#thank you so much for sending in a request

[norrisainz33]

friend of a friend || MV33

☆ summary: max meets his dream girl through his friends good friend, pato o’ward

☆ pairing: max verstappen x mexican!reader

☆ fc & warnings: gala montes & poorly translated spanish and slightly suggestive! you are responsible for the content you consume

☆ requested: yes!! thank you for requesting and apologies for the delay 🫶🏻

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

maxverstappen1 has made a post

liked by ynuser, redbullracing, schecoperez, charlesleclerc and 547,936 others

maxverstappen1: enjoying some much needed sun and relaxation before we head to vegas 😴

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user1: max i’ll meow if you need another cat

user2: i’m sorry who in the heck is in the last slide

user4: is he soft launching rn??? at a time like this???

user6: so this is why he still looks happy despite rbr woes

user7: is that his girlfriend?!

user8: max please give us the tea

user9: f1gossip im begging you to figure out who this is

redbullracing: happy you’re getting some r&r max 🤍

ynuser: mi novio es tan bonito [my boyfriend is so pretty]

[liked by maxverstappen1]

user9: now hold up ….. who is this and why did max like

f1gossip: taking note of this interaction

user12: ugh she’s private so we can’t even snoop but she’s followed by pato and elba oward, carlos, rebecca, rbr and checo

user13: this is pato and elba’s childhood friend!!! she’s good friends with them

user12: everyone say thank you user13

user3: the shirtless photos?? the soft launch??? how am i supposed to be normal

charlesleclerc: 👀

user4: i’m gonna miss ur fine ass when i scroll

user5: sometimes you just gotta say damn and move on

ynuser has added to their story 🔒

[staying here forever]

view all story replies

yourbff: in monaco???? no gracias. you can’t leave me like that 😭

ynuser: yes monaco!! it is so beautiful 🥹

yourbff: you’re not just saying that because of a certain man?

ynuser: oh no i am saying that bc of a certain man 😮‍💨 he is a dream come true bestie

yourbff: ugh do elba and pato have any other hot millionaire friends they could set me up with???

ynuser: i’ll ask them im sure they do

yourbff: preferably one who’s name rhymes with pranko dolapinto

ynuser: HAHAHA mi amiga

carlossainz55: te gusta monaco? [you like monaco?]

ynuser: yes!! i love it. you, me, rebecca and max should grab dinner one night while im here!!

carlossainz55: i’d love that

maxverstappen1: you can always move 🤷🏻‍♂️

ynuser: maybe one day 🤔

elbaoward: my work here is done 🥹

ynuser: you are a magician. how’d you know we were perfect for each other?

elbaoward: bc i know my best friend 🤍

ynuser: te amo elba 🫶🏻

redbullracing: can’t wait to see you in vegas!

patriciooward has made a post

liked by ynuser, elbaoward, yourbff, maxverstappen1, landonorris, and 321,345 others

patriciooward: gentle mornings with my hermanas

view all 223 comments

user12: oh max is in the likes 👀

ynuser: why do you insist on picking the worst photos

patriciooward: it’s my brand

elbaoward: 💁🏻‍♀️

maxverstappen1: send me the last pic

patriciooward: done!

ynuser: PATO wtf

user12: user13 you were right

user1: oh to have gentle mornings with pato 😭

user3: i love that he calls y/n his sister too

ynuser has made a post 🔒

liked by maxverstappen1, yourbff, carlossainz55, iamrebeccad, patriciooward, and 313 others

ynuser: la vida últimamente [life lately]

view all 22 comments

yourbff: ugh the red hair suits you

ynuser: i agree 🥹

maxverstappen1: prettiest girl in the whole world

ynuser: mi amor 🥹 i love you 🤍

maxverstappen1: te amo

elbaoward: the spanish 😭🥹🩷

maxverstappen1: i’m working on it!

iamrebeccad: dinner last night was so fun. let’s do it again 🤍

ynuser: i’d love that!! see you in vegas darling

patriciooward: oh so you’ll post but not answer my texts

ynuser: yes exactly

friend1: hermosa chica [beautiful girl]

maxverstappen1 has posted to his story

view all story replies

user2: max emilian the man that you are

user4: screaming crying throwing up. i can’t believe he’s off the market

ynuser: my man my man my man 😍

maxverstappen1: that’s me baby

ynuser: thanks for inviting me to vegas with you

maxverstappen1: schjate you’re invited everywhere with me. i never want to be without you

ynuser: omg you big softie

charlesleclerc: oh she’s got you dressing up now too?

maxverstappen1: i want to look nice for my girl what can i say

charlesleclerc: oh he’s in love

maxverstappen1: 🤭 maybe

user5: i ! can’t believe you’re not wearing skinny jeans. the power she must have

schecoperez: i like this girl 😉

maxverstappen1: me too

user6: the emoji???????? max i’m speechless who are you

ynuser has added multiple stories 🔒

view all story replies

yourbff: god you’re gorgeous. have so much fun at the race baby

ynuser: thank you bebe. vegas is amazing - i am having the best time

yourbff: living vicariously through you 🥹

maxverstappen1: you have no business looking this good especially when there’s nothing i can do about it 😫

ynuser: win me the race and you can have me as a prize later 😉

maxverstappen1: you got it baby

elbaoward: are you in red bull hospitality??? come to mclaren i want to see youuuuu

ynuser: yes i’m in red bull but will cross enemy lines for you gorgeous

patriciooward: hermana donde estas? [sister where are you?]

ynuser: omw patito

f1gossip has made a post

liked by user1, user2, yourbff, user3, user4, user5, user6, user7 and 7,234 others

f1gossip: in an interview earlier today max confirmed his relationship with, y/n y/l/n. y/n is childhood friends with elba and pato o’ward and it turns out that the siblings introduced max and y/n in miami earlier this season. the pair hit it off immediately according to max and “it was the closest thing to love at first sight he’d ever experienced.” she’s in attendance today at the grand prix! let us know if you get the chance to meet her and if there’s any further intel you get

view all 271 comments

user1: ohhhhh max 🥹

user2: this interview melted my heart. he looked so genuinely happy to be talking about her

user7: i love seeing him happy

user3: i’m obsessed with them already. perhaps my new favorite wag

user4: love at first sight???? i’m not crying! you are!!

user6: the way max also talked about trying to learn spanish for her because she’s mexican and how he’s also trying to teach her some of his language too 🥹😭

user8: this is the sweetest thing. that is true love idc what any of yall say

user5: i hope a love like this finds me one day

maxverstappen1 has made a post

liked by ynuser, yourbff, schecoperez, alex_albon, patriciooward, and 645,123 others

maxverstappen1: vegas you were a fun one - thanks for having me and y/n/n!

view all 546 comments

user2: y/n/n 😭

user4: crying my eyes out

user6: yayyy maxie!!! glad to see you on the podium again

ynuser: te amo mucho vegas 🤍

maxverstappen1: and you te amo mucho me too right?

ynuser: omg yes maxie. i love you endlessly

user14: SIMP

user15: max asking for validation has done something to me.

charlesleclerc: great drive max!

patriciooward: take care of my girl ok?

maxverstappen1: you got it pato! no need to worry

redbullracing: our champion 💪🏻

user8: jealousy isn’t cute on me but here we are

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: thank you for reading!! reblogs, feedback and likes are very appreciated 🫶🏻

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[moonstruckme]

HI MAE so i didnt send the shy remus x reader ask but i saw that u wanted ideas and i had one. what about reader who's very cocky and like confident and stuff and remus is intimidated by her usually but then theyre at a party or smth and shes all drunk and shes all over him telling him stuff like how shes got the biggest crush on him or like how hes genuinely one of the most attractive people shes ever met and shy remus is js like 😳 while also taking care of her bc shes so drunk and simultaneously trying not to combust

Hi my love, thank you so much for your request!

cw: alcohol

shy!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

Really, it should be Sirius’ responsibility to look after you. It is his party, after all. But Sirius has a love for delegating unwanted tasks and also a love for meddling (which Remus theorizes he got at least partly from James). So, naturally, you’re in Remus’ lap. 

“You guys are so nice,” you croon, words strung together like cursive and fingers toying with a loose thread of Remus’ sweater. He’s resigned himself to letting you unravel the whole thing without complaint. “All of you, all your friends are the nicest…the warmest people I ever knew. How’d you do that?” 

Remus smiles down at you. “I think James has always been good at bringing out the best in people.” 

He’s not entirely sure how you came to be lying on your back on the couch, your head on Remus’ thigh and your hands reaching for the dangling thread above you like a cat enjoying some lazy play. If he asked you, Remus doesn’t think you’d know, either. It makes a lovely view for him, your eyes uptilted in his direction and features relaxed and unguarded as a result of the series of tequila shots Sirius had cajoled you into not realizing you’d already had a few drinks. Remus very much enjoys having you this close and being able to look at you so casually, even if your brassy, larger-than-life demeanor often terrifies as much as impresses him. Even if your head on his thigh makes his face feel like a fire hazard. 

“Don’t think he had to work very hard with you. You’re such a sweetheart already.” You say it so simply, an obvious truth, and Remus finds himself staying perfectly still like a rabbit in the woods that thinks it might yet escape your notice. His heartbeat pitters in everywhere from his cheeks to his fingertips. He worries he’s going to have to make a response, but your eyes widen suddenly. “Oh! Sit still.” 

No problems there. Remus moves only his eyes as you sit up from his lap, tucking your feet underneath you and reaching for him with your lip trapped between your teeth in concentration. You touch a fingertip to his cheek and smile victoriously. 

“Got it.” You turn your finger, showing him. “You had an eyelash.” You blow it off your fingertip and onto Sirius’ rug. Remus marvels at the unthinking loveliness of you. “Have I talked to you about your eyes before?” you ask conversationally. 

Remus blinks, ceasing his tracking of the eyelash to look at you. “I don’t think so,” he ventures, though he knows you haven’t. He remembers most exchanges you’ve had, and he definitely would have remembered that. 

“Oh.” Your brows purse softly. “Must’ve been with someone else,” you murmur, almost to yourself. “Anyway, it’s important to me that you know, they’re really beautiful.” 

Remus startles, partly at the compliment but mostly at the touch you lay on his cheek, your fingers cool and gentle, like you’re steadying his face for your perusal. You look into his eyes attentively. 

“They’re brown,” Remus says in a soft voice. 

Your lips tilt like he’s said something funny. “Nobody’s eyes are just brown, Remus. There are so many different kinds.” Your index finger draws a short line across his cheekbone. Remus can’t tell you mean for it to or not. “Yours are sort of like a…like a gradient. They get lighter farther down.” 

Remus decides to study your eyes as you study his, and he sees what you mean. The shadow of your lashes makes your irises look darker at the tops. It’s difficult to tell, though, with your pupils eclipsing so much of them. 

“They’re, like, a warmish brown,” you’re saying, gaze unwavering. “Like the color you want your tea to be. You know, there’s some fact or study or something that says brown eyes make people feel safe. Did you know that?” 

“I didn’t,” Remus says. The weight of your attention is taking its toll on him, his body aching to sink into the couch cushions. He wants to ask if brown eyes have that effect on you, but he doesn’t have the nerve. “Is that so?” he asks instead.

You shrug. “I dunno. Works on me.” 

The breath stalls in Remus’ lungs. You’re looking at him like you haven’t said anything out of the ordinary, expression wide open and somewhat unfocused. 

You yawn, removing your hand from his face to half cover your mouth. It’s an awfully endearing show, and over too fast. “I guess that’s probably why—” You cut yourself off with a hiccup. Your eyes flare like you weren’t expecting it, hand jumping back up in front of your mouth. Remus grins before he can stop himself. 

“Oh.” Your smile is an afterthought, a response to his. “Sorry.” 

“It’s okay.” Remus isn’t even certain what you’re apologizing for. 

Your eyes have that sweet, attentive look again. “I really like when you smile.” 

Remus feels heat spread up to the tips of his ears. It’s official. He’s got more in common with a live flame than a human anymore. “What were you saying?” he prompts. 

You bite your lip as though you’ve forgotten. “Oh!” Your eyes light. “Just, I guess that’s probably why I have such a giant crush on you.” 

Remus’ heart thuds. He breathes, “What?” 

“Yeah.” You roll your eyes, grinning at yourself. “It’s relentless.” Hiccup. “Super embarrassing. But—but you’ve got those eyes, and your freckles, and that sweetheart face…” You shrug again, helpless. Ride out another hiccup. “What am I supposed to do?” 

Remus stares at you. It seems impossible. You have a crush on him? It’s out of the natural order. The world’s gone to chaos. It’s supposed to be the other way around! Remus pines silently after you, you eventually find some big, cocksure bloke who can match you, and Remus continues to pine whilst you go on with your brilliant, dazzling life. That’s the way it’s meant to be. 

“I would…” Remus finds his mouth forming around words he doesn’t recognize until they come out. “I’d know a thing or two about a crush like that.” 

Your lips part, but you don’t look offended. “Well, yeah. I’d hope you knew I fancied you, I’ve only been seeking you out ever since we met.” 

Not what he meant. Remus did not, in fact, know that. 

“I didn’t notice you were,” he admits. 

Your head tilts. “Really?” There’s an obvious follow up question—then what did you mean just now?—but for one reason or another, you don’t ask it. You only lean onto his shoulder, your head slipping a few inches down his arm.

Remus channels all his bravery into an arm around your waist to keep you from slumping further. He vows to himself to tell you tomorrow.

[eupheme]

Not to be the little gremlin obsessed with Chappell Roan BUT… reader thinking Logan is too cool to want a proper relationship with them, so when things get physical they insist things are just “casual” in order to protect themselves from getting hurt. But secretly you’re in love with each other, so honestly, neither of you want things to be casual at all… (mutual pining my beloved) please & thank you!! Love you!

ahh hi hi avo I LOVE this song, and this request, and you - I could so see this being a situation that Logan and reader find themselves in. I had so much fun writing this, I hope you like it! (I added a couple winks to the lyrics as well.) 💖 thank you so much for sending this to me!!!

casual | variant!logan howlett x f!reader

1.2k | posessive!logan, fwb(???), use of alcohol, mutual pining, references to oral sex and PiV.

It doesn’t matter that your heart flips when you look at him. It’s Logan. It’s just casual.

It certainly feels like a dream, watching your worlds collide.

The heft of Logan’s palm fitting into your friends as he shakes their hand - the five of you squeezed into your usual booth in the corner of the bar.

You’d say the past couple weeks had seemed that way, as well. A late-night dose of bravery spiraling into something so raw and intense and real, that you feel like you could choke on it.

Even now, there’s heat in your cheeks as your eyes flick his way. Something stirring in your chest at the way his other arm slings across the back of the booth almost possessively.

But like all dreams, there comes a moment where you have to wake up.

Because you know it’s not.

Because you know your feelings aren’t requited. How could they be, when it’s Logan you’re talking about?

A legend.

A lone wolf.

Someone important, someone whose name carries a weight. Who saved the world, from what Wade tells you.

And you’re - you.

So even if you know what he looks like beneath that flannel, know what his mouth feels like when it presses against yours - what he sounds like, when he comes - you know that this is nothing.

It’s casual. A distraction, for both of you.

And if that’s how it has to be, then you’ll do your best to show him you’re cool with it.

You just hadn’t expected this moment to come so soon. It had been a genuine offer, your “you wanna come with?” when the hour rolled around for your weekly trivia night.

Not thinking his head would cock to the side. The look he’d give you - that arched brow, as his fingers splayed out across your bare hip. Still crowded together on your couch, sweat-dewed.

The “sure, sweetheart” that slipped out.

And now you’re introducing him as your friend - that quick history you’ve perfected - rattling off the “you know, Wade from work’s roommate” even though Wade didn’t work at the dealership anymore.

He had made enough of an impression that none of your friends had forgotten.

And you ignore the bitter jolt in your stomach, when all Logan does is hum.

You think you must have assumed right.

He doesn’t correct you.

Logan quickly solidifies himself as an asset to the team. He gets a lot of the history questions that you’ve always struggled with. A shy quirk of his lips when your friends cheer, and you get swept along with it.

His hand ending up on your thigh along the way. Squeezing, when you chime in. Almost as if forgetting - it’s easy to, when you’re having fun like this.

A low rasp in your ear, when the host takes a break.

“Lemme get you another.”

You can only nod, as he eases out - taking your glass with him.

It only takes a second, before MJ’s hand slaps down on yours.

“That’s Logan?” She hisses - leaning forward, “The one who-”

“Yes.” You cut her off, ignoring the sideways glance her boyfriend gives you.

You never should have told her about that.

