#yukierre fic

[bluenerdtastemaker]

Random yukierre writing I did ( tattoo artist yuki x f1 pierre ) just one part of it. I just wanna share this soooo enjoy LMAO

The early morning light crept through the blinds in Pierre’s Milan apartment, casting a soft glow over the bedroom. Pierre lay sprawled out on the bed, shirtless and only in joggers, his toned chest rising and falling as he drifted in and out of sleep. His hair was a messy tangle, and he had one arm lazily draped over his pillow, lips parted in a soft, barely-there smile as if dreaming something peaceful.

The bedroom door creaked open, and a figure stepped in; Yuki, dressed in a cosy pastel blue sweater that hung loosely over black pants, gave him that effortlessly cool look that Pierre adored. Yuki tiptoed inside, biting his lip to keep from laughing as he saw Pierre, who looked both comfortable and completely unprepared for the surprise.

Just as he moved closer, Pierre’s eyes fluttered open, and he sat up, blinking at the sight before him. “Yuki?” His groggy voice was filled with disbelief, but his expression quickly melted into joy as he recognized his boyfriend standing there, grinning in that playful way that always melted Pierre’s heart.

Without waiting another second, Pierre wrapped his arms around Yuki, pulling him down onto the bed in a crushing hug. “You’re really here,” he murmured, voice thick with emotion as he nuzzled against Yuki’s shoulder.

Yuki laughed, his hands coming up to gently rub Pierre’s back. “I wanted to surprise you. I… thought maybe it was time.”

Pierre pulled back slightly, his eyes wide as he studied Yuki’s face, almost as if needing to confirm he was real. He let his hand trail down to Yuki’s stomach, fingers brushing gently over the fabric of the sweater and sliding around Yuki’s waist, where he could feel the gentle, warm skin just above his waistband. His thumb grazed the metal of Yuki’s hidden belly button piercing, making Yuki shiver at the unexpected touch.

A grin spread across Pierre’s face, his fingers tracing the piercing with a light, almost teasing touch. “You kept this a secret, too,” he murmured, eyes sparking with mischief.

Yuki’s cheeks turned a soft pink, but he gave a playful roll of his eyes. “Not everything’s for show,” he replied, leaning into Pierre’s touch.

Pierre chuckled, his hand resting over Yuki’s stomach, feeling the steady rhythm of his breathing. He traced slow, lazy circles over the fabric, grazing the skin underneath. Yuki relaxed against him, letting his head rest on Pierre’s bare shoulder, taking in the warmth of the embrace, the quiet intimacy of a moment they’d only ever been able to share in private.

“Does this mean…” Pierre started, his voice soft and full of wonder, “you’re ready?”

Yuki nodded, his fingers tracing delicate patterns over Pierre’s back, brushing over the dragon tattoo that symbolized so much of them. “If you’re by my side, yeah. I’m ready.”

Pierre’s heart thudded in his chest as he processed the words. It was a quiet admission, spoken in their own private language, but it meant the world. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Yuki’s forehead, a promise that he’d be there every step of the way.

[chellena]

TW: unhealthy relationship with food/binge eating/insecurity

Yuki Tsunoda, in his rookie season of F1, just can’t stop thinking about pudding. It starts with a little itch at the back of his mind that turns into a full body ache.

He also can't stop thinking about his older teammate, Pierre Gasly. He doesn't want to think about why that is. And it doesn't help that Pierre has resorted to calling Yuki by the pet name- Pudding.

