flowers to apologise but you just threw them out. And also, I have to work late. How else am I to fund your shopping habits?”

Lewis/Sebastian

nsfw: Let's try something else by @12romy | E | 20.3k Seb and Lewis come up with a plan to combat homophobia in F1.

“So, uh… I’m in a relationship…” “I mean, you know him pretty well, it's Lewis,” “Lewis. As in… Hamilton?” someone said, stunned. Sebastian nodded then almost died of a heart attack when a voice exclaimed “Yes, I knew it! Pay up losers!!!” He knew the man who screamed that, he was the one in charge of the social media account. “Alright, we'll talk with the Mercedes PR team to see what we can do. The good news is, you won’t need to create an Instagram just for that, Lewis has one already.”

Carlos/Lando

Somethin' Stupid by @ehcahache | T | 6.3k Carlos and Lando have been pining for each other, until Carlos does something unexpected.

"He's either stupid and bored and a masochist, or he's very in love with you, stupid and a masochist." "Max, I'm talking about my outfit, not my hideous life decisions."

like real people do | M | 10.6k Lando panics and tells his family that he's bringing his boyfriend Carlos to the family event, Carlos who's not at all his boyfriend. He turns to Carlos who plays his role a bit too well (with a side of George, Alex and Max teasing him about it). I just love how nonchalant Carlos is about pretending to be Lando's boyfriend, especially in front of his family.

"In that moment, Lando realises that he can never bring another man home to his parents again, because no one is going to compare to Carlos and now he’s going to have to die alone rather than try and find someone better because they definitely don’t exist."

Lando/Oscar

anything you ask i do (for you) by @fear8not1 | M | 22.4k Lando makes a bet. “I bet $100 I can make Oscar the happiest fake boyfriend for a month,” he repeats, holding George’s gaze proudly. “What… ?” Oscar asks again, his eyebrows raised in what must be his most expressive face. “Wait, what ?” George snickers, completely gone and spilling some of his drink in the grass, before answering with a shaky, “$200 you can’t.” I love George just being George. 😁

"Right. The bet. Right. He may have forgotten about that."

you love me (but you don't know it yet) by @nyoomfruits | T | 34.5k After being dumped by a trashy boyfriend Lando panics when questions about the said ex are asked and makes up a lie on the spot. He has a wonderful new boyfriend and he's standing on the 1st row of the fan stage! True is that Lando just panicked and chose the first cute looking guy not wearing Mclaren merch

“How the fuck did you meet Lando, then?” “I was working on this project, the deadline was the next day and it was really kicking my ass. Anyway at around one in the morning I figured I needed a break, so I went to the nearest Tesco to pick up a can of Monster.” “We both reached for the last can of Monster-“ “Ultra Sunrise, baby,” "He started swearing at me.” “Yeah, so he offered it to me, and then I felt bad because you know. I had just yelled at this guy. Over a can of Monster. So I told him he could have it,” “Then that went back and forth for a while,” “Until eventually Lando said to me. ‘You know what? You can have it, as long as I can have your phone number’.”

Charles/Max

nsfw: there you'll stand (next to me) by @minieggs11 | E | 97.1k Max reputation is in need of repair and what better way than to be seen making friends with the grid sweetheart Charles? Surely nothing can go wrong, its not like anyone is going to catch feelings. Why I liked it: The setup of this fic is brilliant and so belivable that Im sure there are many a twitter account dedicated to the conspiracy of Max using Charles for PR. The author has a great voice for both Max and Charles and the evolution of their friendship is so natural that I almost thought the author would let Max's deception pass unnoticed but fear not the emotional devastation will hit and hearts will be broken (and repaired) on both sides.

Pink dusts Charles’ cheeks at the second nickname Max has bestowed on him in as many minutes. Max feels quite warm under his race suit now. Is it getting more humid somehow? Max runs a hand through his damp hair in an attempt to get the few strands hanging over his forehead out of his face. Charles laughs again, a bit higher pitched than before. He smiles and blinks exaggeratedly at Max, before sighing dramatically, “I guess everyone just wants me for my pretty face and my good PR, and you’re no exception, mate.” And– huh. Max knows Charles was joking, but now that Max is looking, he supposes that Charles is well, objectively, quite handsome. In a very classical way. The kind of beauty that’s talked about not as opinion, but as fact. Yes, Charles Leclerc is very pretty, Max would say. But so would anyone. It’s just the truth.

George/Lewis

Mission Couple Goals by @redvh205 | G | 12.7k

“Georgie?” Huh. Well, that was certainly not somebody he’d have expected. In the past him and Lewis had comforted each other after bad races, but they’d never actively sought each other out if one of them was in their driver’s room. Being in the driver's room was the unofficial sign for wanting to be alone, and usually they respected that. If Lewis was here now, that probably meant he’d somehow found a way to turn this into a couple goal mission video. Which George absolutely was not in the mood for. “Go away. I don’t have the patience for cameras right now.” Lewis’s confusion could be heard through the door. “Cameras? What are you talking about?” George sighed. Apparently, his teammate wouldn’t let this go. He stumbled to the door and pulled it open, ready to tell whatever editor or admin to bug off – -only to find himself just ten centimeters away from Lewis’s face. Well, not his face, because he was twelve centimeters taller than Lewis, so there was only air on his eye level, but Lewis was still very close. And there were no cameras in sight. George cautiously peeked around the corners, but none were hiding there either. That was unexpected. Lewis looked rather confused and took a slow step back. “Are you okay?” George sighed and shook his head to himself. “Yes, I just … never mind. What are you doing here?” “I heard about what happened and wanted to check on you.” “Why?” Lewis tilted his head. “Because that’s what people do when they care about someone?” Another sigh escaped George. “You don’t have to do this, you know? There’s no one there. You don’t have to pretend as if you actually like doing all this stuff that we do in order to win this award.

Charles/Pierre

we should just kiss (like real people do) by @chaesonghwas | G | 4.9k Office worker!Charles brings Pierre his childhood bestie as his fake boyfriend to the corporate Christmas party who ends up following him to his family's Christmas party and acts a little bit too much like a real boyfriend, totally shameless about loving him. I loved this!

"YOU'VE BETRAYED ME!" Lorenzo continues, not fully out of his shocked state, "You're making me owe money to Arthur, Charles. Arthur. " "I bet you fuckers wouldn't get together until next year at least, oh my God." "You shouldn't have bet against us." Pierre shoots back, pulling Charles towards his body, who can only stare at him with wide eyes. "You, shut up. You're not my brother-in-law until you pay me back."

show me who made you walk all the way here by @yukierres | M | 36k F1 driver Pierre meets a cute guy at the hotel during the Monaco GP, the said cute guy turns out to be the Prince of Monaco who's trying to come out by having a long term partner. Pierre's trashy ex knows he's gay and is going to sell that info to the press. What 2 better candidates to fake date!

Charles squeaks down the phone. “Pierre,” he scolds. “Arthur is still in the room next door. We are not having phone sex!”

strawberries & cigarettes (always taste like you) by @duquesademiel | M | 21k Influencer Pierre and F1 driver Charles who once fake dated for PR go on a free sponsored vacation together as a couple. Charles making occasional appearances on Pierre's PR posts to boost engagement. Pierre his fake boyfriend on whom he has a very real crush. Both Pierre and Charles take the trip as an opportunity to live the boyfriend experience they think they won't ever be able to have with each other. They both try to show interest while feigning interest at the same time, trying to make the most of the time they're spending together.

Kimi/Seb

Fiancée for Hire by @kimisicecream | T | 27.5k Kimi Räikkönen needs a male fiancé to convince his family that he's really bisexual, Sebastian Vettel's main sponsor for his Formula 3.5 series just dropped him for Lewis last minute and needs to find a sponsor asap otherwise he won't have enough funds to continue racing. Luckily there are companies who are dedicated to find people fake fiancés, through whom Kimi will get a fiancé and Seb will get his money.

“Hm. Let’s see… Candles, my favourite music, Italian food… Are we having that proposal date we made up for the press?” “Maybe.” “I love it.” “We put a lot of thought into that date.” Kimi jokes. “Not bringing it to life would be a missed opportunity.” Seb chuckles. “Yeah and now we don’t have to lie about it anymore!”

#charlos #gewis #maxiel #piarles #simi #landoscar #sewis #lestappen #pairing:charles/pierre #pairing:carlos/lando #pairing:charles/max #pairing:daniel/max #pairing:george/lewis #pairing:lewis/seb #pairing:kimi/seb #pairing:lando/oscar #pairing:carlos/charles #trope:fake dating

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starkwlkr · 11 months ago

Text

mother (no, literally) | f1

I’m so happy you guys are loving this series 🫶🏼 this one has a bit of a time skip lol

part 1 part 2

“Did you hear the news?”

“What news?” Lando asked. It was the first race since coming back from summer break and Lando was excited. He had arrived a bit early so he could eat breakfast with his grid mom, but the mention of ‘news’ stopped him.

“Y/n is out of for the rest of the season. Porsche announced it yesterday.” His PR manager, Charlotte, told him.

“Who’s taking her seat?” He asked.

“Juan Manuel Correa.”

Lando stayed silent. He started to think of the worst possible scenarios. He knew she went to to Mykonos with Charlie for her break since she posted on Instagram and texted him that she got him several gifts. Did something happen on her vacation? He prayed that she was okay.

“Do you know if Adam is in the garage?” Lando asked.

“Yeah, he’s still there.”

And so Lando was off to the Porsche garage in search of their team principal. He definitely had the answers. After greeting the engineers, Lando spotted Adam talking with Juan Manuel Correa.

“Hey, man.” Lando greeted the older man. “Where’s Y/n?.”

Both Adam and Juan Manuel looked at Lando with a sorry look. “Did something happen to her? She didn’t text me anything about leaving Porsche.” Lando wanted the truth.

“She’s not leaving. She’s taking a break and don’t ask me for how long, I have no idea when she’ll be back, but for now we have Juan and I’m sure he’ll do an excellent job. Excuse us, we have to have a short meeting right now. Don’t worry, Lando, she’s not sick or injured. She’s fine, actually she’s more than fine.” Adam squeezed Lando’s shoulder as he passed by to get to his team.

“Do you know something?” Lando asked Juan.

“It’s not my place to tell.” Juan said then excused himself to follow his team principal.

Lando figured that if it was one thing bad then surely someone would tell him. But he received no answers.

TIME SKIP BROUGHT TO YOU BY MARK WEBBER’S DILFNESS

The F1 off season was here and Lando had plans. First, he needed to see his grid mother. It had been months since he last saw her and everytime he tried to make time to go see her, she wasn’t home. He found it odd, but at least she responded back to his messages.

Y/n was in her LA home with Charlie making dinner. She had found several recipes she wanted to try out. Her belly had grown, obviously, and she couldn’t hide it anymore. When she went out with Charlie, she would wear baggy clothes, but now those same baggy clothes couldn’t hide her bump.

“I’ve been thinking.” Y/n mentioned, grabbing a chocolate covered strawberry and eating it. “We never talked about godparents. Do you have anyone in mind?”