Had a hard enough time climbing into your car without thinking about it, yourself - the way he had man-handled you in the passenger seat. Thighs thrown over broad shoulders.

Fingers twined in his hair, as he made you moan in the dark parking garage. Too eager to make it up to your apartment.

She frowns, the words petering out, “But I thought-”

Your teeth worry at your lower lip.

“Yeah. Me too.” You sigh.

MJ knows how much you like him.

Really like him - butterflies, and everything. How it’s been years since you felt this way - slipping from you during that rushed phone call at 6 am the morning after your first night together.

Her eyebrows raise, and it’s a look you know well.

“It’s, you know.” Your hand waves, “It’s casual. It’s-”

It’s easier, this way.

Maybe if you keep repeating it, it won’t hurt as much when he moves on.

The look she shoots you is one of pity, just as a drink is set down in front of you.

Your teeth clicking against each other as the words are swallowed. Forcing a smile as Logan slips back in the booth next to you.

The next round starts a moment after, and it’s a welcome reprieve.

You miss the way his eyes narrow, as yours fix firmly on scorecard in front of you.

But you don’t miss the way his hands stay folded on top of the table, for the rest of the night.

You suppose he must have remembered where he was.

“You wanna come up?”

He lingers outside your apartment door, hands jammed into his pockets. That look from the bar is back - all dark, narrowed eyes.

A low sound in his throat, close to a scoff.

“That what you want, sweetheart?”

Your eyebrows raise, “Yeah. I do, I mean-, that’s what we usually do, right?”

He’s spent just about every night at your apartment. His things still scattered across your room. A leather jacket slung across the chair that’s tucked against your vanity.

Logan’s lips twist at the edges, eyes dropping.

“Suppose we do.” Those hands slip from his pocket, crossing over his chest, “Back when I thought we knew what we were doing. But now…”

His head shakes. A tick in his jaw.

Your stomach drops.

“What do you mean?”

Logan huffs, “The bar, baby. Is that how you really feel?”

A step closer, until he’s caging you in. Voice dropping, rough and low - near gritted out.

“Does this,” His fingers flick between your chest and his, “feel casual to you?”

Your heartbeat gallops behind your ribs.

“I thought-,” You manage, “Thought that’s what you wanted.”

He’s too close, now. The dip of his head, those eyes burning in their shades of brown and gold.

“Now, why would you think that?”

You swallow, “Because you’re you, and I’m-”

“You’re?” He prompts, but you go silent.

A sigh, when your head dips.

Unable to say it out loud.

“Driving me crazy all night, you know that?” He rasps, “Giving me those looks. Calling me your friend, when we both know your mouth was around my cock this morning.”

A low rumble in his throat, “When I still taste like you.”

Your breath hitches, as his hand thumbs at your jaw, tilting it up.

“Lemme ask you again.” His mouth is close enough now to ghost against yours, “Is that how you really feel?”

Your head shakes.

“Wanna be yours.”

It’s breathed out, just as he kisses you.

His body pressing flush, as your hands twine around his neck. A palm around the back of his neck, pulling him closer as he deepens it.

Desire thrumming to life inside you, washing out the dregs of insecurity that you’ve been carrying this whole time. Melting them away completely with the hungry sweep of his tongue, the way he swallows your soft moan.

There’s a flash of white when he finally leans back, with the curve of his lips.

“Good.”

His hand closes around the knob. A rough twist, as his another arm wraps around your waist.

Walking you backwards, into the dark.

“The let me show you exactly how I feel.”

thank you so much, again!! 💖

[cherimoyatea]

Heyyy, can I request an ff where Sylus and Mc are having their intimate moment but they forgot to close the door so Luke and Kieran accidentally saw them?

Ahhh a request! Hi Annonie!

Thank you so much for trusting me with your request! I actually never saw that coming, so I'm kind of both nervous and excited at the same time!

Life has been busy recently and I didn't have much time to write but your request was spinning in the back of my head! And this was so much fun to write!

I changed my style for a more comedic route this time and kept things lighthearted, hope that's okay!

Love, Cheri 🍒

❧ Sylus - Private Surprise

Pairing: Sylus x You Word Count: 826 Tags: established relationship, comedy, suggestive content (kissing, making out, no smut tho), luke and kieran being adorkable

It's Friday night, and you have eagerly accepted your boyfriend's invitation to spend the weekend at his villa in the N109 Zone.

After a long, challenging week, the chance to spend a few days with him couldn't have come at a better time, and your heart fluttered when he picked you up to have dinner together before driving you both back to his place.

You're standing by the sideboard in his living room, about to pour yourself a drink, when Sylus suddenly appears behind you on silent toes, putting his hands on your hips.

''Mmm, I missed you, Kitten…''

He whispers in your ear, grazing it with the tip of his nose.

Slowly, the silver-haired man moves his head down your neck, gently placing soft kisses there. His touch on your skin sends a tingle through your body, and you can't help but close your eyes and tilt your neck, giving him more space as he moves down to your shoulder.

''S-Sylus… Luke and Kieran will be here anytime soon.''

You stutter nervously while his hands move to the hem of your shirt, slowly sliding beneath the fabric to find the soft skin of your stomach, a smirk forming on his lips. ''Don't worry about the twins, Sweetie. I've sent them off to pick something up for me—they'll be busy for a while.''

Even though your pulse is racing with excitement, you set your glass back on the sideboard and turn around with a teasing smile, crossing your arms to appear nonchalant. ''Oh! So this is the surprise you mentioned earlier? I see…''

''No Kitten…'' Sylus replies with a smug grin, unfazed by your cheeky attitude. Even though you are pretending to be indifferent, your flushed face gives you away. With one swift move, he lifts your hips and places you on the sideboard, stepping between your thighs as he spreads them with his strong hands. ''...the surprise is yet to come.''

The red-eyed man leans closer, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss before hungerily sliding his tongue out, inviting himself into your mouth. A soft gasp escapes your lips as you willingly let him in and wrap your arms around his neck, returning his kiss passionatly.

Lost in the heat of the moment, you don't hear the front door being opened and steps echoing in the hallway, coming closer…

''Boss, the address turned out to be wrong. We-''

You both startle and your heads swivel toward the voice when the door swings open and Luke and Kieran enter the living room, suddenly freezing in their movements as their eyes meet you and Sylus.

Obviously caught in a very intimate moment.

''O-Oh shit!! Boss?! MC??'' Kieran squeaks, while Luke throws his hands over his mask in an attempt to cover his eyes. Shrill screams echo through the huge villa, and Sylus raises an irritated eyebrow, unsure who's louder—the twins or you!

Panicked, the young men try to escape the awkward situation by running off, but Kieran stumbles over a pouf, grabs Luke's arm, and causes both of them to trip and fall to the floor instead.

''Waaah, my eyes, my eeeyes!'' Luke whines, rubbing his hands frantically on his mask, while Kieran tries to gather himself from the floor, still paralyzed by embarrassment.

The twins feel like they just walked into their parents!

''Argh, enough now!'' Sylus snarls and pulls away from you, giving you space to quickly jump off the sideboard and hide behind his large form so you can fix your disheveled state. With a single motion of his hand, the twins are swiftly thrown out of the living room, the door slamming shut behind them with a loud bang.

''N-Noo…!'' You cover your face with your hands in embarrassment, feeling the heat flood your cheeks.

Why didn't you lock the damn door?

''I'll never be able to face them again!'' You whine, wishing the ground would open up beneath you and swallow you whole.

Sylus lets out an amused huff and gently grips your wrists, pulling it away from your flushed face to look at you. ''I feel like the twins aren't any better, Kitten.''

The next morning, the twins are nowhere to be seen when you and Sylus have breakfast in the dining room. And even for the rest of your stay, there is no sign of them, anywhere.

Once you're back home, you find a small gift basket on your doorstep, filled with your favorite sweets, flowers, and plushies. As you approach, you catch a glimpse of two shadows hiding around the corner of your stairway, watching you closely from afar.

Pretending you didn't see them, you pick up the basket, fish for the note inside, and chuckle as you read it silently:

''Sorry MC! We won't tell anyone! Promise!

xoxo, Luke and Kieran

p.s.: Luke has serious questions about the 'sideboard moment' but don't worry, he's too embarrassed to ask.

p.p.s.: Next time, maybe a 'Do Not Disturb' sign?"

Thank you for reading!

Cheri 🍒

[dilf-rot]

Hot Summer - MDNI 18+

TAGS: Wolverine x Reader, Logan Howlett x Reader, Logan has a knot, idc if wolverines are not a canid species I’m doing my best ok, Femme Reader, Friends to lovers sort of deal, Mentions of rut / heat, maybe a little feral?, also im giving this bitch fangs because he should have them, smut with very little plot, creampie, helping a horny mutant in need, PinV, oral (fem receiving) ((for like 1 moment)), marking / hickeys / scratching, this is literally just smut with minimal plot

WORD COUNT: 2560

A/N: Hey, remember when I asked if you would still love me if I wrote Logan with a knot? Yeah well here it is, may it comfort you in this terrible world <3 

If you enjoy my work consider sending me a tip at https://ko-fi.com/rotwrites  (Not required by any means, writing requests are still free!) 

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The summer at the institute was always a little boring, or even very boring. You were one of the few students who hadn’t made plans and ended up stuck in the mansion, doing mindless tasks and trying to not be bored out of your mind. It was mostly empty, and as you walked the halls, you hardly even noticed the change in atmosphere. It had just been you, Charles, and a few other kids that would pop up every now and then. So, you were rather surprised when you rounded the corner and saw him standing there. 

“Logan,” You call, and he turns to look at you. Your breath catching in your throat as you take in the sight of him, sweaty and a little dirty from whatever he had been doing. “I thought you were out for the summer?”

“Yeah, was. Chuck called me back, gotta fix up some things.” He looks you over, and smiles, the flash of his sharp canines sending flutters right through your stomach. 

“Oh, well it’s good to see you.” You try not to stare, wondering if he has somehow gotten even more alluring in his brief absence. The length of your shorts, and thin fabric of your tank making you feel much more bare now than before. “I’ll let you get back to it,” 

“Thanks, doll. We’ll catch up when I’m done.” Something in his voice feels different, but you try not to focus on it as you head over towards the kitchen. He did look rather good, maybe even more than he usually did. Though you had been trying desperately not to think of him in that way, to preserve one of the few friendships you had built here. But the image of him dripping in sweat, in a dirt stained beater and jeans that were tight in all the right spots. That image would make things harder for sure. The thoughts of his teeth sliding along your neck, his rough hands clinging to your hips. 

You pushed those thoughts down as best as you could and decided you would attempt to read, lounging in the corner of the kitchen, book in hand. Your eyes flicking across the pages, barely absorbing the words, just trying to give yourself a reasonable distraction. You weren’t sure how long you had been doing this before Logan had made his way into the kitchen. 

“Reading?”

“Barely-” you laugh, but are briefly silenced when you look up to see Logan, shirtless. He has his dirty tank in his hand, using it to wipe the sweat from his brow. It wasn’t even that hot out for the season, and yet he was somehow soaked in sweat. You couldn’t imagine the work Charles had him doing to be that strenuous. 

“Oh yeah? Something on your mind?” He loops the fabric of the tank through one of his belt loops and walks over to the fridge. 

“Uh-” You can’t help the way your mind practically goes blank as you watch him. He’s taken a beer from the very back of the fridge and popped the cap off on the edge of the counter, hopefully he hadn’t chipped it or that would be another thing to add to his list of repairs. 

“You want one?” He references the drink in his hand, you nod and stand up from your chair. Whatever book you were reading was quickly forgotten and left on the floor. You stand next to him leaning against the counter as he opens the beer for you and hands it to you. He must’ve bought them and hid them in the back of the fridge whenever he had gotten back to the mansion, cause you couldn’t recall seeing any in there for the past few months. 

As you take the beer from him your fingers brush against his, and as if he had been shocked he flinches. His eyes are dark as he looks down at you. He grits his teeth and tries to regain his composure, but you can tell something is going on. You step closer to him, your hip almost touching him. He leans down towards you, as if he was going to tell you a secret.

You want to turn your face towards his, to swallow him up in a kiss, to beg him to tell you what he was thinking. But as he moves closer to you, you find yourself paralyzed.

“You smell good,” he breathes in, his face inches away from your neck.

“So do you…” You turn your head to avoid his gaze. He smells better than usual. Something about the smell of sunshine, dirt, and whatever sawdust or debris had been falling onto him made you want to reach out and grab him, but before you could, he corners you. Your back against the counter, his hands finding your hips and effortlessly lifting you on top of the counter. He presses himself against you. You're caged in by his large arms, the muscles taut and glistening.

His face against your neck, his teeth almost brushing against your skin. His rough fingers digging into your hips. The fabric of his jeans rubbing up against your thighs, now wet from his sweat and your sudden excitement.

“Logan-” you whine, practically trembling, and he seems to remember himself.

“Sorry, doll.” He steps back and looks you over, a devious glint in his eye. Without another word he is gone from the kitchen. You are unsure of what to do, or what even was happening but eventually follow him.

He has resigned himself to his room, and you can hear him pacing back and forth behind the door. You knock gently and the sounds stop. He opens the door just a crack, he seems even sweatier and disheveled from when he had found you in the kitchen. His eyes piercing and intense, his pupils blown wide, his breath slow and shaky. 

“Logan, are you alright?”

He grunts in response, shaking his head. 

“What’s wrong?” 

He looks you over, and opens the door wider. You step inside and he quickly shuts the door. He looks even wilder than he had in the kitchen, still shirtless, only in his jeans. Which you try not to make note of the very large and obvious bulge in the crotch. His hair is messy and disheveled, you imagine he had been running his hands through it as he was pacing around.

“Logan?” You walk towards him and he makes a strangled sound. “Are you feeling ok?”

When he turns towards you, your heart races and your breath catches in your throat. He looks so pathetic. Rendered down to some poor animalistic creature. He walks slowly towards you, and when he is a mere step away he grabs your hands and pins them up above you, your back pressed against the door. 

“You should go,” He growls into your ear as he brushes his nose against your jaw. “Too dangerous for you to be in here.”

“Why? You’re not gonna hurt me,” You lean into his touch, resting your head against his.

“Might,” He drops your wrists and tries to step away, but you follow. Keeping the gap between you as small as possible. He groans as you run your hands along his arms, trying to be gentle and encouraging so that he may tell you what’s going on. Before you can ask, he takes one of your hands and slides it underneath the waistband of his pants. 

Your eyes widened as you feel the weight and heat of his cock in your hand. You curiously push your hand down more and feel a swollen bulb at the base of it. Oh. 

Oh. 

Now you understood. You had at some points wondered just how animalistic his mutation was, but now you got it. Late summer was a rather common breeding season for a variety of mammals and it seems as if Logan was one of them. 

“Let me help you,” You slide your fingers up the length of him, tracing the prominent vein on the underneath of the shaft.

“Don’t think that’s a good idea,” He shudders as you wrap your fingers around his cock.

“Why not?” You smile up at him, and you feel him straining to not thrust up into your hand.

“You might regret it.”

“I don’t think so,” you lean up so that your lips are nearly brushing his, and his restrain snaps.

He closes the distance and practically devours you, kissing you rough and desperately. 

It was as if a fire had been reignited within him and he could do nothing to put it out. His hands grasping and clawing at you, wrapping his arms around your waist and squeezing you tight against him. His lips leaving frenzied kisses against your jaw and neck, his teeth grazing the soft skin and his tongue soothing the small marks left in their wake.

He lifted you easily, dragging the both of you towards the bed where he tossed you down against the mess of sheets and pillows. His hands running along the curvature of your body, as if removing himself from you would cause him great pain. His face was wild, that of a crazed man who finally had found whatever he had been searching for.

You were utterly breathless and your heart beat rang in your ears loud as could be. He makes quick work of your clothes, tossing them off somewhere, his hands hardly leaving your body for more than a few seconds. He drags himself away from you for just long enough to find himself kneeling in front of you, pulling you down to the edge of the bed, your legs resting on his shoulders, his head between them, looking up towards you with the most pathetically hungry expression you could have ever imagined.

“You’re sure doll?” His voice is strained and rough. 

You nod, your hands finding their way to tangle in his hair to softly encourage him to continue. He growls and presses his lips to your inner thigh, kissing the soft skin and taking the flesh into his mouth to nibble and bite at. Trailing up and down the length of each thigh, relishing in the small whines and moans leaving your mouth as he decorates your delicate skin with marks. Feeling satisfied that you were now his in this moment, he brings his attention to the aching spot between your thighs, dragging his tongue up through your folds to lap and suck upon your clit. The feeling electric and mind numbing. He slides his tongue along your clit in sloppy circular motions, sucking it in gently, generating small whimpers from you. He growls as he hungrily slurps you up, his patience growing thin as he becomes entirely enveloped in your scent. 