[sunreisets]

do y’all want an instagram au of yukierre where the captions are based off Pierre by Ryn Weaver and Sukidakara by Yuika? it’s not a part 2 to the first yukierre one I did but I got that idea yk

[homolonso]

13/10 F1 AO3 ships by amount of works posted

1. Lestappen 5,261 (5% increase from last month)

2. Maxiel 4,159 (1.5% increase)

3. Carlando 2,624 (2% increase)

4. Piarles 2,294 (1.1% increase)

5. Landoscar 1,962 (8% increase)

6. Brocedes 1,892 (3.5% increase)

7. Simi 1,857 (0.6% increase)

8. Charlos 1,325 (3.2% increase)

9. Sewis 1,294 (1.4% increase)

10. Rubon 1,209 (3.4% increase)

11. Chestappen 914 (7.5% increase)

12. Loscar 747 (6.5% increase)

13. Yukierre 620 (3.5% increase)

14. Webbonso 548 (1.9% increase)

15. Strollonso 408 (3.5% increase)

[sillystappen]

The way i wanna psychoanalyse a whole load of drivers and see how they think and what makes their brain tick is not normal and thats why I write fanfiction.

(I actually have a list - not in tags - of things I wanna know and would ask the drivers and whose brain I wanna pick apart and they are in order)

[fourtyforever]

Get in losers were making a fic rec masterlist

Hi y’all it’s me, your local multishipper, and I’m about to be the change I wish to see in the world by putting all the best f1 fics in one place.

Maxiel

cool things to say to your soulmate by @powerful-owl (E, 14k)

A collection of shorter soulmate stories by the great em powerfulowl. Essentially the maxiel thesis as far as I’m concerned. If you ever catch me talking about the goose fic, this is what I’m talking about. Fun story: this was actually the first F1 rpf I ever read and I blame it for why my standards are so fantastically high.

Thursday girl by @boxboxlewis (M, 3k)

Max is outed by the press. Shocking emotional impact to word ratio and off the charts tenderness. Short and sweet and low key a comfort read to me.

the being unknown by anonymous (E, 12k)

Body swap with really unique and emotional vibes. Ngl this one hurt me (in the best way). A fantastic and heart-wrenching take on the horrors of 2022.

Charlos

win or lose (it’s how you play the game) by @f1-stuff (E, 18k)

Hickey bet between charles and carlos. Cannot get over this fic for as long as I live: the silliness is off the charts, the vibes are literally the most perfectly balanced tenderhorny I’ve ever read and the writing is just really that good. I think about this fic minimum once a day.

last night by venerat (E, 24k)

College au. Ngl this one is just especially spicy, but also very very funny and fully captivating top to bottom (see what I did there? haha). Also a great ensemble cast here, which I always love.

Once more (before we die) by @f1-stuff (M, 6k)

Fantasy AU where charlos are princes of warring kingdoms. I love this AU and I love the tenderness between Charles and Carlos that we get out of it. I’m usually not really an AU type of gal but this one really did change my mind.

Playing games by @vegasgrandprix (T, 4K)

Gay chicken. WIP, but I can already tell so clearly exactly where this is going and that is delightful to me. Honestly this really is how they act like 90% of the time already.

Yukierre

match made in heaven by venerat (T, 4K)

Pierre is yuki’s matchmaker. this one is just so sweet and sooooo silly. Comfort read 100%

Loscar

Are they gay or European? (the answer is both) by periwinkle_bumper_cars (T, 30k)

Logan keeps walking in on other drivers in compromising positions. 100% balls to the wall silliness from beginning to end and just completely delightful the whole time. Background carlando, kmag/hulkenberg, brocedes, maxiel, and honestly the ensemble cast is what takes this one from great to top tier.

Landoscar

By a thread by @mctwinkdom (E, 32k)

The classic Australian thongs misunderstanding (gone sexual). Incredibly silly, amazingly hot and honestly a top-tier character study of both Oscar and Lando. A great study in unreliable narration as well (probably part of what accounts for my previous point).

carried away by orphan account (E, 22k)

Fake dating. Honestly this one got me in my feels so much more than I expected from the premise. Sweet and a little bit angsty and just a delightful read all the way down.