“I assumed Lando would be the obvious choice even if he doesn’t know about the baby.” Charlie replied, grabbing a strawberry and eating it.

“He was my first choice the second I found out. But I thought that you would choose one of your friends or costars from sons of anarchy.” Y/n stood up from her chair to check on the mac and cheese in the oven.

“If you think Lando should be our baby’s godfather then he should. He’s a great kid, babe. He’s technically your first kid.” Charlie teased.

“I miss my grid kids.”

The doorbell had rung meaning Lando had arrived. It was Charlie’s idea to have dinner with Lando to tell him the news. Well . . Once he noticed the big baby bump on Y/n, he would get an idea. While Charlie went to answer the door, Y/n got the mac and cheese out the oven.

Lando had gotten used to being around Charlie. Sure, he was a bit skeptical at first, but once he got to know the man, he knew that Charlie was the one for his grid mom.

“Hey, mate. How was your flight?” Charlie greeted Lando once he opened the door.

“Same as all the others. How are you and the missus?” Lando asked, bringing in his suitcase since he was going to stay with Y/n and Charlie for a couple of days.

“We’re great. Y/n was counting down the days until you got here. She’s in the kitchen. Babe? Lando’s here.” Charlie announced as him and Lando walked towards the kitchen.

The younger driver was stunned when he saw how much Y/n had changed. It it wasn’t a bad change, it was the best change. She smiled at Lando and walked to him to give him a hug.

“You’re pregnant! That’s amazing! Oh my god, you’re going to be an actual mum!” Lando gasped. “Is this why you’ve been hiding?”

“Pretty much. I didn’t want to make my pregnancy public until the birth. I wanted to make sure everything was okay. But it’s more than okay. Baby Hunnam is healthy and growing so fast.” Y/n explained.

“I’m happy for you. Wow, you’re going to be a mum.” He said it as if he couldn’t believe it. “Congratulations to both of you. Do you know the gender yet?”

“We decided to keep it a secret until the birth.” Charlie added.

“Well I think one thing is certain. Baby Hunnam is going to have a lot of overprotective uncles when they make their paddock debut.”

#formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #f1 driver!reader #lando norris #lewis hamilton #charles leclerc #carlos sainz jr #george russell #oscar piastri #logan sargeant #mick schumacher #alex albon

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velocesainz · 3 months ago

Note

hi please could i make an order!!

Charles Leclerc

Hoodie: I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I didn't tell you

Leggings: How did I get so lucky

Puff sleeve: That's such a good fucking girl

Scarf: Friends to lovers

A/n: hey lovely, thank you so much for your order! Hope you’ve been enjoying enjoy :)

I Wanna be your lover

F1 masterlist | Main masterlist |

Summary: Charles and readers are good friends and also work together. Seeing reader close with another driver he feels the need to urgently express his feelings.

Pairing: Charles leclerc x reader; platonic!George Russel x reader

Warnings: tiny bit of angst, smut, mdni

Order receipt:

Hoodie: I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I didn't tell you

Leggings: How did I get so lucky

Puff sleeve: That's such a good fucking girl

Scarf: Friends to lovers

Charles pov:

Me and y/n have been friends for a few years now, ever since we met eachother during f2.

I’ve liked her for the same amount of time as I’ve known her and although it started off as a small crush has become a huge longing for her.

Her smile can light up the whole room. Her eyes filled with determination when she drives are mesmerising.

I was walking with my press officer going over my schedule for the day when I heard her angelic laugh.

I turned to find her bending over laughing with George Russel

Now everyone loves George. Who could not?

Watching her laugh like a maniac made insecure. What if she liked George? What if am not funny enough or good enough for her.

All these thoughts clouded my mind but were broken when my press officer snapped his fingers in front of my face

“Are you listening Charles?”

“Uh sorry I got uhm distracted”

“I can tell. You have some free time now, you can go talk to her. Maybe tell her how you feel”

I stared at him. Was it really that obvious to everyone?

“Yes. You’re constantly making heart eyes at her”

Shit I said that out loud

I walked up to her and George greeting them

“Hey guys!”

“Oh hey Charlie!” “Hey Charles!”

“How’s it going? What are you guys cackling about?”

“Oh it was literally so silly I tell you!”

“So this diva over here was complaining about the fact that’s he’s fucking lonely and needs a girlfriend.”

“And you know what this woman suggests? Her! Like tf? Bitch I am not dating your ass”

With that they both burst into a fit of giggles.

Hearing George say that she suggested that George date her made my heart sink down to my stomach

I couldn’t bear standing around her for much longer so I just left giving them some lame excuse

Reader pov:

I watched Charles hurriedly run away after George told him what we were talking about.

I felt upset that he left

I’ve liked him for a while and thought the feelings were reciprocated but with recent events I don’t think that’s the case anymore

“What’s up with him?”

“Ah the lads jealous. He didn’t think you were joking when you told me to date you to be less lonely”

Huh? Jealous?

“ I mean I’m not surprised. He will believe everything you say blindly, he’ll even jump off a bloody bridge if you told him to. He’s way too in love you”

“Are you sure about that?”

“I’m positive y/n. I’m really surprised you hadn’t noticed yet”

With that we both went our separate ways to prepare for the race

Time skip:

The race was over and I had finished p2 after my teammate max and above George in p3

Elated during the podium ceremony me and George hugged eachother

“You certainly are looking extra bright today? Is it because I’m on the podium with you this time?” George teased

I just shrugged and gave him a kiss on the cheek

“Maybe? It’s about time I shared about podium with you mate”

With that the champagne spraying began and me and max were determined to completely cover George in our champagne as it was one of the few times his tractor of a Mercedes made podium

After the ceremony and all the interviews I was in my drivers room getting changed and taking a shower planning to head out for a team celebration at some nightclub

I was putting on make up when I heard a knock on my door

I went to open it and saw Charles

“Hey”

“Hey, come in”

He sat himself down on my couch, constantly fidgeting with his hands which I knew was a nervous habit of his

“What wrong Charlie? You seem nervous”

“Uh-I uh” he stuttered seemingly trying to find words

“You don’t have to be scared. I won’t ever judge you”

I prayed it was nothing about him getting a girlfriend because he’d had a few of those and piecing his heart together after the nasty breakups were getting too much for me

He stood up and walked closer to me.

“I-I like you y/n. A lot. I’ve liked for many years now and I know you’re with George but I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t tell you”

I was stunned at his confession. My brain was screaming at me to say something back but my body was frozen is shock and glee.

He seemed to have taken my silence as a rejection as he began to sadly walk away when I grabbed him by his collar and kissed him

He pulled away first

“What about George? Aren’t you with him?”

I looked at him confused

When were me and George ever a thing?

“I never liked him or dated him Charlie. It’s always been you”

With that he kissed me hard, passion radiating from both our bodies

He took my over to my couch and laid me down on it beginning to take off my clothes

“God you’re so beautiful how did I get so lucky?”

He kissed my neck leaving little love notes all over it

He took off his shirt and pants leaving him in his boxers revealing the raging bone he had

He took off his boxers while I got on my knees

I took his angry red tip in my mouth and started sucking him off

Groans and grunts left his mouth uncontrollably

“Mmph fuck your mouth is so good and you such me off so well baby. Such a good fucking girl

As I felt him twitch in my mouth ready to cum he pulled me off of his cock

I whined at the loss of cock in my mouth and looked at him confused

“I want to cum in you baby”

With that he aligned his cock with my pussy and in one powerful thrust inserted himself into me causing us both to let out loud moans of pleasure

He started fucking me hard and fast, his pace ungodly

Soon we were both approaching our highs as Charles’s thrusts started to turn sloppy

“Agh I’m gonna cum!”

“Me too baby”

With one final thrust he came inside my pussy ass I came around his cock

We both laid on the couch next to eachother, exhausted

“I love you so much”

“I love you too but we should probably get out of here the paddock’s going to close soon”

With that we both got dressed and walked out of the paddock hand in hand

A/n: Hey lovelies! Hope you enjoy the fic, I apologise for taking so long to post. I’ve just not been in the right headspace. But everyday’s a new day and more fics are upcoming. Also I will be discontinuing my Taglist as it doesn’t really seem to be very active. As always leave your feedback Kissies ✨

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niallerspayno · 2 months ago

Text

Troublemaker (Liam Payne x reader) - Fic Request

Masterlist

Anonymous request: Can you do a Liam one. I have no preference on the context of the fic, I just want something to read since I miss him a lot

You're the sixth member of One Direction, known for your mischievous streak and playful banter, especially when teaming up with Louis to cause chaos. It’s everything Liam, the ever-responsible "Daddy Direction," claims to dread—but maybe it’s exactly what he’s been dreaming of. After all, opposites have a way of attracting in the most unexpected ways.

Tags: Liam x reader, slight angst, fluff at the end, kinda enemies/friends to lovers

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

...

You dart down the narrow backstage hallway, laughing so hard your stomach aches. “You’ll never catch me, Lou!” you shout over your shoulder, your voice echoing against the walls. Louis is hot on your heels, equally breathless but determined, the kind of grin that spells trouble plastered across his face.

“Tag, you’re it!” he yells, lunging and narrowly missing your arm as you twist around a corner.

It’s chaos, pure and simple, but that’s nothing new for you and Louis. From the moment you became the sixth member of One Direction, you two have been inseparable partners in mischief. You’re the spark to his fire, the chaos to his carefully planned pranks. It drives Liam absolutely mad.

Speaking of Liam—

“Will you two stop it already?” His exasperated voice cuts through the commotion like a school teacher trying to control a class of rowdy kids. He’s standing near the catering table, arms crossed, jaw tight. His “Daddy Directioner” energy is in full swing, but you can tell he’s trying not to blow up entirely. There’s a show to put on in less than an hour, and the two of you are treating it like recess.

Niall is doubled over in laughter, barely managing to sip his tea. “This is the best pre-show entertainment ever,” he wheezes, while Harry leans against the wall, egging Louis on with shouts of, “Go on, mate, you’ve got her this time!”

Zayn, cool as ever, leans back in his chair with a smirk, his eyes flicking between you and Louis like he’s watching a live-action sitcom.

“Liam, you should join in,” you tease, shooting him a cheeky grin as you duck behind a rack of costumes. You don’t miss the way his jaw tightens even further. “Might loosen you up a bit.”

“Some of us have responsibilities,” he snaps, stalking toward you. “Unlike certain people who seem determined to injure themselves before we’ve even stepped on stage.”

Louis appears out of nowhere, lunging again and narrowly missing you. “Come on, Liam, live a little!” he calls out, dodging around a stagehand who’s clearly given up on questioning your antics.

“Absolutely not,” Liam replies, his tone firm. But the faintest hint of a smile pulls at the corners of his mouth, and you know you’ve got him exactly where you want him.

This is your life—touring with the five boys who’ve become your family, bringing chaos wherever you go, and somehow always dragging Liam along for the ride.