He pulls away from you, a small whine leaving your lips as you sit up and rest on your elbows to watch him. He quickly kicks off his pants, and you gasp when you see him. The tip of his cock is red with need and practically dripping. You feel a bit more intimidated now as you stare wide-eyed at the bulb throbbing at the base of his cock. You could only pray that it would fit. 

Logan smirks and hovers over you, caging you in with his large arms. “Having some regrets, princess?”

“No,” you lift your hips up to shamelessly rub yourself against his erection and he groans. One hand moving down your body to roughly grab your hip pushing you down into the mattress. He slides his cock between your wetness, your breath hitching when the head of his cock bumps against your clit. Your arousal coating him, the slick wet noises make your head spin. 

“Please,” You whine. He presses the tip against your entrance and you try to lift your hips closer to him, begging for it to slide inside. Your breath hitching when it finally does. He moves painfully slow, the drag of his cock slowly stretching you out. A sort of burning rising in your stomach as you strain to be closer to him.

“So desperate,” He huffs, wrapping an arm around you and holding you close against him as he bottoms out. Your whines make his heart ache. “I’ve got you princess, I’m right here.”

You claw at his shoulders, his arms, his back, anything you can reach. The knot at the base of his cock pressing into you, you feel like you could break. Heat spreading over your entire body. You can’t get close enough. You want him to devour you. To take what he needs and worry about you later, but he’s being so gentle that it makes your eyes water. 

His pace stays slow, once he feels you relax, he pulls himself back before pressing in again. Slow, deliberate, patient. He watches your face as you try to play tough, acting like you can handle it despite your trembling. When you flutter around him and a broken moan falls from your mouth he falters.

“I don’t think I can be gentle for much longer,” He whispers against your neck, kissing right below your ear.

“So don’t be,” your whimper flips a switch in him. He would have preferred your first time together to be different than this, to be softer and sweeter. To be kinder to you. But when you beg to help him, and try to take him so good, he can’t help himself. 

He barely hesitates before his pace quickens, and the sheer force of his movements is enough to make your brain fuzzy and dumb. The headboard smacking into the wall with every rough movement, the bed frame creaking beneath you. You’d feel bad about all the noise if you were in any position to feel anything other than Logan ruthlessly fucking you. 

His cock stretches you in such a way that each thrust presses against that sweet spot inside you. The knot at the base pressing against your clit. The slap of it sends little waves of pleasure throughout your body. His pace hardly falters, as you grip onto his arms, your legs tightly wrapped around his waist, desperately trying to take it. To help him through it. Wanting him to use you and be satiated. 

“Fuck, that’s a good girl,” he groans as he feels you tighten around him. You tremble and whine, shaking as your orgasm takes over and you can hardly think of anything as his motions begin to falter too. 

He shudders as he pumps into you, his ruthless pace being diminished into small quick thrusts. You groan as you feel the knot slip in, and he cums. You feel so utterly full as more and more cum is spilled into you. So much so that it’s dripping down onto the mattress beneath you. Your eyes rolling back in your head, and you can feel drool leaking from your open mouth. Your body feeling limp, you can hardly manage to keep your eyes open and steady enough to look at Logan. He seems hardly affected. 

“We’re gonna be here a while, Doll. Don’t get tired on me already,” Logan grins, pressing his lips against your neck and you shudder as you feel his sharp canines graze the sensitive skin.

At least the rest of your summer would be far from boring. 

[amirasainz]

Hey could you maybe write sister leclerc in Mexico and Alex taking her to her favorite places

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo babygirl 💕

One day in Mexico

The sun was warm as it kissed the cobblestone streets of Mexico City, and Alexandra took a deep breath, soaking in the vibrant energy that surrounded her. She glanced over at Yn, who was looking around with wide eyes, her face full of excitement and curiosity. Alexandra couldn’t help but smile—she’d been waiting for this moment ever since she and Charles had invited Yn to join them for the Mexico GP.

"Ready, Yn?" Alexandra asked, nudging her lightly.

"Yes!" Yn's voice bubbled with excitement, her eyes glimmering. "Where are we going first?"

"First stop: the markets," Alexandra said, winking. "I want to show you the real Mexico City."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As they walked through the buzzing local market, Alexandra took the lead, navigating the stalls packed with colorful textiles, handmade jewelry, and fresh produce. Yn gasped, stopping to look at a stall filled with woven blankets in bright reds, blues, and yellows.

"This is amazing, Alex! It’s so vibrant here," Yn said, eyes wide as she took in the colors and scents surrounding her.

Alexandra chuckled, noticing how Yn was captivated by everything she saw. "I told you! The markets here are just incredible. And trust me, it’s even better when you try the food." She leaned closer, lowering her voice to a whisper. "Want to try some authentic street tacos?"

Yn grinned. "Lead the way!"

They made their way to a small taco stand, where the delicious aroma of fresh tortillas filled the air. Alexandra ordered two tacos each, explaining the toppings and sauces to Yn, who eagerly took her first bite.

"Oh my God, Alex," Yn said, her eyes widening with delight as she savored the flavors. "This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted!"

Alexandra laughed. "Welcome to Mexico, where the food is life-changing." As Yn continued eating, Alexandra snapped a candid photo of her, capturing her joy. Yn didn’t notice, too absorbed in her taco.

After they finished their food, Alexandra took Yn to a jewelry stall. Yn was drawn to a delicate silver bracelet with tiny turquoise stones embedded in it.

"Try it on," Alexandra encouraged, reaching out to help Yn clasp it around her wrist.

Yn looked down, admiring it with a shy smile. "It’s so beautiful. I think Charles would love to see this."

"Oh, don’t worry," Alexandra said, smirking as she snapped another photo of Yn admiring the bracelet. "I’m making sure he gets all the highlights from today."

Yn blushed, laughing. "Are you secretly photographing me, Alex?"

"Maybe." Alexandra winked. "Can’t help it—you look too cute."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Their next stop was the Frida Kahlo Museum. As they stepped inside, Yn’s eyes sparkled with wonder. She walked slowly, taking in the vibrant colors and personal artifacts that filled Frida’s old home. Alexandra watched her closely, pleased to see Yn so enchanted.

“Frida was such an icon,” Alexandra whispered as they stood before one of her famous self-portraits. “She lived fiercely, even when things got tough.”

Yn nodded, looking thoughtful. “I think I get it now. She put so much of herself into her work… It’s like she was sharing her soul.”

Alexandra put a hand on Yn's shoulder, smiling softly. “Exactly. Just like you—you have that same spirit, Yn.”

Yn blushed, her cheeks a soft pink. “Thanks, Alex. That really means a lot.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that afternoon, they wandered over to a small plaza filled with mariachi music and laughter. Yn was taking it all in, her face lit up with delight as she watched couples dancing and vendors selling colorful souvenirs. Alexandra was trying to snap another picture of her when a young man approached them, clearly intrigued by Yn.

“Hola, señorita,” he said smoothly, giving Yn a charming smile. “You look as beautiful as a sunset in the Mexican sky. Are you visiting?”

Yn’s face turned an even deeper shade of pink, and she stammered, “Uh, yes… Just for a few days.”

Alexandra stepped back, hiding a grin as she watched Yn struggle to respond to the young man’s flirtation. She crossed her arms, staying close but allowing Yn to have the moment.

“You must let me show you around then,” the young man continued, his smile never wavering. “There’s so much to see, and someone like you deserves the best tour.”

Yn bit her lip, looking flustered but flattered. “Oh, thank you. That’s… very kind of you.”

Alexandra finally stepped forward, placing a gentle but protective hand on Yn’s shoulder. “Sorry to interrupt,” she said, giving the young man a polite smile, “but we’ve got a busy day ahead of us. Maybe some other time?”

The young man nodded, looking slightly disappointed but respectful. “Of course. Enjoy your visit, señorita.”

Yn turned to Alexandra as soon as he walked away, her face still red. “Alex! I had no idea what to say! I’ve never been flirted with like that.”

Alexandra burst out laughing, pulling Yn into a quick hug. “You handled it well! But don’t worry—I had your back the whole time.” She pulled out her phone, flashing Yn a series of photos. “Look at you, totally flustered and adorable!”

Yn gasped. “You took pictures of that?!”

“Of course!” Alexandra grinned. “I have to send these to Charles. He’ll love them.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the day wound down, they found a quiet café and sat down to enjoy some churros and hot chocolate. Yn sighed, looking out over the city with a contented smile.

“Today was incredible, Alex. Thank you so much,” she said, reaching over to squeeze Alexandra’s hand. “I feel like I got to see the real Mexico.”

“Anything for you, Yn,” Alexandra replied softly, squeezing her hand back. “We're sisters now, and I’ll always look out for you.” She took one last photo of Yn, who was smiling as the warm sunset cast a golden glow on her face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That evening, back at the hotel, Alexandra and Yn found Charles in the lobby, waiting for them with an eager smile. He stood up, pulling Yn into a hug.

“Did you have a good day with Alex?” he asked, his eyes soft with affection.

“The best day,” Yn replied, smiling up at him.

Alexandra beamed, pulling out her phone. “You have no idea, Charles. I took so many photos of your sister today—look.” She handed him the phone, scrolling through the images of Yn laughing, eating, admiring the bracelet, and even looking flustered after the guy flirted with her.

Charles looked up, an amused smile playing on his lips. “You really captured everything.”

“Oh, yes,” Alexandra said proudly, leaning her head on Yn’s shoulder. “Yn’s my baby now too.”

Yn laughed, rolling her eyes. “You’re embarrassing me!”

Charles chuckled but paused when he saw the picture of the guy talking to Yn. “Wait…who’s that?”

Yn and Alexandra exchanged a glance, both trying to stifle their laughter.

“Oh, that’s just a guy who flirted with Yn,” Alexandra said casually, unable to hide her amusement.

Charles’s eyes widened, his face shifting into a look of pure, older-brother protectiveness. “What?! Someone flirted with you?!”

Yn giggled, nudging him playfully. “Relax, Charles! Alexandra was there the whole time.”

Alexandra smirked, giving him a reassuring pat on the arm. “I kept her safe, don’t worry.”

Charles shook his head, exasperated but laughing as he pulled them both into a hug. “You two are going to drive me crazy.”

Yn looked at Alexandra, both of them grinning, as Charles sighed dramatically.

“Totally worth it, though,” Alexandra whispered, giving Yn a wink.

[rootedinrevisions]

Five Years

SUMMARY: Five years of friendship. Years of silent longing. One night that changes everything. When Tyler Owens, a charming, rugged man with a penchant for keeping things casual, finds himself at a crossroads with the woman he's secretly loved for years, he realizes he might have waited too long. After one too many moments where you've been left wanting more, you find yourself torn between the comfort of their deep connection and the pain of being stuck in the friend zone. Tyler has one last shot to show you that he’s not just the man you turn to in the hard moments—but the man who can make you believe in love, again.

A/N: Sorry for all the angsty Tyler lately! It's just been the mood/vibe lately so I've been rolling with it! Thanks to the person who sent this request in! I hope you like it!

PROMPT: "What was he doing back there? Flirting with you like he has a fucking chance?"

WARNINGS/TAGS: Angst.

WORD COUNT: 5.6k

TAG LIST: SEE COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Below are the fandoms I currently write for.

Glen Powell (himself and the characters he's played)

Top Gun: Maverick (Hangman, Rooster, possibly others soon)

Marvel / MCU (Bucky Barnes as of now, but possibly others soon)

WWE / Wrestling

It’s late, the kind of quiet that comes when the night has softened everything into shadows. You and Tyler are back in the motel room, tangled together in bed like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His arm drapes over you, and you’re curled into his side, your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing. The scent of whiskey lingers between you, mingling with the warmth of his skin, and you can still taste him faintly on your lips. Another night, another round of kisses exchanged under the dim motel lights, like something fragile and fleeting.

He stirs, his hand brushing along your back, and you wonder if he’s on the edge of sleep or just drifting in that space in between like you are. For a moment, you’re tempted to ask him the question that’s always on the tip of your tongue: What are we doing?

Instead, you stay silent, breathing in sync with him, wondering if he can feel the way your heart skips each time he holds you like this. He shifts, drawing you a little closer, and you catch a glimpse of something in his expression—something soft, maybe even vulnerable. But it’s gone as quickly as it came.

“Hey,” he murmurs, his voice low and slightly slurred. “You’re comfortable, right?” His hand rests at the curve of your hip, fingers grazing your skin in a way that sends a shiver through you.

You nod, managing a quiet, “Yeah. Always.” You know he’ll pretend he doesn’t remember this in the morning, brush it off like it’s nothing, and you’ll let him because it’s easier that way. But tonight, you can pretend a little too—that these quiet moments mean the same to him as they do to you.

You close your eyes, listening to his heartbeat beneath your ear, wondering how much longer you can keep pretending before you’re forced to admit the truth—to yourself, if not to him.

Then, out of nowhere, he says, “So… I just found out I’m being inducted into the PBR Hall of Fame.”

You blink, lifting your head from his chest to look at him. A smile lights up your face. “Tyler, that’s amazing! I mean, I knew you were a big deal, but… Hall of Fame?”

He chuckles softly, scratching the back of his head with that familiar modesty. “Yeah, kinda crazy, huh? Guess all those years getting tossed around finally paid off.”

You laugh, knowing he’s downplaying it. You’ve seen some of those old videos, clips of him taking on bulls with more force and heart than anyone you’d ever met. 

“No one deserves it more than you,” you say softly, feeling that familiar warmth in your chest. “I’m so proud of you.”

A faint blush colors his cheeks as he looks away, and then, clearing his throat, he glances back at you. 

“Thanks, means a lot,” he says, his voice softer. Then, after a moment, he adds, “Actually… I get a plus one to the induction ceremony. I was thinking maybe you’d want to come with me?”

Your heart skips at that. He doesn’t even pause to consider anyone else; he’s asking you. For a moment, you feel a surge of excitement that maybe this is more than just a friendly invite. But just as quickly, doubt seeps in. If he had a girlfriend, he’d take her, wouldn’t he? A familiar ache settles in your chest, the quiet reminder that maybe this is just about convenience for him.

“Are you sure?” you ask, trying to keep your voice steady, and casual. “I mean, you could take anyone.”

He glances at you with a soft smile, his eyes sincere. “Nah. Can’t think of anyone better. You’d come, right?”

The words are on the tip of your tongue—Of course, I’ll go. 

Instead, you hesitate, just for a second, wondering if this is just a placeholder invitation until he finds someone to fill the spot he’s never openly said he wants to be filled. But you can’t bear the thought of missing the moment, so you nod, managing a smile. “Yeah, I’d love to.”

He grins, pulling you back into his chest, and you settle against him, feeling the warmth of his arm around you. But even as you breathe him in, letting the steady beat of his heart calm you, a question begins to take root in your mind. Where do we really stand, Tyler?

It’s a question you keep to yourself, swallowing it down as you close your eyes and listen to the silence settle around you once again.

* * * * *

The ballroom buzzed with energy and anticipation, and you could sense the excitement radiating from Tyler beside you. The event space was elegantly decorated, with every table set with crystal glasses and gleaming silverware. But you hardly noticed any of it; all your focus was on Tyler. This was his night. And you were honored to be here with him, even if you didn’t quite know what that meant for the two of you.

You eventually found your way to your seats near the front of the room, and Tyler’s hand brushed against yours as you sat down. His fingers lingered just a moment, a subtle contact that sent a rush of warmth up your arm. 

Before you could say anything, the lights dimmed as the emcee took to the stage, announcing the start of the ceremony. The audience fell quiet, and Tyler’s hand was warm on your knee, a comforting weight that made your heart race. You glanced down at his hand, then back up to his face, wondering if he even realized the effect he had on you.

A part of you wanted to reach for his hand again, to close the gap between you both once and for all, but you stayed still, holding your breath as the ceremony began.

As the awards were announced one by one, you couldn’t help but steal glances at Tyler. He seemed to sit straighter with each name called, his eyes never leaving the stage. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the emcee announced Tyler’s name, and the room burst into applause. You clapped the loudest, your heart swelling with pride.

You watched as Tyler walked to the stage, his stride steady and confident, shoulders back with that natural charisma he carried wherever he went. When he accepted his award, he stood there with his plaque, his gaze scanning the crowd until it landed on you. The spotlight hit his face, highlighting the small, crooked smile you knew so well. And his eyes—dark, intense, focused on you—seemed to say something unspoken.