Strollonso

green light, red wine (and I don’t feel fine) by @vicsy (E, 19k)

Mafia AU where lance is the son of Fernando’s arch nemesis. THEE strollonso fic of all time I tell you. Unparalleled characterization on the part of both nando and lance, fantastic ensemble cast, FANTASTIC writing, and off the charts unreal spiciness. If you haven’t read this yet then what are you doing

El dick plan by @waddlingpenguin (E, 800)

Lance says ‘daddy,’ both Fernando and Lawrence answer. Short, sweet and SILLY.

camera roll by @penaltyboxboxbox (E, 5k)

Sexting/sex tapes. Overall nice and spicy and just fantastic characterization. Also absolutely crucial is the companion art also by dave penaltyboxboxbox which is literally like the ice cream on top of the cake for such a wonderful fic

silver platter by @wewentcarracing (E, 10k)

getting together fic featuring long suffering estie bestie. Honestly the fic is amazing and spicy and just so well written but Esteban’s ever growing dismay is lowkey my favorite part. Works as a pretty great lance character study as well.

Brocedes

Roseberg’s vs haminkton by @jean----ralphio (E, 16k)

Tattoo artist versus flower shop, except they’re rivals. This is like…just how they are honestly. Absolutely stunning ensemble cast and absolutely hilarious buildup to lewis and Nico finally getting together. Side order of seb just being a massive shit stirrer which honestly I think is the role he belongs in

The real reason nico rosberg retired by periwinkle_bumper_cars (G, 3k)

Secret Santa (gone horribly wrong). This is…..also just how they are unfortunately. The rancidest of vibes but also screeching-out-loud funny.

will be updating this on the reg so stay tuned for more good fics. also maybe if I am very lucky someday I will have my own fics to add to the list. definitely I need to become slightly more insane before I can start writing for this fandom but believe you me I’m well on my way.

[over-extra-tapidoodles]

guys, does anyone also miss Yukierre??

well I do so i decided to make a Chappell Roan Yukierre Animatic for pride month :)

It’s sad btw :3

[bluenerdtastemaker]

The Dare Might Be Not Bad ²²¹⁰

Tattoo Artist! Yuki Tsunoda + F1 Driver Pierre Gasly | 1.5K

"Maybe tourists weren’t so bad after all."

Yuki Tsunoda didn’t like tourists.

Sure, they were one of the reasons tattoo artists like him could make a decent living income. Besides his loyal clients who kept coming back for his creativity and unique designs, tourists filled in the gaps, requesting quick tattoos to commemorate their trips. But tourists never gave him much creative freedom—always asking for tiny symbols, names, or meaningless quotes. The worst were the ones getting tattoos on a dare; oh, those were nightmares waiting to happen. They’d show up weeks later, regret written all over their faces, demanding refunds or crying about a decision made in a drunken haze.

Today’s clients seemed no different, yet there was something unusual about them that made Yuki hesitate. He stared at the two men standing at the counter. Both had an unmistakably European look, with one of them sporting a face Yuki had seen splashed across sports headlines: Charles Leclerc. Beside him was another strikingly handsome man, Pierre Gasly, who looked distinctly uncomfortable.

Yuki sighed inwardly, mentally preparing himself for whatever nonsense was about to unfold.

“Hello, welcome to Matsui Studio,”

---

Matsui Studio was a hidden gem tucked away in one of Tokyo’s lesser-known streets, a place where people came for more than just ink. The shop was a visual spectacle—a far cry from the typical sterile, white-walled tattoo studios most tourists expected. Instead, the studio was bathed in a moody atmosphere dominated by dark turquoise neon lights, casting a dim but inviting glow that gave the space an otherworldly aura.

The walls were a rich matte black, adorned with eclectic artwork framed in shadow boxes, showcasing intricate tattoo designs and traditional Japanese motifs. In one corner, a softly humming water feature added a calming background noise, blending seamlessly with the low thrum of lo-fi beats playing from hidden speakers. The air smelled faintly of sandalwood incense mixed with the sterile tang of antiseptic—a scent Yuki found oddly comforting.

Long, sleek shelves lined with tattoo inks, neatly arranged in gradient order, sparkled under the neon glow, while the leather chairs were deep black, their surfaces gleaming. Dark green plants in geometric pots were scattered strategically, bringing a touch of life to the otherwise shadowy interior.