Louis slides to a stop next to you, both of you breathless but grinning like maniacs. “She’s too quick for you, Liam!” he teases, resting his hands on his knees. “Face it, mate, you’ve got no chance.”

Liam’s glare sharpens as he adjusts his hat—his signature hat. “I wouldn’t have to chase anyone if you two could just act like adults for once.”

You gasp, feigning offense. “Act like adults? Where’s the fun in that?”

Niall, perched on the arm of a nearby couch, nearly chokes on his tea from laughing so hard. “Liam, mate, just give up now. You’re never gonna win.”

Harry, sprawled out on the couch like royalty, smirks. “I dunno, I think he’s got a shot if he actually tries. Though…” His eyes flick to you and Louis, full of amusement. “They’re on fire today.”

Zayn chuckles quietly from his chair, watching the chaos unfold like a front-row spectator at his favorite show.

You lean toward Louis, speaking just loud enough for Liam to hear. “Hey, Lou. You thinking what I’m thinking?”

Louis’s grin turns downright wicked. “Oh, definitely.”

“Don’t even start,” Liam warns, already stepping back like he knows what’s coming.

Too late. You spring forward, making a grab for Liam’s hat. He’s quick, ducking out of your reach, but Louis darts in from the side and plucks it clean off his head.

“Got it!” Louis shouts, holding the hat high like a trophy as he takes off running.

“Louis!” Liam roars, chasing after him.

You laugh, cutting around Liam to intercept. Louis tosses the hat to you mid-run, and you catch it with ease, holding it above your head as you twirl away from Liam’s grasp. “Come and get it, Payno!” you tease, dancing just out of reach.

“Give it back!” Liam’s tone is firm, but the faint smile tugging at his lips gives him away. He’s trying to stay mad, but you know he secretly loves the chaos—at least a little bit.

“Not a chance,” you call, dodging behind Niall, who nearly spills his tea again.

“Careful, Liam!” Harry shouts, his laughter ringing out. “You might actually break a sweat before the show starts!”

Liam lunges for you again, but you’re too quick, darting around a stack of equipment cases. Just when you think you’re safe, a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you back against a solid chest.

“Gotcha,” Liam murmurs, his breath warm against your ear.

Your laugh catches in your throat as you glance up at him, your heart skipping a beat at the triumphant glint in his eyes. “Well, this is a nice surprise,” you say, tilting your head with a teasing smile.

“Hand it over,” he demands, his grip firm but not unpleasant.

“Or what?” you challenge, your tone dripping with mock innocence. “You gonna keep holding me like this? Because I don’t mind.”

You feel him stiffen slightly, his cheeks turning pink as he tries to maintain his stern demeanor. “Don’t test me,” he mutters, though his voice wavers just enough to betray him.

Louis, watching from a safe distance, bursts into laughter. “Liam, you’re supposed to scare her, not flirt back!”

“I’m not flirting!” Liam snaps, his arms still securely around you.

You laugh, leaning back against him. “No, but you’re definitely blushing.”

That earns a chorus of laughter from the rest of the boys, and Liam groans, finally releasing you. He snatches the hat out of your hand, jamming it back onto his head with a huff.

“You’re impossible,” he mutters, glaring at you as you flash him a triumphant grin.

“But you love it,” you reply, your voice light and teasing.

Liam doesn’t answer, but the slight curve of his lips as he turns away is all the confirmation you need.

…

The crowd is electric, thousands of fans screaming as the lights dim for the next song. You stand near Louis on stage, buzzing with energy, your mic in hand as you wave to the audience.

Beside you, Louis nudges your shoulder, leaning close so only you can hear. “What do you reckon? Should we shake things up a bit?”

You glance at him, a mischievous smile creeping across your face. “Always.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you spot Liam on the other side of the stage, chatting with Harry as he adjusts his mic stand. His focus is elsewhere, which is exactly what you need.

Louis crouches down and grabs two water bottles from the edge of the stage, handing one to you. “You ready?” he asks, barely able to contain his laughter.

“Born ready,” you reply, uncapping the bottle.

The timing is perfect. Just as Liam takes a step toward center stage, you and Louis simultaneously aim and squeeze, sending streams of water straight at him.

The crowd erupts in cheers and laughter as Liam freezes in shock, water dripping from his hair and down his shirt. He stares at you both, wide-eyed, before holding up a hand to stop the music.

“Really?” he says into his mic, his tone caught between disbelief and amusement. “During the show?”

You shrug innocently, holding the water bottle behind your back. “Couldn’t resist,” you say, batting your lashes.

Louis, of course, doubles down. “You looked like you needed cooling off, mate!”

Liam shakes his head, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Alright, you asked for it.” He bends down, grabbing his own water bottle.

Before you can react, he retaliates, squeezing a jet of water straight at you. You yelp, dodging behind Louis, who immediately uses you as a human shield.

“Traitor!” you shout, laughing as Liam continues his attack.

“Serves you right!” Liam calls back, aiming another stream of water that narrowly misses you.

Harry and Niall are no help at all, both doubled over with laughter on the other side of the stage. “This is the best show ever!” Niall manages to choke out.

Zayn, cool and collected as always, steps back to avoid the chaos entirely, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Leave me out of it.”

Dodging another spray, you duck behind an equipment case, only for Liam to corner you, his water bottle raised and a triumphant grin on his face. “Nowhere to run,” he says, his voice low enough that only you can hear.

You tilt your head, deliberately stepping closer until the water bottle is inches from your chest. “Oh no, Liam,” you purr, your voice playful. “What ever will I do? Guess I’m at your mercy now.”

His confident smile falters for just a second, and you swear you see a faint blush creep up his neck. “Don’t think you can sweet-talk your way out of this,” he says, though his voice wavers slightly.

You smirk, taking another step forward, and suddenly his bottle is no longer pointed at you but at the floor. “Sweet-talk? Me? Never.”

“Give her what she deserves, Liam!” Louis yells from across the stage, breaking the moment.

Liam blinks, clearly remembering the crowd, and his grin returns. “Alright, fine,” he says, and before you can react, he squeezes the bottle, soaking you from head to toe.

The crowd erupts in laughter and cheers as you stand there, water dripping down your face. You push your hair back dramatically, blinking at him. “Guess I had that coming,” you say, biting your lip as you hold his gaze.

“Definitely,” he replies, his voice softer now.

When you step closer, you hear the audience collectively lose their minds. Reaching out, you grab the brim of his hat and yank it off his head. “You missed a spot,” you tease, swiping the hat across your dripping hair before plopping it onto your own head.

Liam’s jaw drops, and the boys are no help, laughing harder than ever. “Give me that back!” he says, but there’s no real force in his voice.

“You want it?” you ask, taking a few slow steps backward. “Come and get it, Payne.”

The crowd is screaming now as Liam closes the distance between you in a few long strides. Before you know it, he’s wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you clear off the ground.

“Gotcha again,” he murmurs into your ear, his breath warm and teasing.

You laugh, squirming in his grasp. “This feels a little personal for a hat,” you quip, leaning your head back so you can see his face.

“It’s not just a hat,” he replies, his voice dropping slightly. “It’s my hat.”

You smirk. “And I wear it better.”

For a moment, you swear he forgets the crowd, his eyes locked on yours. The spell only breaks when Louis sprays you both with another jet of water, shouting, “Oi, lovebirds, this is a group effort!”

The laughter starts up again, and Liam finally sets you down, shaking his head with a laugh. “Unbelievable,” he mutters, but there’s no hiding the grin on his face—or the way he’s still looking at you as you slip his hat back onto his head with a wink.

…

The bus hums quietly as it rolls down the dark highway, the post-show adrenaline finally beginning to fade. You’re sprawled out on the couch, legs draped over Louis’s lap as he flicks through his phone, laughing at memes. Harry’s lying upside down in a recliner, his hair hanging toward the floor, while Niall plucks at his guitar, softly strumming the tune of a familiar melody. Zayn’s tucked in a corner with his sketchpad, headphones on but one earbud hanging loose, still listening to the group’s banter.

And then there’s Liam—perched across from you in one of the booths, arms crossed, his hat slightly askew from all the chaos earlier. He’s watching you with that same mix of exasperation and amusement he always has, his gaze lingering just long enough for you to notice.

Finally, he leans forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “Alright,” he says, his voice cutting through the comfortable chatter. “I’ve got to ask—why do you act like that?”

The room quiets slightly, all eyes turning to you. You raise a brow, feigning innocence. “Like what?”

“You know what I mean,” he replies, his tone light but genuinely curious. “The pranks, the teasing, the constant chaos—what’s the deal? Are you trying to drive me insane?”

Louis snorts. “It’s a full-time job, mate.”

“I’m serious!” Liam insists, though he’s smiling now. “You’re relentless. Why?”

You shrug, sitting up and resting your chin on your hand. “Honestly? Because it’s fun.”

Liam groans, but you cut him off before he can respond. “No, really. Think about it—how many people get to do what we’re doing right now? Touring the world, performing for thousands of fans, living the dream? It’s insane.”

You gesture around the bus, your smile softening. “We’ve got the opportunity of a lifetime, Liam. Why not make the most of it? Why not have fun while we’re at it?”

Harry hums in agreement from his upside-down position. “She’s got a point.”

“And I like seeing you all riled up,” you add with a smirk, locking eyes with Liam. “You’re cute when you’re frustrated.”

The group erupts in laughter, Louis clapping his hands together. “I’ve been saying that for years!”

Liam groans again, but the faint blush creeping up his neck betrays him. “You’re impossible,” he mutters, shaking his head.

“Impossibly charming,” you correct, leaning back with a grin.

“She’s not wrong,” Niall chimes in, strumming a playful chord on his guitar.

Zayn finally looks up from his sketchpad, a faint smirk on his lips. “She’s definitely got you figured out, mate.”

“Yeah, she does,” Harry agrees, flipping upright in his chair. “What I want to know is, why do you let her get to you so much?”

That earns a round of teasing “oohs” from the group, and Liam sighs, running a hand down his face. “I don’t let her get to me.”

“You totally do,” Louis says, grinning. “It’s like watching a rom-com in real life.”

“More like a sitcom,” Niall adds, laughing.

Liam looks at you then, his gaze softer now. “You’re not gonna stop, are you?”

“Not a chance,” you reply, your voice low enough that the others barely hear. “But admit it—you’d miss it if I did.”

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything, just holds your gaze like he’s trying to figure you out. Then, finally, he sighs and leans back in his seat, a small smile playing on his lips. “You’re lucky I’m a patient man.”

“And you’re lucky I make life interesting,” you shoot back, your grin widening.

The group dissolves into laughter again, and the conversation shifts to lighter topics. But as the night wears on, you catch Liam sneaking glances at you, that same unreadable expression in his eyes. Maybe he’s finally starting to understand why you do what you do—or maybe he’s realizing he doesn’t mind it as much as he pretends to.

…

The next day’s rehearsal starts out relatively normal, but as usual, normal doesn’t last long when you’re around.

You and Louis, of course, are up to your usual tricks, looking for ways to make the most of your time backstage while the rest of the band is getting ready. You spot a cart full of stage props and equipment, just begging for some creative intervention.