You felt your breath catch, frozen under his gaze, and for a second, it was like you were the only two people in the room.

His acceptance speech was simple and heartfelt. He thanked the people who had been there with him through the highs and lows. He spoke of long, hard days, the sacrifices he’d made, and the passion that drove him. But you could’ve sworn that when he mentioned his gratitude for “the people who kept him grounded,” his eyes found you once again.

As Tyler wrapped up his speech and made his way back to his seat, you barely had a chance to process the pride you felt for him, for everything he’d accomplished. But that brief moment when he’d looked at you on stage lingered in your mind, wrapping around you like a warm embrace. Could it have meant something more?

He sat back down next to you, and you leaned over, unable to keep the smile from your face. “That was incredible, Ty. I’m so proud of you.”

He looked at you, a soft chuckle escaping as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Thanks. I think I might’ve fumbled a little bit up there.”

“Not even close,” you replied, squeezing his arm. “You were perfect.”

The atmosphere at the afterparty was more relaxed, a contrast to the formality of the ceremony.

The room buzzes with laughter and clinking glasses, everyone here to celebrate the achievements of legends, past and present. You’re standing beside Tyler, trying to blend into the background of the room’s energy. But then, without warning, Tyler reaches for your hand, his fingers brushing yours before intertwining them completely. It’s such a small gesture, but it sends a rush of warmth through you. He glances at you, his eyes searching yours for a brief moment, almost as if he’s silently asking if this is okay, if you’re okay. You squeeze his hand, hoping he’ll understand that, yes, this is more than okay.

“Come on, there’s someone I want you to meet,” he says, his voice low and soft. He leads you through the crowd toward a man with a broad smile and lines etched deep around his eyes—Tyler’s old mentor. Tyler introduces you with a genuine warmth that makes you feel like you belong here, like you’re not just an accessory to his big night but someone he wants by his side.

As they begin chatting, Tyler’s hand drifts to your waist, his fingers pressing lightly into your hip as he pulls you closer, fitting you against his side. You feel a warmth blossom in your chest, and for a moment, the nagging doubts you’d been harboring vanish. His mentor jokes about old times, and Tyler laughs, giving your waist a small squeeze as if to share the moment with you. You let yourself lean into him, letting his warmth melt away the walls you’d tried to build around your heart.

But then, as the conversation comes to a close, he lets go. Just like that, his hand falls from your waist, and he takes a step back, sliding his hands into his pockets, a casual smile on his face. He glances around the room, no longer focused on you, and the sudden distance sends a chill down your spine. You’re standing side by side, but the connection feels fractured, like a missed beat. He begins walking next to you, his attention now elsewhere, no hand-holding, no gentle touches to keep you close.

Half an hour later you’re standing next to Tyler, trying to stay engaged with the conversation he’s having with an old friend he used to ride with, someone who knows a side of him you’ve only heard about in stories. Tyler’s posture is easy, his laugh warm and unguarded in a way that you rarely get to see. You watch him as he reminisces, letting yourself get lost in the sound of his laughter, in the way his eyes light up with a spark of the past. But as they continue to talk, it becomes clear that he’s in his own world, like you’re not even there.

The laughter between them grows, each memory shared drawing them further back into the years before you knew him. You shift your weight, feeling a slight ache in your chest as you realize just how separate you feel from this part of his life. A sense of loneliness creeps in, one you can’t shake, and you find yourself glancing toward the bar. Maybe a drink will help dull the sting.

You start to turn, your heart heavy, but just then, you feel Tyler’s hand reach out, his fingers wrapping gently around yours. The touch is so familiar, so comforting, and for a brief second, that hopeful warmth flickers back to life. 

You glance over your shoulder, catching his eye, a hint of something unreadable there.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice quieter, as if trying to break through to you despite the noise around.

You swallow, forcing a smile to cover the twinge of sadness that’s growing in your chest. “Yeah,” you say softly, nodding toward the bar. “Just thirsty. Thought I’d grab a drink.”

He nods, giving your hand a slight squeeze before letting go, turning back to his friend with that easy laugh that now feels like a barrier you can’t quite cross. You turn away, your heart sinking as you walk toward the bar, feeling the absence of his hand like a chill creeping over your skin. You can’t help but feel a pang of disappointment that settles heavy and cold. Just moments ago, he was intertwining your fingers, holding you close with his hand on your waist, like you were more than just a companion for the night.

How did it change so quickly? How did he go from holding you, grounding you with those intimate touches, to leaving you in this limbo of almost but not quite? You realize that, despite how much he means to you, there’s a line between you that he doesn’t seem ready to cross. And that thought hurts more than you want to admit.

You’re leaning against the bar, lost in thought, when a voice breaks through the noise, smooth and warm. “Hey there. You look like you could use some company.”

You glance up to find a guy with a charming grin and a relaxed confidence that’s instantly disarming. He extends a hand. “Eli Vastbinder,” he says. “I don’t think we’ve met.”

For a moment, you’re taken off guard, but you shake his hand and introduce yourself, motioning to where Tyler’s standing in the distance. “I’m here with Tyler Owens.”

At the mention of Tyler’s name, a flicker of something—maybe disappointment, maybe surprise—crosses Eli’s face before he recovers his smile. “Owens, huh? How do you know the Tornado Wrangler?”

You can’t help but laugh at the nickname, feeling some of the tension ease as you explain. “We work together. I help him run his YouTube channel.”

Eli’s gaze shifts from Tyler back to you, a curious glint in his eye as if he’s sizing up the situation. He doesn’t linger on it for long, though, before flashing you a daring smile. “So, just coworkers, huh? In that case, you wouldn’t mind if I bought you a drink?”

The question lingers, sparking a twist of hesitation in your chest. You glance over at Tyler, hoping for some kind of sign, some acknowledgment of what you’re feeling. Your eyes meet his, and he offers you a casual smile before turning his attention back to his friend. The moment leaves you cold—another reminder of all the times he’s pulled you close, only to leave you feeling as if you’re just out of reach.

You turn back to Eli, a decision settling in your mind. Tyler isn’t claiming you. He never has. And he’s had five years to do so.

You give Eli a small smile. “Sure, why not?”

Eli’s grin widens as he orders your drink, leaning in just slightly as he asks about your work with Tyler. He’s charming, effortlessly making you feel seen and appreciated. There’s a warm intensity in his gaze, like he’s genuinely interested in hearing about your life, in learning the pieces of you that Tyler seems to take for granted. You laugh at his jokes, leaning in as he tells stories about the crazy things he’s seen on the road. Every so often, his hand brushes yours, sending a little thrill through you—like something you haven’t allowed yourself to feel in far too long.

It doesn’t take long for you to feel the weight lifting from your shoulders. There’s no ambiguity with Eli; his attention is clear, unburdened by mixed signals or unspoken boundaries. It’s refreshing, exciting, even, to be the center of someone’s focus without second-guessing their intentions.

You glance over at Tyler once more, but he’s still wrapped up in conversation, seemingly unaware of the ache you’ve carried alone. A part of you wants him to notice, to see what’s happening, to finally feel the urgency you’ve held onto for years. But there’s another part of you that’s finished waiting.

As you turn back to Eli, you find yourself smiling, the kind of smile that feels like letting go.

You’re laughing at something Eli just said, a relaxed warmth in your chest that’s been missing around Tyler lately, when you feel a familiar presence behind you. You glance back, and there he is—Tyler, wearing that easy smile that’s disarmed you a hundred times before. He leans close, his hand slipping around your waist, fingers warm and possessive against your hip. “Hey there, darlin’,” he greets, the pet name rolling off his tongue as naturally as the smirk tugging at his lips.

But Tyler doesn’t stop there. His gaze shifts to Eli, assessing him for a beat, and then extends a hand. “I see you’ve met my date,” he says, voice casual but with a certain edge, like a claim staked.

You freeze, glancing up at him, surprised and confused by his sudden assertiveness. Eli’s expression mirrors your own—slightly perplexed, eyebrows lifting as he takes Tyler’s hand and shakes it firmly. His eyes flicker back to you, questioning. “Date? I thought you two were just coworkers,” he remarks, eyes shifting meaningfully to Tyler’s hand, still resting on your hip.

Before you can answer, Tyler lets out a dismissive scoff, as if the notion of you two being “just coworkers” is absurd. “Coworkers?” he echoes, his hand tightening just a fraction. “Yeah, we’re a little closer than that.” He shoots a look at you that’s both playful and possessive.

You feel your blood simmer, heat rising in your chest at the presumption in his tone. As if you’re some claim he can lay when it’s convenient, without any real commitment. You step out of his grip, your voice firm as you say, “We are just coworkers.” The words come out sharper than you intend, but you don’t soften them.

Tyler’s smile falters, his brow furrowing, but you’ve already turned away, excusing yourself quickly to Eli before slipping out toward the exit.

Humiliation washes over you, prickling your skin as you push through the crowd, needing fresh air, needing space. You had been enjoying a perfectly nice conversation with Eli, feeling appreciated and even flattered, until Tyler decided to swoop in and turn the moment into something possessive and confusing.

As you reach the hallway, you feel a sharp sting behind your eyes. Tears blur your vision, and you blink them back, furious with yourself for letting Tyler get to you like this. You’re tired—tired of being in his orbit only when he wants you to be, of being treated as something more only when it suits him. Because heaven forbid another guy notices you.

The hallway is quiet, save for the soft murmur of voices drifting from the ballroom as you stand there, waiting for the elevator. The moment stretches, tense and thick, when you hear his footsteps behind you, his voice calling your name.

You don’t turn around. “Tyler… don’t.” The plea is barely above a whisper, but he ignores it, closing the distance between you, his face etched with frustration.

“What was he doing back there?” he asks, motioning down the hall toward the ballroom, his tone hard, possessive. “Flirting with you like he has a chance?”

Your heart twists painfully at his words. His tone says it all—like he assumes you’re his, like it’s obvious. Like you should know.

But you’re done with the assumptions. The words spill out before you can stop them, thick with months, years, of unspoken hurt. “And why would you care, Tyler?” Your voice cracks, and you feel the first tear slip down your cheek, quickly followed by another. “It’s not like we’re together, right? You said it yourself—we’ll never be anything more than friends. We’re just…” You falter, searching for the right words, but the truth tumbles out, raw and painful. “We’re just really close, and we make out sometimes. Nothing more.”

The weight of it hangs in the air, and you can see the impact of your words in the way his face falls, his expression softening, regretful. 

“Hey,” he murmurs, reaching out, but you shake your head, a mix of anger and sadness bubbling to the surface.

“No, Tyler.” You step back, keeping the space between you. “I’m done. I’m done with this… with you.” Your voice shakes, but the conviction is there, clear and sharp. “I’m done not being good enough. Done being yours only when you want someone on your arm or in your bed. I can’t keep doing this.” You wipe a tear from your cheek, gathering whatever strength you have left. “I’m done with everything. Our friendship. The channel. All of it.”

The elevator dings, and the doors slide open with a quiet chime. You glance back at him one last time, taking in the hurt and confusion in his eyes. 

“Go back to the party, Tyler. It’s your night. You deserve it.”

You step into the elevator, pressing the button as the doors start to close. The last thing you see before they shut is him standing there, looking lost and completely, utterly alone.

Back in the quiet solitude of the hotel room, you feel the emotions from the hallway encounter with Tyler crash over you. It’s almost overwhelming, but you shake your head, determined to focus on the immediate task. You kick off your heels and reach for the zipper at the back of your dress, letting it slide down as the gown falls in a pool around your feet. You step out of it, scooping it up to drape over the chair, and head to your bag, ready to change and leave before you can overthink it.

Digging through your clothes, you pull out the first shirt, but frustration prickles at you when you realize it’s one of Tyler’s. With an annoyed huff, you toss it on the bed. You dig deeper, pulling out another… his again. Why didn’t I pack more of my own clothes? you think bitterly, remembering that his shirts have been your usual comfort, your routine.

Finally, you find one of your own t-shirts and pull it on, then slide into a pair of jeans. You run a hand over your face, taking a deep breath to keep yourself from falling apart, and open your suitcase, methodically folding the rest of your things and stowing them away. As you pack, a plan begins to form, each step sounding clearer in your mind. You’ll finish packing, get a car downstairs to a nearby hotel for the night, and fly back tomorrow. It might be an awkward plane ride home, but you’ll put in headphones, turn away, and then… you’ll walk away from Tyler James Owens for good.

With your bag nearly ready, you look around the room one last time, eyes falling on the small pile of his things on the bed. His shirts, the ones you’ve wrapped yourself in so many times, now just reminders of all the blurred lines that never became anything real. You turn away, inhaling deeply to steady yourself, willing the resolve to carry you through whatever comes next.

You reach for the handle of your suitcase, ready to walk out of Tyler’s life for good, when the hotel room door opens behind you. Your heart races, and for a second you want to pretend you don’t notice him there, but when you turn, his expression says he’s already figured out exactly what’s happening. His eyes drop to the half-packed suitcase, then back to your face. His look of confusion shifts into something desperate.

“Please,” he says, his voice softer than you’ve ever heard it, almost raw. “Please, stay. We can talk about this. Just… don’t leave. Not like this.”

You shake your head, fighting the tears that are already building again. “Tyler, I’m done,” you say, your voice trembling. “You don’t want me, but you don’t want anyone else to have me, either. You keep me close enough to feel like there’s something between us, but it’s never anything more. It’s just not fair anymore.”

You curse under your breath, blinking hard as the tears spill over. You don’t want him to see you like this—vulnerable, broken, hurt. Swallowing back a sob, you start to walk past him, head held high even as you feel yourself shattering. Just as your hand reaches for the door, he says it. Those three words you’ve been waiting for, holding onto, for what feels like forever.

“I love you.”

It stops you cold, and you stand there, hand frozen on the doorknob, not sure if you actually heard him or if it’s just some desperate wish in your mind. But then he speaks again.

“I love you,” he repeats, his voice steady, almost pleading. “And if you love me—if you can still love me—then I’m asking you to stay and just… hear me out. But if you’re done with me, really done, and I’ve already lost you… then go.”

The silence hangs between you, thick and charged. You turn slowly, meeting his gaze, and there’s a look in his eyes you’ve never seen before. Vulnerability, sincerity, something real and unguarded. He’s finally opened himself up, given you the one thing you’ve been longing to hear, but the choice to stay or leave is yours.

Your chest tightens as you search his face, feeling the weight of all the years, the almosts, the near-misses, the longing. He stands there, his hands clenched at his sides, waiting, as if he’s holding his breath.

“You… really love me?” you whisper, the words barely audible.

“Yes,” he breathes, stepping toward you, his gaze never leaving yours. “I’ve loved you for a long time. I just… didn’t know how to show it, and I was afraid if I did, you’d walk away. But losing you… that’s the one thing I’m really afraid of.”

You take a shaky breath, looking into his eyes, feeling every bit of his honesty, and for the first time, he’s offering you everything, without conditions, without holding back. The pain and hurt are still there, but as he waits, the tears in his own eyes now, you feel something else rising to the surface—a glimmer of hope.

The words are out before you can stop them.

“I love you too,” you whisper.

Tyler steps forward, his eyes searching yours as if trying to understand the storm inside you. He reaches up, hesitantly at first, as though unsure if you’ll pull away. But when you don’t, his hands gently cup your face, his touch warm and grounding. His thumbs swipe at the tears still streaking down your cheeks, wiping them away as if he can erase all the pain he’s caused with one simple gesture.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice thick with regret. “I’m so sorry. For not telling you sooner, for not making a move sooner… for making you feel like you don’t matter. For making you cry. You deserve so much more than that.”

You’re frozen, his words sinking deep into the cracks of your heart that you didn’t even know were there. His thumb brushes along your cheekbone, a silent apology that speaks louder than anything else could.

He takes a deep breath, his voice low but sincere. “I know I’ve messed up, but I’m asking… can you give me another chance? To do it right this time? To take you on a real date, to buy you flowers, to tell the world that you’re mine… to be proud to have you by my side. I want to do this right, with you. Will you give me one more chance?”

The weight of his words hangs between you, and you feel the walls you’ve built around your heart begin to crack. He’s standing there, fully exposed, offering you everything he’s held back for so long. The room feels smaller, the air thicker as you look into his eyes, where you see nothing but vulnerability and hope.

You swallow hard, emotions warring inside you. You’ve wanted this—wanted him—to say it, to fight for you. And now that he is, you’re not sure whether to run or to stay. But as you stand there, feeling the sincerity in his touch and his words, something shifts. The hurt, the confusion, the loneliness—it all starts to unravel, replaced by a flicker of something new: hope.