—

“Hello, welcome to Matsui Studio, what can I help you?” The asian man greeted them in accented-fluent English, his customer-service mask firmly in place to the two white clients in front of him with a distinct English accent knowing these people are not well versed in his mother tongue, glad that he does well in linguistic related studies, cause at least he has no problem communicating with foreigners.

Charles, who the asian quickly recognised, flashing his characteristic charming smile, clapped Pierre, who also quickly recognised, on the shoulder. “We’d like him to get a tattoo,” he announced, practically beaming with mischief. Pierre winced, clearly regretting whatever bet had landed him here. “This guy doesn’t have any ink yet, so we thought, why not fix that tonight? It's something small. It’s a dare, after all.”

‘Of fucking course it’s a dare,’ The asian tattooist thought, barely managing to hide his annoyance. He kept his face impassive as he glanced at Pierre, who was glaring daggers at his friend.

Pierre finally stepped forward, meeting Yuki’s gaze. There was a flicker of something there—something that made Yuki pause. Pierre’s eyes were deep, a stormy blue, filled not with the bravado he was used to seeing from people dragged in for a dare, but with genuine discomfort. Yuki had to admit it was refreshing to see someone taking this seriously, even if they were here under pressure.

“Alright,” Yuki said with a sigh, pulling his sleeves up, uncovering his tattooed forearm, leaning on the counter with crossed arms, his tattoo-covered forearms on display.

“So, what do you want? The classic ‘dare’ stuff? Hearts, initials, or something equally meaningless? If you’re serious about this, I don’t do bullshit. You’re getting something that looks good, or you’re walking out of here with nothing. Your choice.”

Charles raised his hands in mock surrender, still grinning, letting his best friend on the front line, who nodded slowly, stepping up to the challenge. “No letters or initials,” Pierre said, voice steady but soft. “I want something small, but... meaningful. Something I won’t regret.”

Yuki’s eyebrow arched in surprise. That wasn’t the answer he was expecting. Most people in Pierre’s position would have caved and gone with whatever easy option got them out of the chair fastest. But Pierre... Well, he seemed to actually care about what ended up on his skin.

“Alright,” Yuki said, a small smirk playing on his lips. “Come on back. Let’s see if we can figure something out.”

‐--

The tattooing room was a continuation of the main studio’s vibe but with an even deeper, more intimate ambiance. Dark turquoise neon tubes bordered the ceiling, reflecting off black lacquered walls. A long window provided a peek into the bustling Tokyo streets outside, where city lights blurred like a kaleidoscope of colors in the late-night drizzle. The room’s centerpiece was Yuki’s tattoo chair, made of sleek black leather with turquoise stitching that matched the shop’s color scheme.

Pierre gingerly took a seat, trying to calm his nerves. Charles leaned against the doorframe, scrolling through his phone while occasionally glancing over with an amused smirk. The lighting cast soft shadows across Pierre’s sharp features, making him look even more ethereal. Yuki noticed how the neon light caught in Pierre’s eyes, giving them an almost electric blue hue.

“So,” Yuki began, snapping on a pair of black gloves, “you mentioned wanting something meaningful. Any specific ideas, or are you leaving it up to me?”

Pierre hesitated, shooting a quick glance at Charles, who was now busy taking pictures against the neon-lit walls. Yuki rolled his eyes—celebrities. But something about Pierre made him linger a little longer. There was a softness to his expression, an earnestness Yuki wasn’t used to seeing in his usual clientele.

“I was thinking... maybe something related to my career,” Pierre finally said. “Or... something to do with traveling. I spend so much of my life on the road.”

Yuki’s eyes flicked up to meet Pierre’s, and he nodded thoughtfully. “How about a compass?” Yuki suggested, quickly sketching out a design in his notebook. “Simple, elegant, and it can symbolize your journey. Racing is all about navigating through life’s challenges, right?”

Pierre’s eyes widened, looking at the tattoo artist; ‘Oh, so he knew.’ The French man thought as he slowly looked at the sketch. The lines were clean, the design understated but powerful. “Yeah,” he said softly, almost as if he were speaking to himself. “That’s perfect.”