Louis catches your eye and grins. “What do you reckon? Time to have a little fun?”

You laugh, already knowing what he’s thinking. “Absolutely.”

Within minutes, you’ve hijacked the cart, grabbing a few random props—a feather duster, a fake mustache, and a plastic horn—and begin marching around like a pair of lunatics, causing a ruckus. You sneak up on Harry, who’s sitting on the couch, earphones in, oblivious to the chaos brewing.

With one swift motion, you sneak the mustache over his face. He pulls it off, confused, but by that point, you’ve moved on to spraying Niall’s guitar with some random glitter you found in one of the boxes.

The group starts to take notice, but Liam’s the last one to figure it out. You see him across the room, still in his own world, checking his phone, blissfully unaware.

You lock eyes with Louis and give a wicked grin. “It’s time.”

You both sprint across the room, sidling up behind Liam before either he or the others have a chance to react.

Louis, ever the troublemaker, snatches Liam’s phone from his hand and tosses it to you, while you immediately start scanning through his texts.

“What are you doing?” Liam demands, his voice rising in mock horror.

“Just making sure you’re not texting anyone you shouldn’t be,” you tease, winking at him as you skim through his messages.

Liam’s face goes red. “Give it back, you little menace.”

“Oh, come on,” you laugh, holding the phone up high to tease him. “Not even a little bit curious about who you’ve been talking to, Liam?”

He jumps to his feet, reaching for his phone, but you just dance out of reach, holding it over your head like it’s some prize you’re unwilling to relinquish.

“You really want it back?” you ask, batting your lashes. “Make me.”

The others are watching, some of them laughing, others shaking their heads at the chaos you and Louis always manage to create. But Liam’s patience is wearing thin.

Before you can react, Liam moves with lightning speed, grabbing your wrist and pulling you toward him. You stumble into his chest, and before you know it, his other arm is around your waist, holding you in place as he leans down, his face inches from yours.

“Alright, that’s it,” he says softly, his voice low and surprisingly serious. “Give. Me. The. Phone.”

You smirk, all flirty charm. “Make me.”

Without warning, Liam bends down and nips at your ear, sending a jolt of surprise through you. “Give. It. Back.”

The sudden proximity sends a wave of heat through you, and for a moment, you forget about the phone, forgetting everything except the way his breath brushes against your skin. You giggle, breathlessly, trying to pull away, but his hold is firm.

“Liam,” you tease, squirming in his arms. “This is unfair.”

“Nothing about this is fair,” he replies, his voice taking on that familiar teasing tone you’re starting to enjoy more than you care to admit.

Finally, you relent, handing the phone back to him with a playful pout. “You’re no fun.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Liam’s smile is small, but there’s something in his eyes as he looks at you that makes your heart skip a beat. “You’ve got to stop this, you know that?”

You grin, leaning in a little closer. “Stop having fun? Not a chance.”

Louis calls out from the other side of the room, breaking the moment. “Oi, are you two done flirting, or are we getting on with this rehearsal?”

Liam rolls his eyes, letting you go and moving back to his position on stage, still shaking his head with a small smile on his lips.

As you slip into your place alongside the others, you can’t help but sneak a glance at Liam, his focus now back on the setlist. But something feels different—like that unspoken tension between you is building more and more every day.

…

The night’s tour stop is in a city you’ve all been to a hundred times before, but this time, things are different. The hotel’s cozy, nothing too extravagant, but as always, the chaos of touring catches up to everyone. The band’s been laughing and messing around all day, the usual energy never quite fading.

But now, it’s time to get some rest, and the hotel room arrangement is… less than ideal.

“Alright,” Louis says, holding up his keycard with a grin. “I dibs Harry.”

Harry rolls his eyes but doesn’t protest, already heading toward the door.

Niall, barely able to suppress his smile, turns to Zayn. “I’m cool with sharing, mate.”

Zayn gives him a half-nod, half-shrug, and that’s that. They head off to their room, leaving you standing with Liam.

For a brief moment, you both look at each other. The realization hits you at the same time.

“Well, guess it’s us,” you say, trying to keep your voice casual, though the thought of being alone with Liam makes your heart race in a way you hadn’t expected.

Liam seems to hesitate before nodding. “Guess so.”

The two of you walk to your room, and it’s quiet, the tension thick in the air. You’ve been causing chaos for so long that the idea of being stuck with Liam—alone—feels different.

The room’s small, but you’ve seen worse. There’s one bed, and both of you pause at the sight of it.

“You’re not gonna make me sleep on the floor, are you?” you joke, trying to ease the tension.

Liam’s eyes flick to the bed, then back to you, his face impassive. “I’m not making you do anything,” he mutters, almost under his breath, and you can’t help but notice the edge to his tone.

The silence stretches out longer than either of you expected, and you decide to break it. “What’s with you, Liam?”

He looks at you, a frown creasing his brow. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve been acting differently today,” you say, sitting on the bed, your tone lighter but still probing. “You’re… distant. You weren’t even messing around during rehearsal like you usually do.”

Liam exhales sharply and sits down beside you. “I guess I just don’t get it, sometimes.”

You raise an eyebrow, still watching him closely. “Don’t get what?”

He looks over at you, his expression suddenly more serious. “You. I don’t get how you can just… act like everything’s a joke. The pranks, the flirting, all of it. You’re always on the go, never slowing down, never thinking about what’s coming next.”

Your smile fades, and you sit up straighter. “You think I’m reckless?”

Liam runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. Maybe. Sometimes. I just… I worry about you.”

You blink in surprise. “Worry about me?”

“Yeah,” he continues, his voice quiet but steady. “You throw yourself into everything without a second thought, and I can’t help but think one of these days you’re gonna end up in trouble—really in trouble. And I won’t be there to stop it.”

You stare at him for a moment, surprised by his vulnerability, by the genuine concern behind his words. It’s not what you expected from him at all.

“I don’t need saving, Liam,” you finally say, your voice soft but firm. “I know what I’m doing.”

He looks at you, and there’s a long pause before he speaks again. “I don’t want you to get hurt. I know I don’t always show it, but I care. You’re… you’re a part of this band, part of my family. I can’t stand the thought of losing you.”

You feel something twist in your chest at his words, a flutter of something you can’t quite explain. It’s not just the concern in his eyes, but the unspoken care that’s always been there, even when he’s trying to keep you in line.

“You don’t have to worry about me,” you say, a little more quietly this time. “I know how to have fun, but I’m not stupid.”

Liam looks at you for a long moment, his gaze softening. “I just don’t want to see you fall, that’s all.”

You smile, this time more gently than before. “I won’t fall, Liam. Not if you’re around to catch me.”

For a moment, there’s a silence between you two that feels different. It’s not awkward, not heavy—it’s almost like you’re both seeing each other in a new light, understanding one another a little better than before.

Liam glances away, clearing his throat. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

You laugh, but it’s quieter, softer than usual. “Yeah, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He meets your eyes again, and for a split second, it feels like there’s more being said than either of you can put into words. But then, as always, the moment breaks, and Liam leans back with a sigh.

“Alright, enough of the deep talk. I’m going to bed,” he mutters, lying down on the opposite side of the bed, clearly still trying to maintain some semblance of order.

You smile to yourself, feeling the soft shift in the air. Maybe this forced proximity wasn’t so bad after all.

…

You wake up slowly, the soft morning light filtering through the thin curtains. The first thing you notice is warmth—a solid, steady warmth pressed against your back. Your head is nestled on someone’s chest, and their arm is draped snugly around your waist.

It takes you a moment to realize who it is, but the steady rise and fall of their breathing, combined with the faint scent of Liam’s cologne, gives it away.

Your eyes snap open. Oh.

You try to turn your head slightly, and sure enough, there’s Liam, still fast asleep, his face relaxed in a way you rarely see when he’s awake. His hair’s a little mussed, and his hand… is very securely around your waist.

For a moment, you consider shifting away, but then he stirs. His arm tightens slightly before he blinks awake, his eyes bleary with sleep as they meet yours.

You can practically see the realization hit him like a freight train. His eyes widen, and he pulls his arm back as if he’s been burned, sitting up so fast he nearly tumbles off the bed.

“Uh—morning,” he says, his voice rough from sleep, his cheeks quickly turning crimson.

You sit up as well, leaning on one elbow and giving him your best teasing grin. “Morning, snuggle bug.”

Liam groans, running a hand down his face. “Don’t start.”

“Oh, come on,” you say, sitting up fully and stretching. “Admit it—you liked it.”

“I didn’t,” he says quickly, a little too quickly, avoiding your gaze.

You smirk, leaning in slightly. “You sure about that? You were holding on pretty tight.”

Liam’s blush deepens, and he mutters something under his breath that you can’t quite catch.

Before you can tease him further, the door bursts open, and Louis strides in, his grin widening as he takes in the scene.

“Well, well, well,” Louis says, leaning against the doorframe. “Look who’s all cozy this morning.”

“Louis—” Liam starts, but Louis cuts him off with a dramatic gasp.

“Were you two… cuddling?” Louis’s eyes dart between the two of you, the gleeful expression on his face making it clear he’s not letting this go anytime soon.

“It’s not what it looks like,” Liam insists, his tone defensive, though the blush creeping up his neck tells a different story.

“Sure it’s not,” Louis says, smirking. “Sleeping with the enemy now, are we?”

You laugh, unbothered, and throw an arm around Liam’s shoulders. “Don’t be jealous, Lou. There’s plenty of me to go around.”

Liam shrugs your arm off, still looking mortified. “Louis, seriously, it wasn’t—”

“Oh, don’t explain yourself to me,” Louis interrupts, already backing out of the room. “I’m just the messenger. Wait till the others hear about this.”

“Louis!” Liam calls after him, but it’s no use. The door slams shut, leaving the two of you alone again.

You glance at Liam, who’s now burying his face in his hands. “Well, that’s one way to start the morning.”

“This is a nightmare,” he mutters, his voice muffled.

You grin, nudging his arm. “Relax, Liam. It’s not the end of the world. Besides…” You lower your voice, leaning in just enough to make him look at you. “I didn’t mind.”

His eyes meet yours, and for a second, you think you catch something—something soft, something real. But then he shakes his head, standing up quickly and heading for his bag.

“Let’s just get ready for breakfast,” he says, his back to you.

You watch him for a moment, your smile lingering as you get up to follow. Maybe you pushed him a little too far, but you can’t help but notice the way his ears are still red as he rummages through his things.

And if you’re being honest? You didn’t mind it, either.

…

The teasing starts before breakfast.

You’re barely halfway through your toast when Niall pipes up. “So, how’d you two sleep last night?” he asks, his voice innocent but his grin anything but.

Harry snickers into his coffee. “Yeah, Liam, you looked so well-rested this morning.”

Louis, of course, takes it a step further. “Can’t blame him! Snuggling with her would tire anyone out. She’s like an octopus—arms everywhere.”

You laugh, unbothered, as you pop a piece of bacon in your mouth. “Jealous, Lou? Don’t worry; you’ll get your turn.”