You take a breath, your voice barely more than a whisper, but clear enough for him to hear. “Last chance, Owens.”

A smile tugs at the corner of his lips, but it’s softer, more relieved than triumphant. He doesn’t say anything else for a moment. Instead, he just pulls you into his arms, wrapping you in a hug that’s full of promise, the kind that says he’s never letting you go. And for the first time in a long while, you let yourself believe him.

You stand there, still in his arms, the weight of his words sinking in. The tension that had built up over the last few days—hell, the last few years—seems to fade away in that moment. Tyler’s hands are warm on your back, his arms strong around you as if he’s holding on, not just to you, but to everything that was between you two. His breath is steady, the pulse in his chest calming yours. He doesn’t let go, not yet. You don’t want him to.

For a long moment, neither of you speaks. There’s no need to. Words were said, the hurt was aired out, and now, the only thing left is the silence between you—a silence that feels like the promise of something better, something real.

He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze soft, full of regret and hope. His thumb brushes against your cheek, wiping away the last of your tears. "I meant every word," he says quietly, his voice steady but raw. "Thank you for giving me this chance."

You nod, feeling something inside you shift, finally able to let go of the heaviness that had been pulling at you for far too long. You offer him a small smile, your fingers brushing his lightly as you give him a gentle squeeze.

He exhales slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing. “Hey…” His voice is quieter now, almost like he's considering his next words carefully. "How about we skip the rest of the party downstairs? We can grab some pizza, put on a movie, just... relax in here."

You glance at him, surprised by the suggestion, but something about the simplicity of it feels perfect. You nod, the corners of your mouth lifting into a genuine smile. “Yeah. That sounds perfect.”

Tyler’s eyes light up, a grin spreading across his face. “Good. Go ahead and get comfortable. I’ll order the pizza. Whatever you want.”

You feel a sudden sense of relief wash over you. It’s not just the break from the chaos of the night, but the quiet, intimate comfort of knowing that it’s just the two of you, no expectations, no pressure. 

Tyler watches you for a moment, his smile softening as he watches you dig through your suitcase for something comfortable. You pull out a pair of sweatpants, replacing your jeans, and as you move to crawl onto the bed, he’s already a step ahead of you.

Before you can sit down, he reaches for the bottom of your t-shirt, pulling it up over your head. You freeze, giving him a confused look, about to protest. "Tyler, I’m really not in the mood—"

He cuts you off with a soft laugh, shaking his head. "Not like that," he says, his voice teasing but warm. "Trust me, I’m not asking for anything like that."

Your brow furrows slightly in confusion, but Tyler doesn’t give you a chance to dwell on it. Instead, he reaches down into your suitcase and pulls out one of the t-shirts you had tossed aside earlier—one of his shirts. He holds it out to you with a playful glint in his eyes. “Here,” he says, “put this one on instead.”

You take the shirt from him, still a little baffled. “What’s wrong with my other shirt?”

Tyler grins, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He steps closer, leaning down slightly as if he’s about to let you in on a secret. 

“Because it’s not your boyfriend’s,” he says, his voice low and almost teasing. “If you’re gonna be my girl, you wear my shirt to bed.”

A smile tugs at your lips, and you can’t help but feel a flutter in your chest. It’s the little things like this—the small gestures, the inside jokes, the way he’s already making you feel like you belong—that make the tension from earlier seem a little less heavy.

You slip the shirt on, and Tyler's eyes soften when he sees you in it, the way it fits just right, the way it looks like it belongs on you. You glance up at him as you finish adjusting it, your voice quieter now, full of warmth. “This better for you, boyfriend?”

"Yes." He grins, clearly pleased with himself. "I think you look pretty damn perfect in it."

You laugh softly, and for a moment, the weight of everything that had happened earlier melts away, leaving you with nothing but the quiet comfort of his presence. You sit down on the bed, pulling the blankets up and patting the spot beside you. "So, pizza and movies?"

Tyler nods, settling in beside you, having traded his tuxedo for sweatpants and a t-shirt. His hand finds its way to yours as he lets out a contented sigh. "Sounds like the perfect way to spend the night."

And for the first time in a long while, it feels like things are exactly where they need to be.

[itneverendshere]

Hii i love the bitchy!pogue!reader series and i would love to know how they first hooked up again, like what led them to keep going after their first night together. That's all, thx in a advance if you do it, i love your writing

the way i ran to write this lmao, thank you for the request ❤️ let's just say it wasn't planned at alll....it was fate👀

in spite of myself - drabble

pairing: bitchy!pogue!reader x rafe

you swore the first time was the last.

you were simply… curious. you wanted to figure out just how far you could push his buttons without him taking it out on you.

you got your answer. you went to that party with the sole intent of pissing him off, but you hadn’t planned on ending up in his bed—not that you’d ever complain. but that was it.

you’d gotten your taste, of course you weren't expecting to run into him so...soon.

you’d learned to play along for these little trips into kookland. your cheap dress, bought solely to get you through the gates, hugged you a little too close—but that was the point, wasn’t it? you made a show of adjusting the neckline, scanning the room with that perfected boredom.

the moment you spotted him across the room, you nearly snorted, because of course he was here.

rafe, in all his buttoned-up glory. hair slicked back like he’d asked his barber for the "douchebag deluxe," wearing a shirt that probably cost as much as your entire car. he looked so at ease among his kind, you wanted to pat him on the head and give him a treat.

bingo.

he was pretending not to see you, standing there with some stuffy old kook in khakis so aggressively white they probably had a staff meeting dedicated to their upkeep.

but you could spot it: the clench in his jaw, his fingers twitching around his glass.

honestly, it was too easy. you’d barely taken a few steps in his direction, and his grip tightened like he was trying not to crush the glass just at the sight of you.

aww. you hadn’t come here for him, but the opportunity was irresistible, how could you say no to that face?

you took your time, internally giddy at how his stiff he looked the closer you got. you let out a soft, exaggerated sigh as you finally slid up next to him at the bar, taking your time, letting your eyes glide over his shoulders and back down to those broad, broad arms.

god, look at those arms, you thought.

this idiot must curl yachts for fun. absolutely absurd.

his gaze snapped to you, “what the hell are you doing here?” he gritted out, sending a delightful shiver down your spine.

poor thing, always so snappy.

you brought a hand to your chest, going for maximum innocence.

“who, me?” you blinked, leaning in with a soft, honey-dripping sigh. “just networking with the local elite. isn’t that what i’m supposed to do if i want to ‘rise above my station’?” you savored the horror flashing across his face.

rafe looked personally offended, like you’d just announced you were taking up golf, while you let your eyes drop to the line of his shoulders, lingering just a little too long on his chest before dropping.

slowly, slowly.

his face twisted like he was in pain, and he leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest, protecting himself from the way you were very clearly undressing him with your eyes.

“cut that shit out,” he ground out, “i know what you’re doing.”

you raised an eyebrow, “doing what?” you shot him a wide-eyed, who, me? look, letting your gaze dip again. “i’m not doing anything.”

his face flushed as he hissed, “you’re doing it right now! act normal for once.”

he pulled away from you as if your pogue germs might rub off on him, but you’d seen that look on his face before.

“honestly, if you didn’t want attention cameron, maybe don’t wear that. kind of a slutty choice, don’t you think?”

his neck flushed deep red as he scowled. “excuse me?”

you shrugged, “just saying. last time, you had a lot to say about my outfit, didn’t you?”

“you’re fucking insane. leave me alone.”

you smirked, leaning closer, “oh, baby, i’ve already got what i wanted from you,” you purred. “unless, of course, you’re offering again?”

his jaw tensed, and he looked away as if even looking at you would ruin his day. but he was still here, wasn’t he?

“don’t flatter yourself. i’m done with you,” he muttered.

you shot him a wicked grin, “flatter myself?” you let out an exaggerated laugh, turning heads nearby. “i’m here on a date.”

rafe’s smirk dropped, and he cast a quick, possessive look around the room before moving his attention back to you.

“a date?” he repeated as if he couldn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth.

you nodded as you pointed toward the back, where your “date”—some poor kook with a summer tan and daddy’s credit card—stood waiting near the hors d’oeuvres table, oblivious.

“did you think i came here just for you?” you tilted your head, letting the words sting. “i don’t do repeats, country club. got what i wanted, remember?”

he looked like he was about to set the place on fire, blue eyes narrowing as he glared at your so-called date. you could sense the gears turning in his head. god, this was just too easy.

“maybe you should run along, hmm?” you said, your voice light and mocking. “can’t imagine what your country club buddies would think, seeing you all worked up over a pogue.” you flashed him a dazzling smile before tossing a wink, then spun on your heel, leaving him there seething.

you could feel his stare burning into your back as you sashayed over to your “date.” this was way too fun.

lunch was mind-numbing, but free, so you were perfectly okay tolerating the “date”—or, as you preferred to call it, the idiot with a wallet—while he droned on about his family’s fleet of yachts or some bullshit about generational wealth. you nodded along, not listening as he bragged. as if you even gave a fuck.

when he finally paused to shove more overpriced pasta into his mouth, you decided you needed a break from the snooze-fest.

“excuse me, i’ll just pop to the ladies’ room,” you murmured, batting your lashes like the good, sweet little pogue he thought he’d bagged for the afternoon. as soon as you were clear of him, you rolled your eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t get stuck.

the second you got into the quiet of the bathroom, you let out a dramatic sigh of relief, shaking your head.

what a fucking bore.

you’d honestly rather be anywhere else—well, except maybe with rafe, since he’d probably drag you back to the ninth circle of pogue-hating hell.

as you were checking your lipstick in the mirror, the door swung open, and you didn’t even need to look up to know who it was.

“um, excuse you?” you snapped, eyebrows shooting up. “i know you have a thing for following me around, but the ladies’ room? have you lost your fuckin’ mind?”

rafe didn’t answer.

he stalked forward, looking pissed as he backed you up against the sink, boxing you in without so much as a second thought. there was something about the way his forearms flexed when he did that.

ridiculous, he most likely got pumped up just pouring a glass of water.

“what the hell do you think you’re doing here?” he growled, his voice dripping with disdain.

a laugh bubbled up before you could stop it. oh my god.

you clamped a hand over your mouth, but the sound came anyway, echoing off the fancy-ass tiles. “oh my god, what the actual fuck is wrong with you?”

he leaned in even closer. “you think this is funny?”

“funny?” you snorted, crossing your arms. “it’s hilarious. i’m here for lunch. you know, food? the stuff people eat? he offered, and i like free shit. it’s that simple.”

“you’re doing this just to piss me off,” he accused.

“oh, get over yourself,” you scoffed. “you think i’m obsessed with you or something? i wasn’t even thinking about you until you came barging in here like a lunatic.” you leaned back, giving him a brazen, challenging look. “can you move, by the way? i was enjoying the break.”

his nostrils flared, but you didn’t even care. if he wanted to lose his shit, fine—he was the one who walked in here. you stared him down, totally unfazed, holding his gaze until he broke it.

“careful,” you added, your voice mocking and low. “if i didn’t know better, i’d say you were jealous. because, i gotta be honest, you look like you’re about two seconds away from—”

“shut up,” he growled, his face inches from yours, his lips brushing your ear as he spoke. “you show up here, flaunting yourself like you don’t remember exactly how last week ended, like you weren’t begging me to—”

“oh please,” you interrupted, ignoring the pleasure that traveled up your spine. “let’s not rewrite history.”

his hand gripped your cheeks, blunt nails pressing in from either side as he pulled you close, capturing your jaw to hold you still. the pressure of the squeeze pulled your pouty lips together, forcing you to look up with wide eyes.

“stop talking."

you tried to smirk around his grip, feeling the bite of his fingers, but your words came out muffled.

“what’s wrong, country club? can’t handle a little conversation?”

“just can’t help yourself, can you?”

you could hardly nod, your eyes gleaming with defiance as you let out a small, mocking hum of agreement.

his hands slid down from your cheeks to cradle your jaw, fingers firm as his mouth pushed against yours. you giggled into the kiss, entirely too pleased with yourself as you tangled your fingers into his hair, pulling until he groaned.

“this is the last time,” his voice was ragged against your lips, but the words sounded half-hearted, he was trying to convince himself.

you smirked, pulling back just enough to catch your breath, tilting your head to test him, see if he’d let you go. instead, his hand was already sliding up your neck, his thumb tracing the line of your lips, holding you right there.

“you think you’re so clever, don’t you?” he whispered, breathless. “think you can just look at me like that, say whatever you want…”

“who says i can’t?” you purred, lips brushing against his as you taunted, “if you don't want this, maybe you should go.”

his grip tightened, a curse slipping past his pretty lips, streaked with the deep red of your lipstick, glossy with both your spit.

and fuck, did he look good like that—disheveled, unguarded, his face painted with your lipstick like a silent confession of just how far he’d let himself go with you despite his fucked morals.

rafe let out a shaky breath, his forehead resting against yours as he muttered, “last time, swear to god.”

[hannieehaee]

I know your request are closed but I just wanna send this before I forget 😓 (sorry if you’re already being flooded with requests) but could you do Jun x actress!reader? Maybe a costars to lovers plot? They act in a romance drama and the on screen chemistry is perfect because they genuinely like each other in a romantic way.

THANK YOU SM I LOVE YOUR WORK!! ❤️

18+ / mdi

content: actor!jun, some small rivalry between jun and reader, smut, afab reader, semi-public sex, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 1710

a/n: thank you so much!!! i hope you enjoy what i came up with<33

masterlist

"are you here to practice lines again?", you asked as you opened your dressing room door to welcome jun into your private area yet again.

he gave you sheepish smile as he walked in and took a seat on the couch the two of you would usually lounge on in between shoots, "already annoyed of me?", he asked as he settled in.

you followed him, taking a seat next to him as you handed him a drink, "just rethinking how good your acting skills could be if you need to go over the lines so often," you responded in jest.

"oh, is that how it is?", he gaped at you, giving you that big smile he always reserved for you.

it had only been a few months since you'd met jun. after being cast as the leading couple in a long-awaited chinese drama, you quickly became good friends. you were already well known for your good chemistry with one another, leading the drama to a renewal halfway through the first season.

being jun's costar was the easiest thing you'd ever done. he was an easygoing guy (easy on the eyes too), and just overall extremely likable. you didn't want to get your hopes up, but you liked to believe that he found you just as likable, considering how often he sought you out.

jun had grown a tendency of stopping by your dressing room every day after filming with the excuse of going over lines for the following day. this usually meant staying on set a little later than anyone else, but you enjoyed the company too much to ever even think of complaining. the overtime was completely worth it if it meant spending a little extra alone time with wen junhui.

there was a slight huge chance that the romance you'd been portraying on screen had begun making its way onto real life. you didnt want to get your hopes up, but if jun's flirtatious demeanor was anything to go by, you were pretty sure the feeling was mutual.

there was truly no need for jun to stop by and go over his lines with you outside of official rehearsal hours — especially considering that he had been acting since infancy. you liked to believe that he simply liked the alone time with you and wanted to keep you to himself for as long as he could. you only hoped he would eventually ask you out for real, or else you'd have to take matters into your own hands.

"show me your acting skills, then, wen," you challenged, gesturing at him to get closer to you on the couch.

with a smirk, he scoot over, taking hold of the stacked up pile of papers on the coffee table in front of you which contained the script.

"what do you want to start with?," he asked, "the confession scene from the twelfth episode?", he began listing off scenes, "the big conflict on episode ten?", then his grin grew bigger, "or the sex scene for the season finale?"

"please," you scoffed, "no way you can start with the sex scene. you've never done any sex scenes before, wen. i have," you challenged.

it was true. despite his history as an actor, he had never engaged in any explicit roles before. this did not diminish him as an actor, nor did you actually believe he'd have any trouble getting the mood right for the scene, but riling him up was just far too enticing. it was also one of the only areas where you had more experience than him, having done roles that involved such scenes a few times already.

"what, you think i can't make a convincing sex scene?", he fake gasped, "people always say our chemistry's unmatched, and we both know why," he smirked by the end of his statement, chuckling at your scowl.

"oh? why's that?", you challenged him.

"i exude sex appeal," he claimed, "i'd be the best sex scene you'd ever shot," he leaned towards you with a challenging look in his eyes.

"show me," you dared him, "if you're that good, show me. no script."

he swallowed a scoff, both shocked at at the defiant look in your eyes and the very sudden change of atmosphere in the room.