Yuki’s lips twitched into a rare, genuine smile. “Alright. Let’s get started.”

---

Pierre’s hands were clenched into fists as Yuki prepared the tattoo gun, cleaning the area on his inner wrist where they’d decided to place the design. Yuki could feel the nervous energy radiating off Pierre, and for some reason, he found himself wanting to ease the guy’s nerves. Usually, he didn’t care if clients were uncomfortable. They were the ones who chose to be here, after all.

But Pierre... something about him was different.

“You alright?” Yuki asked, his tone softer than before. “You look like you’re about to bolt.”

Pierre let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. “Yeah, just... not a fan of needles,” he admitted, cheeks flushing slightly.

Yuki’s smirk widened. “I’ve had grown men cry in this chair,” he teased lightly, “and they weren’t even as pretty as you.” The words slipped out before Yuki could think better of it, but he didn’t regret them when he saw the way Pierre’s eyes widened, then softened, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Pretty, huh? That’s a new one,” Pierre replied, a hint of playfulness in his tone despite his nerves.

Yuki chuckled, leaning in closer to finish the tattoo. “Stay still, pretty boy. Let’s see if you can handle this.”

—

The hum of the tattoo machine filled the room, blending with the soft music and the occasional rumble of traffic outside. The first buzz of the needle made Pierre flinch, but he gritted his teeth, determined to see this through. Yuki worked with a deft hand, the design slowly coming to life on Pierre’s wrist. The concentration in Yuki’s eyes, the way his brows furrowed in focus, it was mesmerizing. Pierre found himself watching Yuki more than worrying about the pain, actually the pain is not bad at all now the French man thinks about it.

Feeling like it was forever, when Yuki was done, he leaned back to admire his work. The compass tattoo was clean and precise, perfectly aligned on Pierre’s wrist, the delicate lines catching the soft neon glow.

Pierre stared at it, awe in his eyes. “It’s... incredible,” he whispered, his voice filled with genuine appreciation.

“Glad you like it,” Yuki said, peeling off his gloves. "Before you go, I need to protect this to heal." Proceeding to explain the healing process and how he should take care of it, briefly mention this is important to maintain the hard earned tattoo and to avoid infection.

“Now go show your friend before he whines about how long it took.”

Pierre stood, but he hesitated, slipping Yuki a generous tip. As their eyes met again, there was a moment of silence, a spark that neither could deny.

“Maybe... I’ll come back for another one,” Pierre said, a hint of mischief in his smile.

Yuki shrugged, though his heart skipped a beat. “You know where to find me.”

As Pierre left the studio, Charles teasing him mercilessly, Yuki found himself smiling.

Maybe tourists weren’t so bad after all.

[chellena]

Pierre knew he had a problem. A Yuki Tsunoda sized problem to be specific. He doesn’t understand a lot of things- mainly how he came to be homophobic. Homophobic towards Yuki of all people

But he didn't have any other explanation for how he felt seeing Yuki with other men.

✯ I’m back with more yukierre!! I saw this post on reddit and thought “that’s yukierre pre-divorce coded”

✯ I’m thinking of doing a yukierre x diet pudding cup boy AU next! or fulfilling a request that’s been sitting in my inbox for a while

✯ As always feel free to let me know what you think or offer any advice on how i can improve my writing!!

✯ I’m open to taking requests though i can’t promise it will be fulfilled quickly 

[milflewis]

ok but mob au

1.

“You really didn’t know who I work for?”

When Yuki found out that Pierre’s boss is the Sebastian Vettel, the Lion of Singapore, and the unofficial heir to Schumacher & Co., he had only raised his eyebrows. Pierre took that to mean he had already figured it out.

Yuki blinks at him. “No.”

“But.” Pierre frowns. “Why did you — I always have so many knives on me! Is this not weird to you?” He gestures at his jacket which hangs open, showing four different perfectly sharpened blades tucked into the lining.

Yuki shrugs. “You are French, yes? You like to cut things. Like cheese.”

Pierre mouths wordlessly. Cheese.