The table erupts into laughter, even Zayn cracking a rare smile. But Liam just sits there, his face buried in his hands, muttering something that sounds suspiciously like, “This is my nightmare.”

The teasing doesn’t let up during rehearsals, either. Every time you and Liam so much as glance at each other, Louis makes some exaggerated comment about “chemistry” or “true love,” and Niall keeps humming wedding march music under his breath.

You take it all in stride, laughing along and even throwing in a few playful winks in Liam’s direction, but he’s visibly flustered, avoiding eye contact with you and muttering under his breath every chance he gets.

Eventually, the rehearsal breaks for a moment, and you take the chance to grab some water. As you’re about to head back to the stage, you catch sight of Liam standing with Zayn and Harry in the corner. Their voices are low, but there’s something about Liam’s posture—his arms crossed, his head down—that makes you pause.

You shouldn’t eavesdrop. You know that. But curiosity gets the better of you.

“I just don’t know what to do, mate,” Liam’s voice drifts over, quiet and uncertain. “She’s… she’s everything. Always has been. But what if—what if it’s all just an act?”

Harry’s voice comes next, soft and encouraging. “You mean the flirting?”

“Yeah,” Liam says, sighing. “I mean, she’s like that with everyone, isn’t she? Always teasing, always joking. What if it doesn’t mean anything? What if I tell her how I feel, and she laughs it off? Or worse, pushes me away?”

Zayn chimes in, his voice calm and steady. “You’ll never know unless you tell her. But, Liam, man, I don’t think it’s an act. The way she looks at you? That’s not just flirting. That’s something real.”

Liam doesn’t respond right away, and the silence feels heavy.

“I’ve been in love with her for years,” he finally admits, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I can’t lose her. I’d rather keep her at arm’s length than risk losing her completely.”

Your heart twists at his words. For all your teasing and chaos, you never imagined Liam felt this way. And the way he talks about you—with so much care, so much fear—makes your chest ache.

You step back quietly, slipping away before they notice you. Your mind is racing, but one thing is clear: this changes everything.

…

It’s been a week since you overheard Liam’s heart-to-heart with Zayn and Harry, and it’s like a switch has flipped.

You’ve always known Liam as the responsible one—the one who fusses over everyone, makes sure the schedules are followed, and keeps chaos to a minimum. But now you’re noticing the little things he does just for you.

He always checks if you’ve eaten before rehearsals, even when he doesn’t ask the others. He hands you his hoodie when the green room is too cold, no hesitation, even if he’s left shivering in a T-shirt. When Louis dragged you into a pillow fight last night, it was Liam who stopped you both—not because he was annoyed, but because you’d almost knocked over a lamp.

He doesn’t just care. He cares about you.

You’ve spent the last week watching him more closely, testing the theory. And every time he softens in your direction, every time his voice gentles when he talks to you, your chest tightens a little more.

But, true to form, you bury the feelings under a smirk and a wink. You’d rather tease him than admit how much those little gestures mean to you.

Which is exactly what leads to today’s trouble.

You and Louis are in full chaos mode—again. It started harmlessly enough, with Louis daring you to balance as many unopened water bottles on your arms as you could. When that got boring, he upped the ante: “Bet you can’t juggle them!”

That was a disaster, obviously, but now you’ve moved on to Louis’s latest bright idea: seeing who can climb higher on the scaffolding at the back of the stage.

“Careful up there!” Harry calls from below, his voice carrying a mix of amusement and exasperation.

“Don’t worry about us, Harold!” Louis shouts back, grinning as he grabs hold of a higher bar. “We’re professionals.”

You roll your eyes, laughing as you climb after him. The adrenaline rush is half the fun, though you know Liam’s probably going to kill you both when he finds out.

“Come on, slowpoke!” Louis taunts, glancing down at you.

“Keep talking, Tomlinson,” you shoot back, pulling yourself up another rung. “I’ll pass you in no time.”

But the next step you take feels off. The metal bar under your foot shifts slightly, and before you can react, it slips completely. Your heart lurches as your grip loosens, and you feel yourself falling.

The world tilts, and then everything stops with a painful thud as you land on the stage floor below.

The air is knocked out of your lungs, and for a moment, all you can do is lie there, stunned. You hear shouts—Louis’s panicked voice, Niall’s gasp—but it’s Liam’s footsteps you hear first, pounding across the stage like he’s sprinting for his life.

“Are you okay?!” he demands, dropping to his knees beside you. His hands hover over you, like he wants to touch but doesn’t know where it’s safe.

“I’m fine,” you croak, though the sharp pain in your ankle tells a different story.

“You’re not fine,” he snaps, his tone harsher than you’ve ever heard it. But his hands are gentle as he carefully checks your ankle, his jaw tightening when you wince.

The others gather around, their faces a mix of worry and guilt. Louis looks the most shaken, his usual grin replaced with a pale, wide-eyed stare.

“Liam, I didn’t think—” Louis starts, but Liam cuts him off.

“Not now, Louis,” he says firmly. “Go get the medic.”

Louis nods and takes off, leaving Liam to focus on you.

“You could’ve broken something,” he mutters, his voice trembling slightly.

You manage a weak smile. “Guess I’m not as professional as I thought.”

“Don’t joke about this,” he says, finally meeting your eyes. There’s something raw in his expression—fear, anger, and something deeper you can’t quite name. “You scared me.”

And just like that, the teasing is gone. For the first time, you’re not thinking about how to make him blush or stammer. All you can think about is how much he cares—and how much you’ve been trying to ignore how much you care, too.

…

The medic confirms it’s just a sprained ankle, but you’re pretty sure Liam would’ve reacted the same if you’d broken every bone in your body.

“You need to keep weight off it for a while,” the medic says. “Ice it, elevate it, and try to rest.”

“Rest,” Liam repeats, nodding like it’s a direct order from the Queen herself. “Got it. She’ll rest.”

The medic gives him an odd look, then glances at you. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Thanks,” you mumble, wincing as Liam adjusts the pillow under your leg for the hundredth time.

“Does it still hurt?” he asks immediately, his brow furrowing.

“Not as much as your fussing,” you tease, though the warmth in your voice takes the sting out of it.

Before he can argue, the rest of the boys file into the green room. Louis is first, looking uncharacteristically sheepish.

“Love,” he starts, his hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t think—well, clearly, I didn’t think.”

“You’re right about that,” Liam mutters, not looking up from adjusting the ice pack on your ankle.

Louis shoots him a look but doesn’t take the bait. Instead, he crouches down beside the chair you’re sitting in, his blue eyes earnest. “Seriously, though. You okay?”

“I’m fine, Lou,” you say, reaching out to pat his arm. “Just a sprain. You’ll have to find someone else to climb scaffolding with for a while, though.”

“Never again,” he says quickly, his voice more serious than you’re used to hearing. “You scared the hell out of me.”

Before you can respond, Harry, Niall, and Zayn crowd around.

“You sure you’re okay?” Harry asks, his usual smirk replaced with genuine concern.

“Yeah,” Niall adds, his brows knit together. “We should’ve said something when we saw you two up there.”

“I wasn’t even sure it was safe,” Zayn admits quietly, crossing his arms. “I should’ve spoken up.”

“Guys, it’s not your fault,” you insist, trying to reassure them. “Really, I’m fine—”

“She’s fine,” Liam interrupts, his tone clipped as he straightens up and crosses his arms. “But it could’ve been worse. She needs rest and no more stunts like this.”

The boys exchange a look, their worry giving way to something lighter.

“Wow,” Harry says, cocking his head. “Look at you, Liam. Our own personal Florence Nightingale.”

“More like a bodyguard,” Niall quips. “Her very overprotective bodyguard.”

Louis perks up at that, his guilty expression replaced with a grin. “Or her boyfriend. The overprotective kind.”

“I’m not—” Liam starts, but he’s already blushing, his hands flying up in exasperation.

“You kind of are,” Zayn says with a small smirk.

“Wouldn’t be surprised if he tries to carry her to the bus later,” Harry adds.

The teasing breaks the tension, and you can’t help but laugh, despite the throbbing in your ankle.

“Maybe I’ll let him,” you say, shooting Liam a wink. “Could be fun.”

Liam groans, rubbing a hand over his face, but the corner of his mouth twitches like he’s trying not to smile.

…

The tour bus hums quietly as it barrels down the highway, the usual chaos subdued by exhaustion. The boys are scattered throughout the bus—Niall and Zayn are already passed out in their bunks, while Harry and Louis are huddled in the back lounge, their laughter faint through the door.

You’re sitting on the couch near the front, your injured ankle propped up on a pillow. The pain has dulled to a manageable ache, but Liam is still hovering nearby, pretending to scroll through his phone while he steals glances at you every other second.

“Liam,” you finally say, breaking the silence.

He looks up immediately, his expression unreadable. “Yeah?”

“You can stop watching me like I’m about to spontaneously combust,” you tease lightly, patting the cushion beside you. “Sit down before you wear a hole in the floor.”

He hesitates, then crosses the small space to sit beside you. Close, but not close enough.

“I just… wanted to make sure you’re okay,” he says, his voice soft. “After today.”

“I’m fine,” you say for what feels like the hundredth time, though this time your tone lacks its usual teasing edge. “Really, Liam. You don’t have to worry so much.”

“I can’t help it,” he admits, his gaze dropping to his hands. “When you fell… I’ve never been so scared in my life.”

The vulnerability in his voice catches you off guard, and for a moment, you just stare at him.

“You care about me,” you say quietly, testing the waters.

He lets out a soft, almost nervous laugh. “Of course I do. You’re… you’re one of my best friends.”

It’s not enough. Not anymore.

“Liam,” you say, your voice firmer now. “I’m tired of pretending.”

He looks at you, his brow furrowing. “Pretending?”

You shift closer, your heart pounding. “Pretending that I don’t notice how much you care. That I don’t notice all the little things you do for me. That I don’t feel the same way.”

His eyes widen, and for a second, you think you might’ve broken him.

“I’m saying,” you continue, your voice softer now, “that I like you, Liam. A lot. More than I probably should.”

The silence stretches between you, thick and charged.

“You…” He trails off, his voice barely a whisper. “You mean that?”

“Of course I do,” you say, your lips twitching into a small smile. “You think I’d risk saying it if I didn’t?”

He stares at you for a long moment, his eyes searching yours like he’s trying to figure out if this is real. Then, suddenly, he’s leaning in, his hand coming up to cup your cheek.

The kiss is tentative at first, like he’s still testing the waters. But when you respond, tangling your fingers in his shirt to pull him closer, all that hesitation melts away.

It’s soft and slow and perfect—everything you never knew you needed.

When you finally pull back, your foreheads rest against each other, both of you breathless but smiling.

“I’ve wanted to do that for years,” he admits, his voice low and full of wonder.

You grin, brushing your nose against his. “Well, it’s about time.”

He laughs, the sound warm and full of relief, and when he kisses you again, you think maybe—just maybe—you could get used to this.