"you're serious?" he almost gulped at the way you reclined against the couch, allowing the angle to show him the heavy breathing that had your chest going up and down, "you want me to-"

"i wanna see if you're all talk. we haven't had any steamy kiss scenes yet, so show me. give me a preview of the season finale."

those were the last words you needed to say before he began invading your space, pushing you slowly until you were laying on the couch while he hovered over you. he was slow yet intentional in his moves, wordless as he adjusted himself on top of you.

he was slow as he lowered his lips onto yours, eyeing them heavily before closing in on you. contrary to what you'd believed, he started at full force, not bothering to build up the kiss and instead giving you all of him immediately.

the original scene involved a very slow build up with a steamy finish, so you knew within seconds that jun had thrown away any intention to actually rehearse the scene but rather prove you wrong about your assertion about his lack of expertise in the area. however, you knew that it was far more than that. the kiss felt like more than just arguing against your assessment.

you mewled into his lips when his hands went to touch you, gripping onto your waist to pull you closer and adjusting himself so he could grind his hips into your own.

"i thought i couldn't do a sex scene? whats with all those noises? i've barely touched you," his breath was warm as he chuckled against you, moving onto your neck to lay kisses there.

"shut up. this is nothing. i could do this in my sleep," you challenged.

it didn't take long for him to begin undressing you, frustrated huffs accompanying his every move. you ended up in mere panties and a bra while he remained in his boxers. far too many illicit touches and kisses were shared in between to count.

"why am i naked, wen? i thought we were just rehearsing."

"im just making sure i get my point across," he lied through his teeth, hovering over you once more in order to get the upper hand again.

"god, you're so pretty. no wonder everyone wants you in their shows," he awe'd at you as he took off your bra, hands softly touching at the uncovered skin.

"or maybe because i'm a great actress."

"yeah, but you already know that," he smiled.

"i already know that," you affirmed with a similar smile before connecting your lips again.

any pretense for rehearsing left you after that point. both your hands itched to get the other closer, finally ending up with him lined up to your cunt and with your hands pulling at his boxers, lowering them just enough to pump at his hardness.

"baby ..."

"thought you were good at this, wen. thought you were gonna show me your skills," you teased.

"shut up. i'll, fuck, i'll show you."

his hands copied your movements, sneaking beneath your panties to tease at your arousal with his fingers. his actions elicited a similar reaction from you, moaning into his mouth as you both played with each other, so close to finally connecting in that carnal way you'd been aching but not close enough.

you worked him with your hand as he did the same to you, only stopping when he huffed what sounded like a painful breath and pleaded at you to stop. you were going to laugh at him once more, tease him for his weakness at your touch, but you needed to feel him now and decided to let it go.

grabbing onto his own cock, he began running up through your swollen lips, further lubricating them with his precum and groaning at the pulse he felt under his touch.

"hmph, f-fuck," he cried into your lips upon beginning to enter you, seeking silent permission to move.

a nod from you and he began pumping into you, groaning at every single move. the stretch made your eyes roll back, making you lose your mind little by little at every thrust.

"you're tighter than i imagined, shit," he groaned.

"o-oh? you imagined this?", you couldn't help stammering when he hammered into you as he did.

"shut up," was all he said before burying his face in the crook of your neck, nose breathing you in and lips pressing onto the skin.

your nails dragged down his back, careless despite knowing you'd both get scolded by your stylists for adding to their workload. it was fine, though, you thought. this was all in the name of working on your on-screen chemistry after all, right?

but it felt like way more. jun may have fucked into you with conviction, but the words of affection murmured into your skin gave a different story.

"beautiful, fuck."

"feel like a fucking dream ..."

"prettiest, tightest cunt ive ever had."

those were some of the many words kissed and bitten against your skin. it made you so dizzy you didn't even register when your orgasm began to approach.

his hand had at some point snuck between you, toying at your swollen clit as his thrusts became erratic. the end was near and he wanted to take you down with him.

"with me? cum with me, baby," he practically pleaded as his lips found yours again.

it was like this that you swallowed each other's moans, keeping your pleasure as a secret between the two of you.

even as he filled you up, he remained inside you. he managed to sit you up, allowing for the two of you to cuddle on the uncomfortably small couch in which he'd just defiled you.

"so, no sex-appeal, huh?"

"shut up, wen. i'd run laps with you on set."

"wanna bet?", his hands began feeling up at your body with a challenging glint in his eye.

and yes. yes, you did.

[iraprince]

HI!!!!!!! i have some public comm slots left after the patron head start!!

only a few slots available but i'm not really limiting it to like, "sketch pages are sold out, i'm only taking busts" the way i have in the past; it's really just going to depend on what comes in and what i can fit well amongst my existing workload!​

as always, these are not first come first serve; i will wait a day or two, let's just go ahead and say friday, for requests to come in across timezones and then get back to people!

TO REQUEST A COMMISSION SLOT, please send an email to iraprincecommissions@gmail.com with "commission" somewhere in the subject line, and include: 1. a description of what you'd like (size/style, pose and expression if relevant, etc) 2. references 3. an email i can send a paypal invoice to

i WILL NOT RESPOND to emails that just say "hi, i'd like a commission" or "do you still have slots open," only messages that actually describe what you'd like me to draw. thank you for understanding!

thanks so much for your support and your interest!! so excited to work with you guys <3

[redflowersociety]

HEADLOCK - [Mouthwashing]

Part 1 - Part 2

It is the year 40xx: almost twenty years since what took place on the pony express cargo ship. You currently work in a space station settled right outside the dwarf planet Haphestus. While reviewing recent data of nearby free-floating objects, an abnormally large mass is located: it’s a cargo ship.

A/N: Hi! I had the idea for a… fix-it au for Mouthwashing with the inclusion of self indulgent Jimmy who takes responsibility. Generally, this is hopefully going to explore all the crew members dynamics if they survived. Basically the entire plot of the game is changed around…. So only read if you’re up for that!!

The sound of a printer buzzing and squeaking pulled your attention off the letter in front of you, and subsequently, the soreness in your chest, if only for a moment. Blinking your burning vision back into focus, you grabbed the warm papers and shifted the letter to the side, replacing its spot in front of you with the fresh inked reports. You sorted through each paper by area code, your brain pulsating at sheer amount of numbers. You rubbed at your temple as you copied down the information into a more organized spreadsheet. Once you got that done, you placed the papers into their respective folders on the wall across the room. You stood up with the hand-written spreadsheet, and exited your office, making your way down the metal corridors.

For the past 5 years, you had been the secretary of the space station settled just outside of the dwarf planet Haphestus (named for being a colony full of factories.) Your job brought along many responsibilities: The safety of the planet you guarded, and of course, filing all the data from nearby space junk to send back down to the planet. Whenever people ask what the job is like, you make a point to explain to them just how engaging it is to do the latter, making no effort to hide your sarcasm.

After a shaky knock at the door, your captain gave the okay to enter her office. “ Mx. Harold!” She greeted you with her usual polite, empty cheeriness.

“Miss. Riley, hey. Here’s the space junk data,” you spoke with less enthusiasm than you meant to, which caused an immediate jolt of panic to shoot through your body. Your hands shook as you placed the sheets onto her desk, and you knew in your gut that she noticed.

“You alright, dear?” She leaned forward in her chair, sliding the papers to the side. Her gaze was so sharp, it was as if it was shooting a bullet hole right through your face.

“I-..I’m alright, sorry, I’m just tired, drank coffee.” You swallowed, taking small, hesitant steps towards the door.

“You can tell me if something is wrong, you know.” She started to stand. Smiling.

“I’m alright, thank you.” You nearly choked on those words, having been standing there without breathing in for a considerable number of seconds. You turned-

“Sit down with me.” She stopped hiding her commands underneath the guise of a kind request. You did as you were told. Miss Riley shifted through the spreadsheets as you sat across from her for what felt like hours. Eventually, her fingertip traced down to a particular column. “You really should be more careful.” She flipped the paper to you, pointing out your mistake. You took a closer look now, having simply been copying and sorting without much thought. The object reported from the scans was unusually big, obscenely sized, and was reported to have the mass of iron.

“…Miss Riley, I just copied what I saw on the scanner reports.” you stammered, wrapping your arms protectively around yourself.

As if upset with you for having brought the information to her, she groaned, leaning back in her chair and turning her gaze to the screen on her left. As if she had seen a ghost, her eyes went large and her mouth hung slightly agape.

“…Miss Riley?”

Exploring old, decrepit cargo ships was never part of your job description. But, considering there being no protocol put in place for such a circumstance, Miss Riley found no issue in making you do it anyways. the sound of metal scraping against itself, and whirring pistons behind you made you jump. The doors were closed. You were on this ship, and had no choice but to look around all alone. You used a test strip to test for breathable air, and once confirmed, took off your oxygen helmet. The damn thing was way too heavy to walk around with.

The bright flashlight in your hand did little to soothe you in the middle of this darkness. The sheer amount of dust getting kicked up with your every step assaulted your nose and made you sneeze more times than you could count. On top of that, it blurred all that was more than five feet in front of you. For a moment, you considered putting the helmet back on.

Stepping through metal corridors with exposed pipes and circuitry, an unusual foam coating the walls in patches; the scenery, the darkness, and the silence aside from your one footsteps, created an ambiance that brought shivers up your spine. you spent a while searching- coming across various rooms.

You had to pry your way in, as the lack of power in the ship meant not a single automatic door, but when you stumbled into the medbay, the first thing that hit you was the smell of iron and rot. blood stained bandages and browned sheets on the stretcher- pill bottles, some empty and some not so much. The labels all read as some outdated pain medication. What really caught your eye was the case left ajar on the crusted stretcher. You recognized the red rim and the outline of a pistol in the foam bottom. This was an empty gun box.

dread beginning to set in, you backed out of the room, sliding back through the half-open door and into the hall. You found yourself in a communal room. It was messy; blood splatters along the table and floor, and a giant broken screen by some dusty couches. “What the fuck happened here,” You wondered aloud.

In no rush, as the fear that gathered in your stomach threatened to paralyze you from the waist down, you headed back into the halls. Eventually, under the crack of a metal door, and through its shattered glass window, was a light blue glow that was jarring compared to the darkness of the rest of the scenery.

“Is this…” you had a feeling about the contents of this room based off that familiar glow. You pried your way inside, slipping yourself through the halfway opened slit you created. In front of you was the jarringly bright shine of 5 active cryopods. The ships power must have allocated to this single room…You were sure of it. You tapped swiftly on your wrist.

“Captain… there are people in here.”

[merbear25]

Hello! Glad to see requests are open! Seeing that may I get a small thing for Zoro, Law and Mihawk. I've been having the idea of a devil fruit user reader falling into the water and needing rescuing (I'm very aware Law is also a devil fruit user but that just gives extra angst does it not). Hurt/comfort of course

Hello! Thanks for sending this in. I decided to change it a little for Law's, but I hope you like it anyway 💜💜

Even with precautions set in place, the sea was where the unexpected could happen. Whether a storm, sea monster, or battle taking place, the threat of the water was something you could never escape. Luckily, those closest to you were always prepared to protect.

CW: SFW, gn!reader, can be read as platonic or romantic, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, headcanons/scenarios, reader is a devil fruit user

If you went overboard… (Zoro, Law, Mihawk)

Zoro: He’d always been protective over those closest to him, so you were no exception. Though never overbearing, he still kept an eye on you. During times of peril, he kept you in arm's length as often as he could. You were capable—strong in your own right. However, there were dangers that automatically made you far more vulnerable. 

That day’s waters were vicious. The waves cascading over the railings gave no sign of the storm letting up. One wrong step was all it took to send you hurtling overboard. A shriek that pierced even during the hurricane-like winds sent the other hearts onboard plummeting.

Their cries for you weren’t accompanied by Zoro’s, but his action traveled faster than their worried calls. Before your limp body had the chance to sink much lower than the surface, he was there, diving in after you.

He was never short of prepared. Even when taking one of many naps, being aware of his surroundings never faltered. 

A watchful eye on everything and everyone, his friends being the ones calling for actions guided by the heart.

He wasn’t one to hound others on things they were already aware of. The unexpected should be expected, and that meant there’d be times when you were made vulnerable and in need of help, just like all the others.

Law: The sea gave no pardons to anyone. Your devil fruit abilities came with a burden that at times felt more like a curse. The calm waters the Polar Tang was cutting through turned dark as the daytime sky transformed into night. With night came more blind spots because of the abyss inevitably closing in.

A sudden wack against the side sent some of the crew members to the floor. Books flew off the shelves and the alarm sounded through the metal rooms. Red lights that blinked in urgency left split seconds of total darkness in your room. Another slam caused you to trip and miss the door handle.

Water started spouting through the cracks, and with each attack against the submarine the cracks grew in size. Your cries for help were quickly silenced by the rising water. The cold ocean held you in a tight embrace against your bedroom floor, yet offering no comfort. An immediate drop outside your room jolted you awake.

It would come as second nature. No thought, just action. You were one of the few who he considered close to him.

Rescuing you, no matter how often, came with some lectures, though. Even if it wasn’t entirely your fault, he mostly did it as a way of expressing his fear of losing someone he cared about again.

Thorough check-ups after such shocks to the system were given, even if you protested saying you were just fine.

Mihawk: Holding the title of the greatest swordsman marked him and anyone close to him as a target. The bullseye seen by the world was drifting casually through the seas, catching the rays of that day’s sun. The rippling water from an approaching ship didn’t even cause him to open his eyes. He was still enjoying the warmth of the sun, but with the supposed enemy drawing nearer, he was left with no choice but to give them even a fraction of his attention.

The captain baited Mihawk, wanting to see the swordsman’s raw power for himself, even if that meant putting his crew’s lives in jeopardy. However, Mihawk wasn’t known for being temperamental, which many of these hecklers seemed to forget. A smooth swing of his sword and their ships sank to pits of the ocean floor.

When a shot was fired at you, the bullet was sliced in mid air. Though you hung around someone whose composure didn’t break, you flinched enough for the both of you. A motion back one step too far was all it took for you to lose your footing and slip into the shackles bound to you by the devil fruit. His challengers were swatted like the pests they were before he dove in after you.

Even his lectures were articulated like advice, which you accepted without protest.

He’d insist on giving you training to help you control these impulses, albeit natural, were life threatening in the wrong situations.

That being said, he obviously knew that once you were overboard, you required his full attention. He simply wanted to offer you assistance to prevent this from happening more frequently.

[nvtstvrns]

Prettied Up - Chris Sturniolo

Smut, dom!chris, sub!fem

Summary: you and Chris are getting ready to go to dinner with Nick and Matt when he sees you doing your makeup in the mirror, he decides to eat you out while you do your makeup.

Contains: smut, sub!fem, dom!chris, oral (fem!receiver), almost getting caught, pet names (ma, pretty girl, etc)

Authors note: I am so sorry I put this story off for so long, here it is 😭

Divider Credits: @bernardsbendystraws @adornedwithlight and @cafekitsune

Chris and I were getting ready for dinner with Nick, Matt, Mikayla and Nate, we were in Boston for a few weeks and we wanted to get together with our old friends. I was standing at the mirror starting my makeup, Chris was in the shower.

“Ma, can you hand me that towel, please?” He asks me his finger pointing through the shower curtain. I walk over to the towel and I hand it to him. I quickly go back to doing my makeup, we only had twenty minutes left before we had to leave.

Chris comes behind me and wraps his arms around my stomach and he lays his head on my shoulder.

“Chris, you’re getting my clothes all wet.” I say pushing him off my slightly.

“That’s not too bad though right-“ he says hugging me from behind again. This time his hands trail to my bare waist. “Clothes will dry…” he reaches up and cups my breast.

“Chris.” I warn as I watch him run his hands all over my body in the mirror. “I’m trying to do my makeup.” I say blending out my blush trying to shake off the goosebumps. I could feel myself throbbing in need and I took a deep breath.

“You gettin all prettied up f’me?” He says as he puts on his underwear and then his pants. I grin and turn around. “Chris stop making me-“

He gets closer to me and grabs my jaw. “Stop making you what?” He says in a husky voice. My knees buckled. His grip on my jaw was light and soft but it still put a huge effect on me.

I look up at him with puppy eyes and he lets me go.

“Can I make you feel good baby…give you a little reward…”

“For what?” I ask quietly.

“You deserve it…but keep gettin prettied up for me ma.”

He gets down on his knees in front of me. This was a new thing from him, it’s always me getting on my knees for him, was he really going to make me feel good with no returns at all? I feel his hands fiddle with my button on my pants and then he unzips them, pulling them down to my ankles and then pulling them all the way off. His eyes trail up to mine and he places a soft kiss to my lower abdomen.