“Anyway,” Yuki adds. “You are weird, so. This would not be weird.”

2.

The first time Sebastian meets Lewis, his runners are wet with Michael’s blood and Lewis’s hands are pressing his head into the glass door. His face aches, nose throbbing.

“Can I help you?” he says, or tries to say. It comes out vaguely smushed.

He pushes back a little just to see. Lewis lets him move half an inch before shoving him back.

“Jesus, Hamilton,” Sebastian hears Michael say. His voice cracks roughly. Sebastian nearly cried when the doctor told him Michael survived the surgery, that they got all the bullets out and he was in recovery. He swallows thickly, as the relief makes him all dizzy even now. “I know you got out today but c’mon, let him go. This is Sebastian — I talked about him.”

The hands on Sebastian’s neck disappear and he’s rubbing at his jaw when he turns around. “Ow,” Seabastian tells Michael. His cheeks are pale and his chest is wrapped in white bandages but his eyes are alert and he is grinning.

“Sebastian, this is Lewis Hamilton. Lewis, Sebastian Vettel. Mika says we are all friends here.”

He pats Mika’s ankle that is propped up on the bed beside his hip. Mika’s eyes stay closed, arms folded in his chair, chin on his chest. There are dark bruises under his eyes under now.

“Right. If Mika says so.”

Lewis steps back towards Michael’s bed, grabbing the duffle bag from where it was leaning against the wall. Sebastian looks at his bare arms, the tattoos that go all the way down to his fingers, the rings there. His jeans sit low on his hips. He needs a shave. Sebastian recognises him from his mugshot, even of his hair is longer now and his face is more lined.

They hadn’t had the time to arrange for Michael to share a cell with someone affiliated with them, and when they had got in contact with him, a week later, he had settled in well enough with his cell mate. By Michael standards at least.

Does not talk much, Michael had told Sebastian over the phone. Likes his fucking singing though. Stares at the picture of his dog. Do you think he is lonely?

When Sebastian had brought it up with Mika, the best person for this kind of thing when Corinna is away, Mika had only shrugged, and told him that he doesn’t think it is just Hamilton that is lonely, and that of fucking course anyone who could survive nine weeks in solitary with just Fernando Alonso as company in the next cell over is someone that Michael would find interesting.

Sebastian looks away from the breadth of Lewis’s shoulders in his white tank and pulls a face at Michael’s waggling eyebrows.

3.

“How old do you think I am?” Jenson asks, as Alex adjusts his long-rifle until it sits comfortably against his shoulder, supported by the flat roof they are lying on. 

Alex doesn’t answer, because he knows exactly how old Jenson is, and the fact that people continue to tell Jenson to his face that he looks ten years older than his actual age will never stop being funny.

“Ollie, how old do you think I am?” Jenson calls.

“Jen, leave the kid alone,” Alex says. “You could dye your hair.”

“Do I look like a man who would dye his hair solely to stave off questions about his age?”

“Yes,” Alex sweeps the street below them, marking the buildings bracketing the shop they are surveilling. “Ollie, how are you doing over there?”

He can hear him scramble around for a second before a burst of static. “Radio ready for orders, sir.”

Alex grimaces, still not used to that, as Jenson only laughs beside him.

4.

“Michael? We got him.” Eddie leans back against the closed door.

Michael hums, closing his leather notebook. He leaves his fountain pen tucked into the middle so he remembers what month of intakes he was going over.

“Send him in.”

The kid’s hair is long and dirty, falling into his eyes and around his ears. His knees are all busted up under his baggy shorts. His face is drawn and thin, and he is glaring at Michael, jaw clenched.

He goes all pale when he sees who sits in front of him. Seems like he didn’t know whose car it was.

“Jesus,” Michael says. “You’re tiny, how did you reach the pedals?”

This morning, the kid — Sebastian Vettel, Michael had asked around — had hot wired Michael’s car in under two minutes and driven away. Michael had watched from the restaurant’s window, amused and impressed.

Mika had been decidedly less so when Michael told him, ten minutes later, that they were going to have to order a cab.