…

The bus is quiet now, the hum of the engine the only sound as you carefully maneuver into Liam’s bunk. Your sprained ankle makes it awkward, but Liam is already there, helping you settle in like it’s second nature.

“Are you sure about this?” he asks, his hands gentle as they guide your leg onto a stack of pillows he’s somehow managed to fit into the cramped space. “I can sleep on the couch if you need more room.”

You shake your head, tugging at his arm until he climbs in beside you. “Liam, the couch is lumpy, and you’d be up every five minutes checking on me anyway. Just stay.”

He hesitates for a moment before settling in, his body warm and solid beside yours. It’s a tight fit, but neither of you seems to mind.

“Comfortable?” he asks softly, his voice low in the dim light.

“Yeah,” you murmur, leaning into him. “More than you’d think.”

For a while, you just lay there, the silence between you comfortable and heavy with unspoken words.

“I meant what I said earlier,” you whisper finally, breaking the quiet.

Liam shifts to look at you, his eyes searching yours. “About what?”

“About liking you. About not wanting to pretend anymore.”

His breath hitches, and he looks away for a moment, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck.

“I’ve been in love with you for years,” he admits, his voice so soft you almost miss it.

Your heart stutters, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at him.

“Years?” you echo, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nods, his gaze still fixed somewhere over your shoulder. “I thought… I thought it was just your thing, you know? The flirting, the teasing. I didn’t think you’d ever see me the way I see you.”

“Liam,” you say, reaching out to take his hand. “It was never just an act. Not with you.”

His eyes snap to yours, wide and vulnerable.

“I was scared,” you admit, your fingers tightening around his. “Scared that if I let myself feel this way, I’d ruin everything. But I couldn’t stop. You’re… you’re the calm to my storm, Liam. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He exhales sharply, his hand coming up to cup your cheek as his lips find yours in a kiss that’s equal parts relief and adoration.

When you pull back, you rest your forehead against his, your fingers tangling in the fabric of his shirt.

“I feel like I’m finally home,” you whisper, and you feel him smile against your skin.

“You are,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “And you always will be.”

The night passes in a blur of quiet laughter, whispered confessions, and soft kisses, the small space of the bunk feeling like its own little world. For the first time in a long time, everything feels right.

…

The morning light filters weakly through the tour bus windows, the soft rumble of the engine lulling you into a half-asleep haze. You’re vaguely aware of the warm, steady rise and fall of Liam’s chest beneath your cheek, his arm wrapped securely around your waist.

It’s peaceful—perfect, even—until the curtain to the bunk jerks open with a dramatic whoosh.

“Well, well, well,” comes Louis’ unmistakable voice, dripping with amusement. “What do we have here?”

You blink against the sudden light, trying to sit up, but Liam’s arm tightens around you instinctively.

“Louis,” Liam groans, his voice still thick with sleep. “Close the curtain.”

“Oh, no,” Louis says, grinning like he’s just hit the jackpot. “This is gold. Lads, come here!”

Before you can protest, Harry, Niall, and Zayn appear behind him, their expressions ranging from amused to downright smug.

“Finally,” Harry says, crossing his arms as he leans against the wall.

“About time,” Niall adds, his grin wide.

Zayn just shakes his head with a small smirk. “Didn’t think it’d take you this long, mate.”

Liam groans again, burying his face in his hand. “Can we not do this right now?”

“Oh, we’re absolutely doing this right now,” Louis declares, hopping up onto the bunk across from yours so he’s at eye level. “I mean, come on. You two? Sharing a bunk? Snuggled up like lovebirds? This is a historic moment.”

You roll your eyes, though you can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “Good morning to you too, Louis.”

“Morning, love,” he says, though his grin falters slightly. “Guess this means I’ve lost my partner-in-crime, huh?”

The teasing tone is there, but so is the hint of something softer—something almost wistful.

“Oh, Lou,” you say, reaching out to pat his knee. “You’ll never lose me. Who else would come up with brilliant plans to drive Liam insane?”

“Excuse me?” Liam cuts in, his brows shooting up.

“See? You’ve still got me,” you continue, ignoring Liam’s glare. “And now we’ve got a whole new dynamic to work with.”

Louis brightens immediately, his grin returning full force. “You know, you’re absolutely right. This could be even better.”

Liam groans, dragging a hand down his face. “Why do I feel like I’m going to regret this?”

“Because you will,” Harry says, clapping him on the shoulder with a laugh.

“Don’t worry, Liam,” Niall says, clearly enjoying himself. “At least now she’ll have someone to keep her in check.”

“Doubtful,” Zayn mutters, but the smirk on his face says he’s not entirely opposed to the idea.

The boys eventually wander off, their laughter fading as they head toward the back of the bus. Louis lingers a moment longer, his grin softening into something more genuine.

“Happy for you, love,” he says quietly, giving you a wink before hopping down and disappearing after the others.

When the curtain finally falls shut, you turn to Liam, who’s still shaking his head.

“You’ve just made my life ten times harder,” he mutters, though the fondness in his voice betrays him.

“You wouldn’t have me any other way,” you say, leaning up to kiss him softly.

He sighs, a small smile tugging at his lips. “No. I wouldn’t.”

...

Part 2

#liam payne x y/n #liam payne fanfiction #liam payne x reader #liam payne imagine #liam Payne x you #one direction fanfiction

73 notes · View notes

natailiatulls07 · 1 year ago

Text

You’re mine and only mine

Max Verstappen x female!driver!reader

Summary - Y/n and Max have been dating privately and now Y/n wants to share their relationship to the world

Warning - arguing, alcohol, love bites, idk

Reader drives for Ferrari

End of the season, this meant that everyone was celebrating. Either celebrating the world champion title or constructors cup or even just a break. So that meant that everyone was invited to one of the notorious nightclubs in Abu Dhabi.

Everyone dressed in their finest attire, ready to drink the night away with their friends, colleagues and rivals.

Y/n stood in front of the body length mirror, admiring herself in her black satin dress. Behind her on the hotel bed was Max Verstappen, this years world champion.

Despite being on different teams, Max with Redbull and Y/n with Ferrari, they had this growing romantic tension. Which lead them to have many quickies and hidden flings throughout the year.

“Remind me, when will I be able to show you off as mine to the world?” Y/n’s annoyed voice rang through Max ears.

“Just until the time is right.” Max responds. He had this gut feeling every time Y/n brought it up, Max wanted to show her off as his girlfriend but it didn’t feel right just yet.

Slipping into her louboutin heels, Y/n felt this underlying sense of shame. All she wanted was to tell the world that Max was her boyfriend but he always stopped her.

“Then when?! Or why not now?…Are you ashamed of me?” Her voice growing more somber. What if he was just ashamed of her?

“Schat, I’m not ashamed of you. Please I just don’t know how to deal with our relationship being so public” Max never wanted her to feel like that because it wasn’t true, far far from it.

“Are you sure now? Because I feel like you’re lying to me!” By now Y/n had moved from the front of the mirror, collecting her stuff before making her way to the hotel door. “I think I’m going to go…”

Before Max could speak through to her, Y/n had walked out of the hotel room. This leaving Max upset and annoyed at himself for not having any confidence. He was world champion but he felt like he had lost every race of the season.

Despite their fight earlier, both had to attend the party of the year. Putting on a brave face, making themselves look like nothing happened. The bright lights and music were wild, the party had definitely started by now.

Making her way to the bar, Y/n ordered herself a drink before going to find her team and teammate, Charles.

Walking into the club, Max’s eyes immediately started to search for her. He wanted to apologise to her, he wanted to kiss her forever in front of everyone.

“Hey! My favourite world champion, Max Verstappen!” Daniel’s voice shouted in excitement when he saw his former RedBull teammate.

“Hey Danny, have you seen Y/n yet?” Max’s comment caught Daniel off guard, they were rivals. Why would Max want to see her?

“No..anyways why do you want to see her? I mean she’s your rival, you hate her” Sighing in defeat, Max nodded his head. He made a mental note to keep and eye out for her.

“Oh nothing don’t worry…I need a drink” With the mention of Max’s need they made to the bar.

Meanwhile Y/n was over at the Ferrari table, talking to Charles about the season and families. “Don’t look now but Verstappen has just walked in” Charles announced to his teammate, this prompting Y/n to turn her head in the RedBull drivers direction.

Once she saw him stood there talking to Daniel, Y/n rolled her eyes still annoyed at him. “You know what mate, I just want a night without a drama so I plan on ignoring him for the rest of the evening” Y/n says to her Monégasque counterpart who, despite not knowing of their recent argument, agreed.

“Well here’s to ending the season, no dramas and having the party of our lives!” Charles raised his glass as to which Y/n soon joined his.

So that’s what they did, they had the best time. Y/n in particular as she felt Max’s sharp eyes on her the entire time. She danced to her heart content, but much to Max’s dismay Y/n had another trick up her sleeve. Of course it was petty but it was fun in her eyes.

“Hey Charles! Let’s dance!” Charles’ eye lit up, he had his own crush on his teammate. There was no surprise that he gladly accepted, taking her into his arms.

That was breaking point for Max, his girlfriend snuggling up to his long time rival since karting days on the dance floor. “Hold my drink.” He stood up, passing his beverage to Daniel who was confused as ever.

Max pushed past people, not caring. It wasn’t long until he arrived at the two Ferrari drivers. He push Charles off of Y/n before grabbing her bicep and walking her to the nearest toilet. Everyone was silent, confused and bewildered by his outburst.

Once they arrive to the toilet, Max pushed her up to the wall. “You’re mine and only mine” His lips were vicious on her neck, creating deep love bites.

Grasping from surprise, Y/n managed to push him off of her neck. “Then why are you still insisting that we keep it a secret? Because I can’t do both Max…please” Looking up at Max with pleading eyes.

It wasn’t long until he grabbed her hand, pulling her out of the toilet back towards the crowded club. When they got back to the large nightclub, everyone was staring at the two, mainly in shock.

“Um hi everyone I just want to let you all know that this beautiful girl right here” Max gestured towards Y/n who stood awkwardly at his side “Is my girlfriend and I love her so much even though she drives for Ferrari. And if you have a problem with that, please take it up with my manager” After announcing his relationship with Y/n, they both had proud smiles on their faces whilst Max dragged them out of the nightclub.

That night, Y/n and Max felt that massive anxiety being lifted off their shoulders. They could love each other freely and openly now.

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At the end of season, we thought that the surprises were done that was until Max Verstappen, RedBull driver, and Y/n L/n, Ferrari driver, pull off a Romeo and Juliet love story.

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I love you, Romeo 🤍

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Love you more, Juliet 🤍

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piss-pumpkin · 10 months ago

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Bad dreams (Percy x reader)

Child of Hypnos reader, ~4.5k words, set ambiguously after pjo, the request was enemies to lovers so I sincerely apologize. Masterlist

Capture the flag. It was a game of epic highs and lows, winner and losers, all to decide who wore the crown. Until next week, that is. And nobody took it more seriously than Annabeth, determined to win and keep her indestructible reputation as the best strategist around. She was in the war room, taking this very seriously, and discussing with her right hand man before the team.