“Keep doing your makeup don’t watch me.” He says pulling my underwear off and throwing them somewhere with my pants. He doesn’t even hesitate, his mouth quickly attaching to my clit, I let out a gasp and I hang my head back. He taps the back of my thighs telling me to continue doing my makeup, so I do, trying to line my lips with all of this pleasure is not working, so I move on to my mascara.

“Oh my-fuck Chris…” I say as my legs begin to shake, I can’t focus on just my makeup, the image of him pumping his fingers in and out of my wet pussy while his mouth abuses my clit was way too much. “I’m gonna cum, Chris! Oh my fucking god, Chris…” I say grinding my hips on his face.

“Mmm yeah grind my face ma, cum all over me.” I continue grinding my hips reaching closer and closer to my high, with a final cry my legs jerk and I cum all over his face…luckily my makeup was fully finished, it didn’t look exactly how I wanted it to, but I did my best.

“Chris! Y/n come on! We have to leave!” Matt yells, in a daze I put back on my pants and he puts on his shirt, and puts on deodorant and other things. He wraps an arm around my shoulder.

“Don’t let it affect you too much baby.” He says kissing my temple “we still have dinner to eat, and then you can have me.”

This was a lot of fun to write, and thank you sm for all of your support lately (I recently did a face reveal) so thank you for all of your compliments on that. Thank you for reading my fanfictions and if you ever have a request just send me a silly little message.

[millersgirl80]

Summer Spark (🔞 18+)

Pairing: BFD!Joel Miller x reader

Words: 1.2K its short 🫣

Rating: 18+

Summary: request—you and Sarah are bestfriends, and you’re staying at her house for summer break from college, and reader and Joel end up sleeping with each other

Warnings: Smut 18+

You had always looked forward to spending summer breaks at your best friend Sarah's house. It was a tradition you cherished, a time to escape the mundane college life and immerse yourself in the comfort of childhood friendship. But this year, as you stepped into their cozy home, you had a sneaking suspicion that this summer would be different.

"Hey, you're here!" Sarah's voice echoed through the house, followed by her bubbly laughter. She rushed to greet you, her bright eyes sparkling with excitement. You hugged her tightly, breathing in the familiar scent of her strawberry shampoo.

"You look amazing," she complimented, taking a step back to admire your summer dress, a light fabric that accentuated your curves. "And I see you went shopping! I like it!"

Flustered by her praise, you felt your cheeks warm. "It's all thanks to you, Sarah. You always bring out the best in me."

As you caught up on each other's lives, you couldn't help but notice the tall, broad-shouldered figure of her father, Joel, in the background. He was in his late forties, with a ruggedly handsome face and a captivating presence. He smiled warmly at you, his eyes holding a hint of mischief.

"You must be Sarah's friend," he said, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine. "I'm Joel, her father. It's a pleasure to finally meet the young lady who's kept my daughter company over the years."

You felt your face heat up again, this time for a different reason. "The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Joel. I've heard so much about you from Sarah."

The next few days were a blur of laughter, long conversations, and shared memories. You and Sarah stayed up late, giggling like schoolgirls, while Joel often joined in, his presence adding a certain charm to your girl time. You found yourself stealing glances at him, noticing the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, and the way his strong hands moved gracefully as he gestured while telling stories.

One afternoon, as Sarah had stepped out to run some errands, you found yourself alone with Joel in the spacious living room. The house was quiet, and the warm summer air seemed to heighten your senses.

"So, how's college life treating you?" Joel asked, his voice low and soothing. He sat beside you on the sofa, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from his body.

"It's good, but I always look forward to these summer breaks," you replied, your voice slightly breathless. "Being here with Sarah... and you, it feels like coming home."

Joel's eyes darkened at your words, and he leaned in, his breath tickling your ear. "I'm glad you feel that way."

You swallowed hard, feeling a rush of warmth between your thighs.

Before you could process what was happening, his hand gently cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing against your soft skin. "You're so beautiful, so full of life. I can't help but admire you."

Your heart pounded in your chest, and you found yourself leaning into his touch. "Joel..." you whispered, your voice hoarse with desire.

He pulled you closer, his lips finding yours in a searing kiss. The taste of him was intoxicating—a mix of coffee and something uniquely him. His tongue danced with yours, exploring, demanding, and you responded eagerly, your hands clutching at his shirt.

Breaking the kiss, he trailed wet kisses down your neck, his hands roaming over your body, mapping your curves. "You have no idea how hard it's been to resist you."

You gasped as his fingers deftly unbuttoned your dress, revealing your lace bra and the swell of your breasts. "Joel, we can't... Sarah..."

"Shh..." He silenced you with another kiss, his hand sliding down to cup your breast, thumb teasing your nipple through the lace. "Let's not think about anything else right now. Just you and me."

His skilled fingers unhooked your bra, and your breasts spilled into his waiting hands. He worshipped them, squeezing and kneading, his thumbs rubbing over your sensitive nipples until they hardened into tight peaks. Moans escaped your lips, filling the room with a symphony of desire.

"You're so responsive," he growled, his breath hot on your skin. "I want to hear you scream my name."

He lifted you onto his lap, positioning your legs on either side of his muscular thighs. You could feel his hardness pressing against your core, a tantalizing promise of what was to come. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you as you slowly lowered yourself onto his length.

You cried out as he filled you, inch by delicious inch. His thick cock stretched you, eliciting sensations you'd never experienced before. You began to move, riding him with a rhythm that built from slow and sensual to frenzied and wild.

"Fuck, you're tight," he grunted, his hands gripping your ass, urging you on. "Ride me, baby, ride my cock."

His words spurred you on, and you bounced on his lap, your breasts bouncing in time with your movements. You reached down, rubbing your clit as he thrust up to meet your descent, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through your body.

"I'm close..." you panted, your orgasm building to an explosive peak.

"Not yet," he commanded, his voice strained. "I want to feel you come around my cock."

He stood up, still buried deep inside you, and carried you to the nearby dining table. Laying you down on the smooth surface, he spread your legs wide, exposing your glistening pussy.

Kneeling between your thighs, he buried his face between your legs, his tongue laving your sensitive flesh. He ate you with a hunger that mirrored your own, his tongue flicking your clit, driving you to the brink of ecstasy.

"Oh God, Joel!" you cried out, your fingers tangling in his hair as he devoured you.

His eyes never leaving yours as he positioned himself at your entrance. With one swift thrust, he impaled you on his shaft, filling you so completely that you screamed in pleasure.

He pounded into you, the table creaking with each powerful stroke. His eyes locked with yours, the intensity of his gaze mirroring the intensity of his thrusts. You could see the desire and lust burning in his eyes, a reflection of the fire raging within you.

"You're so fucking wet, so tight around my cock," he grunted, his voice rough with passion. "I'm gonna make you come so hard."

He reached between your bodies, his fingers joining his cock in your slick heat. He rubbed your clit in firm circles, his rhythm perfectly matching his thrusts. Your body tensed, every muscle tightening as you soared towards the edge of bliss.

"Yes, yes, YES!" you screamed, your body convulsing around him as your orgasm exploded through you.

Joel groaned, his hips snapping forward one last time as he emptied his load deep inside you, his hot cum mixing with your juices. He collapsed onto you, his breath ragged against your neck.

As your heart rates slowed, you realized what you had just done. You had just engaged in the most mind-blowing sex of your life with your best friend's father.

"We can't tell Sarah about this," he whispered, his voice laced with concern. "But I can't deny that I want more of this. I want you, and I'm willing to do whatever it takes to have you."

You looked into his eyes, seeing the raw desire and the hint of something more—something that went beyond physical attraction. "I want you too, Joel. But we need to be careful. We can't risk hurting Sarah."

“Won't say a word, Stays between us baby.” Joel kisses your head and finishes cleaning you up, helping you get dressed.

[pinkslipxox]

Hey! I have a request. Not sure if you are taking them at the moment? If not, please ignore this. This idea has come from personal experience lol, I was in the store today just going to pick up some random things but I came across a baby section, they had cute little toys and a cute crib. It just really made me realise how much I want to have a baby one day.

Maybe you could make a fic, Billie and reader go to the store late at night in their pj's because billie wants to pick up something silly (you can decide) and the reader just wanders off while she's waiting and comes across a baby section and just can't help but think how much she really wants to have a baby with Billie one day. Billie comes over and asks us what we are thinking about, and we just look at her and tell her how much this really makes us want to have a baby. And to our shock, Billie says she wants to have a baby too. Just all fluffy.

- Thank you so much 💓

ahhh how adorable! Manifesting that one day you have your baby, angel xx ilysm 🫶❤️

———————————-———————————————

“Billie, I can’t believe you,” you say between laughs as your wife parks the car in the near empty grocery parking lot.

“My love, we can’t have hot chocolate unless there’s whipped cream. It’s like a sin,” Billie proclaims with playful determination, sending a wink to you.

You shake your head fondly at her with a smile. Being married to Billie included random yet memorable moments like this. One minute the two of you were laying in bed, the next you two were up making hot chocolate because the two of you collectively thought that waiting to fall asleep was boring. Yet in the midst of making said hot chocolate, Billie discovered that there was no whipped cream to be found in the fridge. Which explains why you two are in the parking lot of a grocery store twenty minutes before closing time.

Hand in hand, you and Billie hurry inside the grocery store. It is brightly lit and a few shoppers can be seen buying their last minute purchases. You and Billie come here so often that the both of you already know whole store like the back of your hands. It is also the most convenient location since it’s less than a ten minute drive from your house— five minutes if Billie is driving.

“Billie, I just remembered. We’re out of laundry detergent,” you muse and Billie nods.

“Okay. How about you get the laundry detergent and I get the whipped cream? And then we meet back here,” she suggests and you smile.

“Sounds perfect,” you reply and Billie kisses your forehead.

“Don’t get lost, Y/N,” she smirks and you playfully roll your eyes at her.

You watch Billie walk off for a moment before making your way to the aisle where the laundry detergent is. And despite your best efforts to resist, you find yourself looking through the baby aisle. On the shelves are everything an expectant parent might need for their child— formula, diapers, baby monitors, strollers. Your favorite thing to look at are the clothes. Especially the little shoes.

Having a family has always been a dream of yours. To hold a baby boy or girl in your arms, kiss their little face, inhale their newborn scent, and watch them grow up. You’ve yet to talk to Billie about it. She’s so good with kids, and it makes your heart melt whenever you see her interact with them. Sometimes you even dream of you and her with a blue eyed baby boy or a blonde haired baby girl with your eyes.

Only time will tell.

“There you are, my love,” Billie exclaims as she walks over to you with the whipped cream in her hand. She smiles at you and then looks at the baby outfit you’re admiring. Then, with a playful smirk, she teases, “I don’t think that’ll fit you, Y/N.”

You smack her arm playfully. “Oh, shut up, Bills.”

“What are you thinking about, Y/N?” Billie asks after a beat of silence. She then adds, “And don’t just say ‘nothing’, you always say that.”

You laugh softly at that. She knows you so well. That’s what makes her the best wife in the world. She’d also make the best mother in the world. Next to Maggie and your own mother, of course.

“It’s just… looking at all this stuff makes me want to have a baby,” you hum, a hint of hesitant in your voice. You then turn to Billie, sliding your hand into hers, squeezing it gently. “Don’t you ever think about having a mini you or me running around the house, Bills?”

“I do, actually,” she confesses, much to your shock and delight. Her voice is soft and warm, and a gentle smile tugs at her lips. “I want to experience everything life has to offer with you, Y/N. It’s just that… well, I assumed you didn’t want kids because we’ve never talked about it before.”

“Of course I do, Billie. More than anything,” you murmur as happy tears begin to swell up in your eyes.

Billie chuckles. “It’s settled, then. Let’s have a baby, Y/N.”

“Oh, Billie,” you sigh, content, as you wrap around arms around her, your heart swelling with love and excitement at the thought of having a child in the near future.

“I love you, Y/N Y/M/N O’Connell,” Billie murmurs softly, and you can hear the smile in her voice.

“I love you, too, Billie,” you whisper, kissing her cheek.

“How about we buy that outfit? You know, for motivation,” Billie says and you nod enthusiastically, loving the idea.

“And the shoes?” you request with a pout as you hold up the cutest little pair of Converse.

“Whatever you want, mama,” Billie chuckles and kisses the top of your head.

Mama.

You love the sound of that.

[coco-loco-nut]

High Flyer - Part Two

pairing: charles x reader

summary: no spoilers 🤭

masterlist part one requests open

—————————

You stayed a week extra in Abu Dhabi, not needing to return to Maranello quite yet. You could say that the allure of Ferrari World was too much, and Carlos talked it up to you. It was perfectly silly and probably the best second date you ever had.

The photos of you and Charles post-race were popular among fans, trying to figure out who he is. Then the video dropped, and you found yourself trending in the community once more.

“They are just as fascinated with you as I am,” Charles has said over a video call when talking about it shortly after becoming official.

It takes a lot for you to make the relationship work, strictly timed video calls, staying positive during the periods of time when you don’t get to talk to him, even sending letters back and forth. Somehow it works for you, and you cherish the moments when you get to talk face to face.

The glittering Monaco harbor is behind you as you put your earring in, preparing for the prize giving ceremony. Thankfully it’s not far from your apartment, and you only have to be there for your second place award. You hear a knock on your door and grab your phone, just in case it’s a crazy fan who snuck past the door guards.

“Charles?” you gasp, looking at the man in a suit in front of you, a small suitcase in tow.

“Bonsoir, ma cherie. I heard you are in need of a date tonight?” he smiles as you practically throw yourself on him. Charles holds you tight, savoring the moment.

“How are you here?” you ask in disbelief, the shock distracting you from how good he looks in his dress uniform.

“I got a couple days off. Max helped coordinate the surprise,” Charles reveals, your neighbor and friend pulling through for you.

“I’m so glad you are here,” you catch him off guard by pressing a kiss to his lips, melting into his arms.

“I’m glad I am here too, you look beautiful, and I’ve missed you so much,” he says softly, taking in your Ferrari red dress that fits you perfectly.

“I missed you too, this is much nicer than a video call,” you sigh, not wanting to step out of his embrace, fearing that if you do he will disappear. You know that his assignment is almost up, but you learned that ‘almost up’ means a year.

“I know, but I wouldn’t miss this for anything. I get to celebrate my incredibly talented girlfriend,” he pulls back slightly, aware of the time and that you need to leave soon.

“What if we just don’t go and stay in?” you suggest. Any desire to go flew out the window when you opened your front door.

“No, we will go, you will give your speech, and then as soon as it’s over we can leave. You have me for a couple more days,” Charles kisses you once more, not really helping the whole wanting to stay thing.

You rarely lose physical contact with him on the way over to the ceremony, whether it’s holding his hand, his hand on your waist or leg, or you holding his arm.

“Don’t you two look happy,” Max smiles, proud of himself for the surprise. You and Charles make for a much better looking pair than the fan ship of you and Max. Not to mention, Max is like your brother.

“Thank you,” you whisper as you quickly hug Max. Charles shakes Max’s hand after.

“You may have chosen the most boring event to make your first appearance as a couple at,” Max chuckles, leading the two of you to the bar.

“Well, they wouldn’t let me skip it,” you grumble.

“What are you grumbling about?” Carlos approaches your small group.

“That she couldn’t skip this,” Max says before you can reply. Charles squeezes your hand as you roll your eyes at Max. You take a glass of wine, needing something other than champagne.

“And miss a chance to show off her new boyfriend? I doubt it. Aren’t you glad that the PR team chose me to go to Ferrari World instead of you?” Carlos smiles, knowing that he’s right.

“No,” you lie, “I had to pay to go myself after the race. Charles was the only good part about the media duties,” you slightly lean into your boyfriend.

“Sure. We can both go to the amusement park next year and I’ll pay,” Carlos chuckles, grabbing his drink from the bar.

“Let’s find our seats?” Charles suggests, kissing the side of your head. You quickly find your table, Fred already there to represent the team in the Constructors Championship.

“My sometimes favorite drivers,” Fred jovially greets you and Carlos as if he didn’t see you in Maranello a week ago for a sim session.

The ceremony drags on, you take every opportunity to converse with Charles and your table, but you are subject to hours of awards and speeches. When the night is finally over, you turn down every afterparty invitation thrown your way.

“I am not going to place in the top three next year,” you groan as you slide your heels off. Charles is immediately drawn to the piano that sits in your living room.

“Do you play?” he asks, looking natural behind the keys.

“Not well or often enough, the former renter left it here. I keep it maintained though,” you hum, sitting beside him gently. Charles runs his fingers across the ivory keys, trying to recall a song.