“I’m not that short!” The glare intensifies. His eyes are kind of freaky, Michael thinks. Very big and bright.

Michael holds out a hand, level with his chest, and squints. He lowers it considerably. Sebastian looks like he wants to bite it.

“Of course not,” Michael tells him soothingly. Eddie gives him a reproachful look. Michael holds back his eyeroll but takes his hand out of reach of Sebastian’s mouth.

“I have a job for you,” Michael says, watching Sebastian’s eyes sharpen. He smiles thinly. “If you’re up for it.”

“A job. For me? What kind of job?” Sebastian tilts his head to the side, making his eyes wide. His curls tumble across his forehead. The whole effect is rather sweet, Michael considers, delighted. This will be interesting.

Mika has been nagging at Michael to stop picking up strays but he thinks he will agree with Michael on this one.

5.

Michael stretches out his back, legs interlocked at the ankles, until something clicks along his spine. He exhales slowly, sinking back into the shitty mattress.

They called for lights out fifteen minutes ago. Lewis is still in the bunk above him. Michael looks at the scratches across the metal rods. He had a good workout today, no interruptions, and his arms are nicely sore.

Seventeen minutes.

Lewis moves in his bed, rolling over to the right and for a moment, Michael thinks he will roll right off the edge, but then he is swinging down, silent. Michael holds himself very still.

"I am not interested in fucking."

"Yeah," Lewis says. "I heard."

Michael swallows. The sharpened edge of Lewis's plastic spoon presses into his throat. Lewis is dense and solidly heavy, knees on either side of his hips, one foot digging into his knee.

Michael has seen him fight. In an enclosed space like this, and unarmed, he isn't sure who would come out the better. His fingers itch with excitement.

"I found the picture you left," Lewis says quietly. The spoon doesn't move an inch. His eyes gleam in the dark like an animal.

"Okay," Michael says, not bothering to pretend not to know what he is talking about.

Lewis was fine this morning. He hummed to himself the entire way to breakfast, and he spotted Michael in the gym without even being asked. It wasn't until after dinner that he went all weird and still in himself.

Lewis presses down, just a little. Michael raises an eyebrow.

"Is he alive?" Lewis asks like he doesn't want to show his hand but is doing so anyway. His mouth trembles at the corners. Michael frowns at him. He has seen Lewis hustle in the yard at card games enough times to know that his poker face is better than this.

"Is he."

Oh. Jesus.

Michael laughs. It is too loud of a sound for where they are. He laughs anyway.

"You have issues," he tells Lewis, who only sends him a cutting look.

"That was supposed to make you feel better! Stop crying and all. You miss him, yes? Thought I could help."

Lewis stares at him. Blinks those animal eyes.

Michael makes a frustrated sound in the back of his mouth. He misses Mika. He never has to talk when Mika is around.

"He is being taken care of in that shelter you put him in. I had my people check. I was being nice! Friendly too!"

"We're friends," Lewis says slowly as if he expects Michael to say no.

"Obviously. You are being ridiculous," Michael says. "You think I would kill a dog? No!" He is a little hurt.

"You are the chief suspect in fifteen open murders," Lewis says, flat.

"Not of dogs!"

Lewis looks at him for a long moment before rolling his eyes. "How are you still alive, man? For real? I thought it was a threat."

He pushes off Michael and pulls himself up onto the top bunk, as silent as he climbed down at the start.

"No one else would see this as a bad thing."

He can hear Lewis roll his eyes.

"Literally every other person here would think you were sending a message. And not a good one."

"I was being nice!"

There is a clang of metal against metal, and their cell bars rattle. "Oi! You two! Shut the fuck up. Save the fighting or fucking for the morning."

"Gross, man," Lewis says, and Michael kicks at the underside of his bunk. "You are gross."

Maybe Mika was right when he said that Lewis might not take his generosity in the way he wanted it, Michael considers. He decides not to tell him. He would be too smug if he did.