Percy groaned, dramatically dropping his head on the table, half pushing off the map. “Annabeth, why?” He complained, hand waving in the air to communicate the distain that she couldn’t see in his face.

Annabeth sighed, taking her head in her hands. “I know you don’t like them,” she started calmly, crossing the floor to Percy to pat his back gently. “But the Hypnos cabin is an asset, between all of them, we can have half the enemy team asleep,” she said, ever pragmatic.

Percy was not a fan of her reasoning, as sound as it was. Unfortunately for him, the head counsellor of the Hypnos cabin was you. And You and Percy? He didn’t even want to think about. No idea why you decided not to like him upon meeting, even less of an idea how it’s escalated as far as it has. “Wise girl, have mercy,” he whined, standing up straight again. “Putting me in a room with them is a sure fire way to lose.”

Annabeth pursed her lips. “That might be true,” she started, circling the table, eyes the pieces she set dramatically to represent each of her forces. One or two Hypnos campers per squad to weaken the enemy. “But they’re essential to the plan, just… you’ll be in different areas, if all goes well.”

Percy grumbled. Things never went well.

As the battle drew closer, the allied cabins assembled to hear the more polished version of Annebeths plan. And of course, that meant you at the table, front and centre, your forces being an essential part of the strategy. Great. You always listened to Annabeth, even though she was always sticking up for him. And she managed to get you on the same team, even when you knew that guy you hated would be there.

You nodded along with the details, assigning siblings you thought best for each task. You seemed a lot nicer with them.

You conferred with your cabin, and offered another plan to Annabeth. Percy wasn’t completing focused, because when you were done, he had no idea what you’d said. Annabeth seemed to be a fan though. She nodded along, and adjusted the prices on her map while you have people notes and alternate delegations.

An order to each cabin head. All except him. He glanced around at each counsellor telling their cabin mates what they should do, and he cringed. You’d instructed everyone else. “Uh,” he started looking to you because Annabeth was busy talking to the Apollo counsellor. “Does my job change at all?”

You pursed your lips, smiling just slightly. “No, I guess I didn’t have anything for you,” you said slyly. “But isn’t jumping in without thinking kind of your whole thing? Just roll with that, yeah?”

Percy’s face flattened as he sighed. He needed somebody else, “Annabeth?” He asked.

She turned to him, and thought for a moment. “They might have a point,” she said curiously, much to his detest. Percy grumbled as she continued. “Using you as a wild card might be beneficial, especially because you can take large groups of them at once.”

Great. No job, and more work, somehow. And you were smiling, a bit too satisfied with yourself and his annoyance. Why was it always like this?

…

There was one time when Percy was sparring with Clarisse, and they got a little too heated, and it ended up with Clarisse on Pegasus cleanup duty, and Percy teaching sword classes for a week. Definitely the lighter punishment, considering he liked the job. Chiron always went a little easy on him. But there were layers to this punishment. Primarily: you.

When Percy was approaching, he saw you, and sighed. You were there first, already talking to the younger campers, wide smile on your face and holding a weapon. Ugh. Of course he had the misfortune of fucking up the same time as you. Okay. This week was actually going to be terrible.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” he said, jogging up to you and the campers. You’d just finished some sort of introduction, it was the perfect time to slide in. The youngest kid looked maybe ten, and had a dagger in her hand. She was little small for the real swords. The kids were looking up at him, faces blank or curious, and you were side eyeing him, brow raised, completely unimpressed. Yeah, he should probably do something interesting.

“Yeah, you sure were,” you laughed sarcastically, sounding just nice enough for the kids not to pick up on your distain.

Percy grimaced. Great start. With a deep breath, he did his best to recover, running his hands through his hair nervously. “Well, I’m here now, so,” he said, looking at the younger campers. Grinning, and ignoring your cold stare, he uncapped Riptide, and a few kids gasped. “How about we get to the fun stuff?”

He spared you a glance, catching you roll your eyes at him. This was not going to be a good week. Quite possibly the worst punishment Chiron could’ve given him.

It’s hard to teach as a team when you can’t get along for a second. And all the kids noticed, and did their best to egg you on. Percy was fighting for his life harder than he had on several quests, until the very last minutes of the time slot. Thank the gods it was only like, an hour. Even if it was one of the longest hours of his life.

And he wasn’t even spared when it was over.

“Of course we fucked up on the same week” you sighed, picking up a carelessly discarded sword. “Let me guess, something boring…” you started, walking idly toward the weapons rack with a handful of blades. “Like what, blowing up the bathroom again? Or sneaking out of camp for a quest?”

Hmm. Low blow. Though not completely unwarranted. “No, much cooler than that,” Percy sighed, rolling his eyes as he kicked up some dust from the arena floor. “Beating up Clarisse.”

You scoffed, “somehow I doubt that.”

And you weren’t exactly wrong. It was more of a mutual beating up, in a sort of frenemy way, Percy was the first to admit. But not to you. “Hey, you should see her,” he chided. “There’s cold hard proof.”

You bumped his shoulder on the way out of the arena, sighing. “Maybe I will, I could get some tips on kicking your ass,” you said, raising your brow.

By the time he thought of a good-ish response, you were too far away to hear, and he was kicking himself for letting you get the last word. He glanced around the empty arena dumbly. It looked like you finished the cleanup while he just stood there, another point you had on him now. The punishment may not have been a competition, but you seemed to be winning thus far. Shit.

And it only gets worse from there.

He managed to come early the second day, a full fifteen minutes to get warmed up, and think about what could be good to teach the newbies. And he had the arena all to himself to slash dummies in the exact way he’d instruct them to do later.

“Clarisse told me Chiron intervening is all that saved you from getting sent to the infirmary,” you said.

Percy jumped, Riptide nearly falling out of his hand. When the fuck did you get here? He hadn’t heard you at all. Sneaky bitch. He turned to face you when he recovered from his shock, “yeah, well, she couldn’t admit she lost a fight if there was a gun to her head.”

You didn’t look sold. You raised your brow, “could you?”

He pursed his lips. He wanted to say something like, yes, duh! But quickly realized it might be a lie. To most people he could, but admitting defeat to you felt much worse. Like it would confirm all your doubts or apprehensions about him, or whatever your grudge was. He decided a little lie wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. “I could,” he said casually, slashing a combat dummies head.

He didn’t see your face as you hummed lowly with disapproval. Probably for the better.

Or so he thought, because as you were walking towards the dummy beside his, he started to feel drowsy. His slashes got slower as his arms felt heavier, like they were weighing him down. He looked at you, and immediately wanted to lie down and pass out. Ugh. Your subtle smirk told him you knew exactly what you were doing. And it only escalated when the kids started to arrive.

You started the lesson off assertively. While he was struggling to blink with his heavy eyelids. “If you have any cool demigod abilities, you should totally use them literally whenever you can,” you said, pointing your weapon enthusiastically at the campers.

Percy couldn’t help but watch in slight awe as you engrossed them all. You narrowed in on a son of Apollo, your blade staring him down as you told him he should get comfortable using healing abilities in a fight. You seemed to have a suggestion for everyone; the daughter of Hectate should use the mist, a Demeter kid should try and use vines, your Hypnos brother should use… sleep powers. Percy knew about those all too well.

Percy had to admit he was jealous of the way they seemed excited about your ideas. Did they really like you more than him? It wasn’t that he felt bad not being liked, he was plenty used to that in all the schools he went to. It was more that it was you. The way you showed a nicer side to seemingly everyone but him. His body still felt like it was made of lead.

You had some blind spots though. Not everyone had powers, Percy guessed, watching a couple Athena kids rolling their eyes or looking at the ground. “I hate to interject,” Percy started, stealing your and the kids attention again. “But this is weapons training, there are other classes for using abilities.” Plus, maybe you’d stop using yours if they got back on focus.

”Hey, I’m teaching them how to fight better, isn’t that the goal?” You shot back. You seemed to catch the way his eyes were lingering on the kids without abilities. “Even if you don’t have any specific powers,” you said, turning back to the campers, “if we start using them, you’ll learn how to counter them, and kick our asses better.”

Percy sighed. You seemed pretty stuck on this. He tiredly uncapped Riptide, and pointed at it. “Weapons class, Y/n. Let’s focus on using weapons,” he said.

You shifted your lips around, maybe chewing on them, and then seemed to have a thought. Unfortunately. You smiled at the kids, “yeah, well, Percy doesn’t always use his abilities to the fullest when he fights,” you said. “Maybe don’t take his lead too much.”

Ugh. “Well, it’s not always as easy as some people make it look,” he said, gesturing at you. “Not everyone has powers, and some people get drained easily by theirs. For me, I can’t always rely on there being water around me.”

You crossed your arms, raising your brow, and actually looked at him this time. “You know what people are made of, right?”

The kids were listening intently, some snickering and smirking to themselves. A couple seemed annoyed that the training was paused just so the teachers could bitch at each other. Percy sighed, “yeah, no, I don’t want to do that. I think that was an episode of Avatar: the last airbender.”

You rolled your eyes, scoffing. “Well you might win more fights if you did,” you said snidely. Your eyes lowered a moment as you lowered your voice with a bitter tone, “I hate the idea of you going easy on me.”

Before Percy could respond with a retort of his own, you’d dropped the mean act and completely focused on the kids, upbeat and happy. You clapped your hands together, and shot them a wide smile, “how about a demonstration, guys?”

Aw shit. The kids lit up, nodding along as you continued. “How about me and Percy have a little match, and we see who wins, yeah?” You said, grinning at him. Ugh. It wasn’t a secret that people said he was the best swordsman at camp, but you were a head counsellor too. And even if he could stab you, he probably shouldn’t in front of the kids anyway.

He had started to tune you out, but got snapped back to reality when he heard his name. “Percy, are you down?” You asked with faux sweetness. Ugh. Percy sucked a breath in through his teeth, and sighed. “Uh-Sure,” he said cautiously.

You grinned, and the kids stepped back and whispered to each other. Yeah, they definitely picked up on your rivalry. They waited restlessly, probably excited to see the climax of your mutual dislike. Like the fight was inevitable. He uncapped Riptide with a sigh, and raised the blade as you shooed the kids to step further back. He took a fighting stance, raising his blade at the ready. Just great. Your aura of tiredness or whatever was affecting him seemed to get worse. Yeah, he might be fucked without water.

You smirked, twirling a weapon of your own between your fingers and glancing at your audience happily, chest puffed out in self satisfaction. “Do you want to count us down?” you asked the kids, grinning.

They nodded along, three, and Percy sighed, eying the water bottle he had off to the side. If he could get it then maybe... whatever. Maybe if he beat you, you’d lay off. Two. Or, if you won, you could get ten times worse. One. There was no good outcome. And it’s not like either of you could maim each other with the kids watching.

Ugh. Still weighed down by an impossible spell of drowsiness, Percy started to lunge forward, sword ready to slash in an arc above his head. But then he looked at you. And you looked at him. And you were shooting him a finger gun, and Percy was out cold, without enough time to grumble or complain about it. Well shit.