“Well then, let me to the honors,” he smiles, fingers pressing down, easily gliding up and down the keyboard.

“That was incredible, you are incredible,” you say softly afterwards, you’ve never been serenaded before and it’s a turn on.

Charles leans in, capturing you in a kiss. His large, calloused hand rough against your cheek. When you pull away, you lead him to your bedroom, craving all the contact that you missed since you last saw him physically.

The air is charged as he unzips your dress, fingers brushing your bare skin sensually, making you arc into him. Charles brushes your hair off your shoulder and neck, pressing featherlight kisses to the area. Your breaths are shallow, breathless from everything.

“Charles,” you whisper, his name like a prayer on your lips, asking for anything and everything.

“Let me take care of you, ma reine,” he replies, nudging you back towards the bed as your red dress slides off your body. You hands slide up his chest, pausing to push off his suit jacket before they rest on his neck and in his hair.

After a long night, you spend the morning rotting in bed. Charles holds you close as you talk about anything and everything. You take him out on your yacht later in the day, a nice change of scenery.

“I don’t want you to leave tomorrow,” you admit as the sea breeze pushes your hair around.

“I don’t want to either, but I’ve been reassigned to southern France. I’ll get to see you more often,” Charles reminds you. You nod, fighting any tears back at the thought of separating again.

“I know, I just love you,” you bittersweetly smile, a pang in your heart as he pulls you close.

“And I love you,” he says softly, savoring the feeling of your embrace.

You see him a few more times before pre-season testing, visiting him off base and vice versa. The visits were short but worth every moment. Charles calls you when you are leaving dinner after the first day of testing.

“Mon amour, how was testing?” he asks, sweaty from a flight.

“My body is sore, but it was good. I just had dinner with my kids,” you smile, a small pack of drivers behind you.

“Oh, Oscar and Logan are there? Tell yhem hello for me,” Charles smiles.

“Hi Dad, Logan isn’t here,” Oscar smiles, popping into the frame and stealing your phone. You carried the loss of your son deeply, but you don’t blame Charles for forgetting that Logan wasn’t on the grid anymore since you said you were with multiple grid kids.

“You haven’t told him?” Ollie asks, large brown eyes looking sad at his exclusion.

“I just adopted you, kiddo. It’s hard to break the news that he’s now a father to twins and a grandfather,” you laugh, pulling Ollie into a hug. It didn’t take you long to adopt more grid kids, in fact as soon as you got to the paddock Ollie and Kimi came up to you calling you mom. It’s like the cat distribution system. Oscar adopted the new Australian on the grid, citing the Alpine connection, meaning you are a grid grandma. Oscar comes back to you and hands your phone to you.

“We are grandparents?” Charles asks, a little bewildered.

“Yes, funnily enough our grandchild was born at the same time as our twins,”

“Twins?”

“Hi Dad!” Ollie and Kimi say at the same time when you turn the phone to them.

“Hello?” Charles is confused but he does love how you take in the rookies and make them feel at home.

“Sorry, Charles, why don’t I call you when I get back to my hotel?” you smile apologetically, wanting to have time for both of you.

“Of course, call me when you get back,” Charles agrees, no trace of disappointment in his voice. He doesn’t have much to share about his day, especially since he doesn’t have a scheduled flight for a while. Charles watches as the call ends, thankful that he didn’t spoil his surprise.

Testing passes and suddenly it’s the first race of the season. You walk into the paddock, your brood with you. You, Ollie, and Kimi are deep in conversation, confusing Oscar and Jack a bit as you speak in Italian. You’ve already had movie nights that ended with them strewn across your hotel room, and you just know that they will be in and out of your room this season. F1TV already caught Ollie leaning against you taking a nap as you hugged him last season, and they captured Kimi doing something similar during testing.

“Papà,” Kimi says suddenly and you furrow your brows. Jack taps your shoulder and points ahead. Your smile grows as you notice Charles standing ahead, waiting for you. You take off, practically jumping into his arms.

“You’re here,” you grin, barely waiting to kiss him.

“I had to fulfill my WAG duties and meet our children,” he smiles, not letting you out of the hug yet. He utilized his brother Arthur, your reserve driver, to get a pass. Your face was priceless when you first connected the two, it was quite funny how long it took. Apparently sharing a last name and resemblance wasn’t enough until he mentioned it on the phone shortly after Abu Dhabi.

“Get a room,” Oscar makes a face that causes both of you to laugh.

“Oh we will,” you lean into your boyfriend, content to never leave.

“Ewww,” Ollie gags, disgusted at the idea. You and Charles laugh, like proud parents embarrassing your kids.

“That’s Ollie, this is Kimi, our grandson Jack, and you know Oscar,” you point to each boy.

“Nice to meet you all officially,” Charles smiles as he keeps an arm wrapped around your waist.

“Alright kiddos, time for you all to get to your teams. Drive safely,” you part ways with them, itching to get to Ferrari for some private time. Charles insists on getting a coffee before going to your drivers room, and the two of you barely get a second alone before there is a knock on your door. You pull away from Charles, irritation laced in your voice. “I just got here, go away,” you call out before pulling your boyfriend back in.

“I know you are hiding my brother from me,” Arthur’s voice responds causing you to pull away, a slight pout on your lips. Charles quietly laughs, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before he gets up to open the door. Arthur struts in, sitting between you and Charles. You did have the chance to spend time with the Leclercs in their home.

“You know, brother, if you wanted to get with Y/n earlier, you should’ve just asked me. You are lucky I suggested that the media team send her instead of Carlos,” Arthur says and you gasp.

“YOU ARE THE REASON HE GOT FERRARI WORLD INSTEAD?” you practically yell, causing Charles to stifle a laugh. You aren’t mad, well you are but in more of a joking way, sorta.

“She really did not like flying,” Charles clarifies, stretching an arm behind Arthur to play with your hair, a comforting touch.

“At least you met eachother?” Arthur suggests sheepishly.

“He was going to be at the race anyway,” you narrow your eyes.

“You trauma bonded?” Arthur suggests again and your eyes light up.

“Have you ever seen the video of Charles during his hot laps?” you ask, wickedly smiling. Charles looks at you, a mix of panic and curiosity in his eyes.

“No, show me!”

“Nope. That blackmail belongs to me, since you so kindly took away my fun,” you shake your head, locking your phone. Charles lets out a breath of relief, he trusts you completely, but he was worried for a second.

“You’re no fun. You never even adopted me into your grid family,” Arthur pouts as you and Charles lock eyes, shared amusement between you.

“Arthur, why would she adopt you? You are my brother,”

“I don’t know, because she’s the most sought after grid parent. Plus, it’s not like you two are engaged,” Arthur says and you flush with embarrassment and flattery.

“Arthur, you are basically my brother, you don’t need to be my grid kid. You are on the same level as Charles and Carlos,” you are starting to feel like a parent describing something to a young kid.

“I guess that is better. You better mention that when making a family tree video,” Arthur concedes.

“Why don’t we go out for dinner after the second practice session?” Charles suggests, hoping to kill some of the awkwardness.

“I think that’s a great idea. Speaking of, I should start getting ready,” you catch Charles’ unspoken message, hoping to get Arthur out of your room.

“Right, I should do my job too,” Arthur stands up, half expecting Charles to follow, but isn’t surprised when he stays. They can catch up while you drive.

“Finally a moment alone,” Charles grins moving closer to you.

“I wasn’t lying, I do need to get ready,” you say between kisses.

“You need to undress first, and I can help with that,” Charles murmurs against your lips as his hands slide underneath your shirt.

“We are working on limited time,” you point out, brain fogging.

“We go fast for a living, we can do it,” you were a few minutes late for your prep meeting. Arthur gave you a weird look, one that told you he knew what you were up to.

Both Charles and Arthur were glad to have the weekend together, spending time as a family while you raced. Before you knew it, Charles was kissing you goodbye at the airport as you both went to your next stops. His France and yours Saudi Arabia.

What you didn’t expect was Arthur banging on your driver room door as you are prepping.

“I’m in, I’m driving,” Arthur seems to be freaking out a little bit as you let him in, dressed in a Ferrari suit.

“Carlos is out?”

“He’s in the hospital getting surgery. I’m driving a Formula One car,” you process it beside him, remaining much more calm than Arthur.

“Did you call your mom?” you ask, knowing the answer is likely no since he would’ve been in team meetings since he found out. Arthur shakes his head no, so you squeeze his shoulder and grab your phone.

“Y/n, what a surprise. Is everything okay?” Pascale’s voice rings out over the phone.

“I’m sending a jet to you right now, and I’ll send the flight details in a bit. Arthur will drive his first F1 race and you should be here,” you tell her over speaker phone, working everything out starting with the flights.

“Is Arthur with you?” she asks as Arthur peers over your shoulder.

“Hello Maman,” you tune out their conversation as you send her the jet details and start working on hotel rooms for her, Lorenzo, and Charlotte as well as paddock passes. You only really get out of your planning zone when Arthur grabs your phone to hang up and hug you.

“You okay?” you finally ask, knowing he is probably emotionally drained already.

“I can’t wait for you to officially be my sister, and I can’t wait to drive alongside you this weekend,” Arthur says, you gently rub his back to ground him.

“You will do a great job. Let’s get through free practice three and then we can talk about some tricks to make it work for you,” you stand up, grabbing your gear to head to the garage.

You try to help him out as the team gets him adjusted and tested for approval, but you have your own driving to worry about too. It’s very clear to the team that you are looking out for Arthur and want to help him learn the ropes. But when it’s time to get into the car, he is own his own. You do well in your program running, but check in on Arthur periodically via your engineer.

Arthur qualifies well for a rookie, and you start the race second row at P3. He is the first person to greet you in Ferrari after you return from the media gauntlet.

“Congrats on P3,” Arthur smiles, showered and ready to go back to the hotel.

“Thanks! You did pretty well for your first time. Give me like 20 minutes to shower, yeah?” you ask, ready to get some sleep.

“Thanks again for helping me get through today, I see why everyone wants you as their grid mom,” Arthur says, not protesting when you hug him.

“Of course, I want you to succeed,” you reply, excited to see his reaction when his family is waiting at the hotel for him. The team covered their hotel rooms since you booked flights before they could.

“I can’t wait for you to be my actual sister one day,” Arthur yawns, your face Ferrari red at the thought. Of course you thought about it, but having him say it is different, it’s more real.

“Maybe one day,” you say, sliding into your chauffeured car. Arthur gets in beside you, and finds himself as your pillow. You accidentally fell asleep as the car left the circuit. Arthur takes a selfie and sends it to his family group chat as your soft snores fill the car. He scrolls on instagram, killing the rest of the time on the drive, when he sees an edit that the F1 account posted. It is the free practice three timesheet with your last name changed to Leclerc. He sends it to you, knowing you wouldn’t want to be awakened for it even if it is funny.

“Y/n,” Arthur pokes you as you arrive at the hotel.

“Hmm, sorry. You should’ve woke me up once I fell asleep, you don’t have to be my pillow,” you yawn, slightly stretching before getting out of the car.

“Maman,” Arthur hugs Pascale, who is patiently waiting at the entrance for him.

“I’m so proud of you,” she says before stopping you from slipping past. Not that you were going to avoid her, you just assumed she would want privacy with Arthur. “And you, thank you for today. You are a part of this family,” she wraps you in a hug, making sure you know how much your effort was appreciated.

“Of course, you couldn’t miss Arthur’s first race. I’ll let you guys catch up,” you smile, hugging her one last time.

“Can’t have you falling asleep again,” Arthur teases, your smile deceives your joking irritation.

“You won’t let me live that down, will you?” you say, shaking your head. “I will see you in the morning for breakfast,” you bid them goodnight, ready to collapse in the plush hotel bed.

It’s a sight to see, you walking into the paddock with the Leclerc’s (minus Charles) behind you. It’s clear to fans that you have been easily incorporated into the family. Charles watches from afar, having the day off from officer duties. He sends a couple texts, wishing you luck and a few memes from fans based on the post made by F1. You reply when you can, but it’s sporadic.

“Ready to lose?” Max asks you during the drivers parade.

“I should ask you the same. But if it means I don’t have to sit through prize giving again, then yes I am ready to lose,”

“It’s not that bad,”

“You won your third championship, you are used to it. Plus, you hate those events more than me, don’t lie,” you laugh.

“Alright, that is fair,” Max relents. He ends up winning, but you climbed a position and took P2. You won’t hear the Italian anthem this week, but you sing it in your head on the podium as you get your trophy. The teams energy is infectious, even for P2. Arthur meets you in the motorhome, holding a phone to your face.

“Congrats, mon amour,” Charles says, a proud smile on his face.

“I drove okay, Arthur drove well though! Points in his first race,” you smile, accepting hugs from Lorenzo and Charlotte. Pascale stole Arthur’s phone, taking Charles away from you.

“Any recommendations for dinner?” Lorenzo asks, ready to celebrate.

“A few. Will you two come out tonight to celebrate?” you ask, adjusting the suit that hangs at your waist.

“Someone has to stay with Pascale, but I know Arthur will party tonight,” Charlotte politely turns down the offer.

“I will, I heard Max always sets up good parties,” Arthur is excited to celebrate with the grid.

“Expensive parties, you are lucky I’m picking up the tab for you,” you laugh, Arthur’s phone being placed in your hand.

“You look tired, call me when you get to your room,” Charles smiles sympathetically.

“Will do, love you,” you smile back, handing the phone to Arthur as you make your way to your driver room. True to your word, you call him once you shower and change. It takes another twenty minutes on the phone for Arthur to bang down your door, reminding you that you have a family dinner to get to.

“Enjoy dinner, I love you,” Charles says before hanging up.

The season flys after that, especially when Ferrari begins to get very competitive again, putting more pressure on you and Carlos.

Charles got leave approved to go with you to the prize giving, both of you deciding to make a mini vacation out of it. The night before, you go to a small Parisian restaurant for an early dinner then a sunset walk along the Seine.

“What was your favorite part of the season?” Charles asks, wrapping an arm around you.

“Hmm, maybe winning Miami, or finally getting more consistent at the end of the season. The PR team would want me to say the trip in Abu Dahbi they arraigned for Carlos and I since I publicly complained that only he went to the Ferrari World last year,” you ponder the question, not having thought about it. You and Carlos had a blast, and it made both of you think of taking trips to amusement parks during winter break. “What was yours?”

“That graphic of you with my last name,” Charles reveals with a smile, he still makes you blush like a schoolgirl.

“That was a good choice,” you see something on the other side of the river and take a step away to get a close look.

You turn towards him to point it out and that’s when you find him on one knee.

“I’ve been waiting since the start of the season to ask you this. I knew during testing that you were the one and that I would marry you, then when everything in Saudi Arabia happened, it confirmed it more. You are my everything, and my forever. Will you marry me?” Charles asks, watching you tearfully nod.

“Yes,” you nod, watching him slide on the ring. Charles is beaming as he pulls you in for a kiss.

“Forever,” you whisper your promise against his lips.

“What if we get married tonight?” Charles asks, the thought springing into his mind.

“Tonight? Why not,” you grin, a rush of adrenaline going through you.

“We will have to wait for the paperwork, but I’m sure we can find a priest,” Charles kisses you, as he mentally plans it.

“Let’s find the nearest church, maybe the priest is a Ferrari fan,” you wink. The priest was, and was more than happy to marry you despite no wedding certificate. Your families were ecstatic, especially when you both promised to have a formal wedding during summer break.

instagram

y/n_leclerc husband appreciation post 🥰❤️

comments are limited

carlossainz55 when did this happen???? we are discussing this tomorrow at prize giving (congrats i guess?)

y/n_leclerc we will tell you everything then!

charlesleclerc Je t'aimerais pour l'éternité ❤️

y/n_leclerc pour l’éternité❤️

arthurleclerc getting engaged and married on the same day is so you coded, proud to be your brother

charlesleclerc we will celebrate when we get home

y/n_leclerc proud to have you as my unofficial official brother 🫶

scuderiaferrari congrats! (admin is sad that we weren’t invited)

maxverstappen1 👍

y/n_leclerc 👍

oscarpiastri no invite 😭 congrats mom and dad

jackdoohan ^ getting eloped 🙅‍♂️ cool

olliebearman ^ he finally did it though!

kimiantonielli ^ i guess sometimes your soulmate isn’t a car

y/n_leclerc you all are grounded

logansargeant congrats! come visit soon!

y/n_leclerc we will try! you are welcome here anytime too 🫶

f1 we so manifested this in Saudi Arabia 👀