Like most times he slept, he was dreaming. Nightmares, specifically. At least he felt no godly presence, or anything sinister. Today, it was Annabeth and Grover dead on the floor, with Kronos in Luke’s body glaring at him from the sidelines. And then it was just Luke, looking at him sadly, approaching him, and then asking why he let his sister die. Percy didn’t have an answer.

Nightmare Luke wasn’t a fan of that. Suddenly he was turning back into Kronos and raising Backbiter, and Percy was completely unable to move, paralyzed by fear, sadness, and bitter anger. Great. Just great.

But Luke didn’t swing. He stopped, eyes cloudy and blank, and the bodies faded away. Was his subconscious being nice today? Luke stepped back, and his sword has vanished, and the scene was fading fast.

Percy was awake. He grumbled, not wanting to open his eyes. His head was in the dirt, body completely weighed down by his own exhaustion. The arena floor wasn’t the worst place he could’ve fallen, at least. He grumbled, sat up, and rubbed his eyes until they opened.

You were still there, Percy’s eyes flew open, shaking any lingering tiredness. He scooted back just slightly. You were sitting beside him, head rested in hands and lips pursed. “Uhh,” he stuttered, scooting back further. “You’re uh, still hanging out here?” A quick glance showed the kids were gone, and the lesson had been over for a while.

”You have some of the worst nightmares I’ve seen, dude,” you said simply, shifting your head from hands to hand. “I’m… sorry, I didn’t- I didn’t mean to snoop.”

Percys brow furrowed. What? You looked apprehensive, but your words didn’t seem malicious in the slightest. He stopped scooting back, but he held his arm up defensively between you, unsure why. You didn’t have a weapon. “It’s… fine. Was it you that… ended it?” He asked tentatively.

You nodded. “It didn’t seem fun,” you said quietly. You looked away, hiding your face in a palm, “Sorry for putting you in there, I guess,” you said. “I’ll try to avoid sleeping you, if you want.”

Percy looked at you quizzically, jaw hung slightly open, more than confused. You were being nice. That’s crazy. He wasn’t sure how to act. Every word he said was laced with hesitation and the slightest bit of a stutter. “Thanks, I guess,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck. “Appreciate it.”

You nodded, and a slightly sealed silence fell over the woods as you refused to look at him. But you didn’t stand up to leave yet either.

“Hey, Y/n, can I ask,” he started, sitting up straighter and crossing his legs. “Usually you hate me…” he said, almost wincing. “Do you… not, today?”

That got your attention, and your eyes were burning through him. Your brow furrowed, and softened, your mouth opened and then closed, you looked away, then back at him, and then sighed. “I don’t hate you, Percy,” you admitted, sounding abjectly defeated.

That got an involuntary “huh?” Out of him. You totally hated him. That was just a fact.

You sighed, and shook your head, turning back away from him. You tone was far lighter this time, “no, I don’t hate you, I just- I don’t know,” you said.

”Then why-“ Percy started dumbly, but quickly trailed off, unsure how to make his question less rude. There didn’t seem to be an obvious answer. “Why are you like this,” he asked, cringing at his own callousness.

You snickered, looking at him with a slight and awkward smile. You shrugged, and looked back at the woods. Percy didn’t speak, he barely breathed, waiting for any sort of a signal from you. Somehow, it worked. You sighed , and stretched your legs in front of you and said, “I don’t know.” You paused, probably thinking. “It just comes naturally, I guess.”

Percy hummed.

“That came out mean, didn’t it,” you laughed softly.

“Like most things you say,” he laughed, but quickly trailed off. “Sorry.”

You smiled hesitantly, looking over at him with softer eyes than he usually sees on you. “No, that was deserved,” you said.

Percy smiled, and then raised his brow, surprising himself. That didn’t happen when he talked to you, this was fresh territory. Before he could respond, you were standing, and for the first time, offering him a hand up. And for the first time, he took it.

You pulled him to his feet, but didn’t look at him, curtly turning your head away as he stood in front of you. Percy couldn’t help but snicker under his breath. You seemed intent on staring at a tree.

”Hey,” Percy started, brushing his hair out of his face. “Do you wanna go get on the same page about what we’re teaching them tomorrow so we don’t have a repeat of today?” He asked. He got a little scared when you finally looked at him, but you didn’t seem angry. And if anybody knew your angry face it was him. “We’ll probably be better teachers if we actually work together on it.”

You hesitated, raising your brow. “Uh, really?” You stuttered, crossing your arms and shrinking into yourself.

Percy sighed. He was doing this, he’d committed now. For better or worse. “Yeah,” he nodded, with a friendly smile. “Why not? Let’s go get lunch or something.”

Percy wasn’t sure how well his olive branch was working. Your lips were pursed and arms still crossed, but.. the ever so familiar scowl you often showed him was absent from your lips. That could be good. You looked at the ground, then back to him, “yeah, okay.”

And here he was braced for rejection and an insult. Small victories. Percy grinned, nodding his head in the general direction of the dining pavilion, “then let’s go.”

You nodded, and walked quietly beside him as he started for the path. Okay, a little awkward silence was nothing, that was still a win. Miles better than where he was this morning. Or even like, an hour ago. So Percy was inclined to try and bridge the gap. “The kids are gonna be really surprised when we actually work together, tomorrow,” he laughed. Careful words, when, not if.

He caught in his peripheral the tug of your lips upward into the slightest of smiles. “They’ll never see it coming,” you said. Maybe like a joke. Wow, was this actually working? You let out a small laugh, “neither did I.”

Percy but the inside of his cheek to suppress a smile. That made two of you, because this was the last thing Percy expected too. “Yeah,” he started. “Not bad though.”

For the first time in a good minute, you met his eyes, and his attention was drawn. You didn’t normally look at him like that. It was a… nice change pace. You sighed, “No, not the worst.” You swished your cheeks around a moment as you paused, but didn’t say more. And Percy would be lying to himself if he tried thinking he wasn’t a little disappointed. It almost looked like you were gonna say something nice. Well, maybe not the worst was nice enough. For you, at least.

”Percy, I’m really sorry about those nightmares,” you said finally, looking at the ground.

Ah. That. Percy didn’t tell all that many people about his shit dreams. It was kind of a given that most people at camp got them, in some capacity at least. But he did his best to project a lighthearted image, especially when he was with the younger campers. “Oh,” he said dumbly.

“If you want, I can help with those,” you offered quietly.

Now that caught Percy’s attention. He raised his brow, “You can do that?” And he didn’t ask his other question: you would do that? Like, for him?

You looked up at him, then back to the ground as the two of you approached the dining pavilion. “Yeah, Hypnos stuff,” you mumbled. “I do it for some other people too.”

Oh gods, you felt bad for him. That was a weird thought. “Oh- you don’t have to do that,” he started, suddenly far more embarrassed. So that’s why you were being nice. Suddenly it didn’t feel as good as before.

You looked up at him with wider eyes now, and bit the inside of your cheek. “Well, if you ever change your mind.”

Something about your pity didn’t sit right with him, even if was glad you didn’t look like you wanted to bite his head off. This look, the feeling sorry for him face, was somehow worse. “I won’t,” he snapped, sounding meaner than he meant. Or maybe he did mean it, in his bitterness he couldn’t tell. “You don’t need to pretend to like me now that you feel bad.”

You brow furrowed, and that pity look was gone in an instant. “Hey asshole, I was just offering to help,” you spat. Now this was more familiar. You crossed your arms at your chest as you walked. “Thought about being nice for once.”

”Yeah, for once,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Because now you feel bad.”

”Oh shut up,” you said, shaking your head with a glare. You stopped just short of the pavilion. “You aren’t special because you get nightmares, idiot, half the camp does,” you said, stepping closer to him. He was inclined to back away. “I’ve seen worse.”

Percy took another step back. There was a few stray campers sitting in the pavilion watching curiously, now.

“But sure, go ahead,” you said, hands animating with your words. He flinched a moment as you halfway gripped the air. “Keep having your shit dreams, I don’t care.”

“Then why did you offer,” he spat back.

You looked at him like he was an idiot, shaking your head. “Because nightmares suck, nobody deserves that shit,” you said, like it was obvious. “Not even a stuck up asshole who thinks he’s better then everyone.”

What? Percy stood dumbly for a moment while your sharp glare subsided into a duller scowl. Did he really come off like that? “I’m not-“ he started, but quickly gave up. As much as he wanted to insult you back, half the things you said were genuinely pretty nice. You were right, nobody deserved that.

You scoffed, “sure you’re not,” you said bitterly.

The two do you stood silently for a moment. And a few moments more. The couple of campers watching awkwardly tried to go back to eating. The lunch plans the two of you made seemed so far in the past now. Same with the idea of getting in the same page.

Percy spoke first. “I don’t- I don’t think like that,” he said lamely.

”No, you’re just the hero of Olympus, who goes on all the quests, who the gods tried to give immortality too,” you said. But the malice was gone. “You’re the reason I even have a cabin here,” you said quietly.

Percy winced. How do you explain to somebody that going on all those quests… wasn’t always great. It stopped being amazing when more lives were at risk, the stakes got higher, people died. A lot of the time all the glory kind of sucked. “Well it’s… not all it’s cracked up to be,” Percy managed. “I mean, you saw the aftermath.”

”Yeah,” you said, looking at the ground. “That’s why I thought.. you might not be how I thought.” You looked up, expression made of stone. “But at least you’re… I don’t know,” you trailed off, “I think I’d still rather be somebody, even if it sucks.”

Percy half heartedly laughed through his nose, “Usually I feel the opposite, it would’ve been easier to be a kid of some minor god.”

”Grass is always greener, I guess,” you sighed.

“You are somebody, though,” Percy said, realizing he should probably address that. The idea that you were insecure seemed so alien. The way you insulted him always seemed so confident. “You don’t need a ton of quests or fights to prove that.”

You rolled your eyes, a weak smile was forming on your lips, “well, that’s easy for you to say. I’m only here, and claimed, and in a cabin because you made the gods pay their child support.”

Percy smiled softly, gesturing his head to the tables at the pavilion. He started to walk as he spoke, “that’s the gods, that’s their problem,” he said, grabbing a plate to fill with the magic food with you behind him. “You’re more then the gods approval.”

He had to look back to see if you were still there, the way you went quiet. You grabbed a plate, and followed him to a table, all with that stone faced look. Not pity or malice, this time. When you sat down beside him, you finally cracked. “Thanks,” you managed, staring ruefully at your food.

“It’s true,” Percy said.

You looked up at him, a slight smile on your lips this time. “Thanks,” you said, more confidently.

“Are you still up for helping me with the nightmares?”

This request haunted me for like over a month cuz I couldn’t get anything out of it for a while. I wasn’t gonna post here but I ended up happier with it then I thought tho. Can you tell I never write enemies to lovers? I usually hate that trope lmao. Anyway part 2 coming maybe.

#x reader #my writing #percy jackson x you #percy jackson fanfiction #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x y/n #pjo x reader #pjo

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