He palms the sharpened spoon that Lewis had held to his neck and left on his pillow, beside his cheek. It is small and narrow. Michael presses his thumb against the slice, feeling it. He smiles, and tucks it under his sheet. He had needed a new one.

+1.

Sebastian had been small when Michael met him. All eyes and bony knees and dirty hair.

Then he opened up his mouth and his personality crawled out.

Michael has never looked back.

[mclarenyaoi]

どうか

[mvlionheart]

SUMMER SPICE F1 FANFIC BINGO 2024

AO3 Collection | Info & Rules - Challenge / Collection will be open all summer, closing 8/31 - Mildly moderated, all prompts fully open to interpretation - Please check rules before posting to Collection - Open to all F1 ships, no hate please - Authors can post works to the Collection using the bingo card, or wait for some Challenge requests, just have fun and enjoy the summer spice.

[jusst-you-race]

hiii im sending this in bc of the condominium community committee conversation prompt (that's a mouthful 😭) just want to say i LOVE love this fic so much and i'd like to ask for a slice of yukierre domesticity please especially since they live together in the fic iirc!!

it's such a mouthful... if i knew this fic was going to be this popular i probably would have given it a more convenient name lmao... here is some yukierre domesticity!!! these two have such a weird unique dynamic it's very entertaining for the ccc snippet prompts

Pierre Yuki have you seen my hoodie?

The grey one 

I’m trying to do laundry and I cannot find it 

Yuki oh yeah

Pierre Yeah?

Yuki I’m wearing it 

Pierre Right now?

Yuki yep

Pierre That’s my favourite hoodie

Yuki mine too 

Pierre It’s too big for you!

Yuki no it’s perfect size 

it covers my hands 

so they don’t get cold 

Pierre In spring?

Yuki it’s still cold out 

Pierre Why do you always steal my clothes?

Yuki for fun

Pierre I can’t believe you 

Yuki also they make me think of you when I have to go somewhere alone 

Pierre Hmph

You are lucky you’re so cute 

Yuki 🥰

you like me in your clothes 

don’t lie 

Pierre I don’t

Yuki this hoodie even says pierre on the back 

like a label 

Pierre Fine 

I like it 

Happy?

Yuki yes 

I love you 

Pierre Yeah yeah 

Yuki say it back bitch 

Pierre I love you too! 

Yuki 🥰

Pierre 🙄

Where did you even go?

Yuki to get food

I told you this 

Pierre Mm

We’re out of milk 

Yuki I know 

it’s on my list 

I will get everything we need 

Pierre Okay okay 

Be quick 

Yuki demanding 

Pierre That is rich coming from you 

Yuki no 

Pierre Please be quick?

I started thinking about my name being on you 

Yuki you are so horny 

fine I will hurry 

just for you 

Pierre 😘

Yuki well then stop texting me 

or it will take longer 

Pierre Okay bossy 

See you at home baby 

Yuki 🖕

[fourtyforever]

doodletober 9: getting some sweet as hell yukierre up in here with sweet tooth by @12romy <3

[your-ace-cousin-clover]

""With a serious look on his face, Max asks “Do you want a deal with the devil?”

Checo ponders. Or at least he pretends to. The answer has been in his mind, the moment Max has been on his knees. In any universe, the answer would’ve been the same. And just as same as all of those years ago, Fernando would call him stupid."

-

Max is the disowned heir of a corporate empire. Checo is a lawyer struggling to hold on. And the entire Wall Street watches as Red Bull Co. combusts into a trashfire.

Behold the Succession AU

[faithshouseofchaos]

"vampire" yukierre

A/n — okay I never wrote for yuki or yukierre so I’m a little out of my element but I know vampire yuki is a big thing in the discord server

“See I’m still here” — vampire!yuki x human!Pierre

Word count — 277

Fluff

Yuki sat on the edge of the couch, his body trembling with restraint. His usually sharp eyes were dulled, his breath uneven as he pressed his fist against his mouth, trying to will the hunger away. Pierre stood a few feet away, watching him with a mix of concern and determination.

“You can’t keep doing this,” Pierre said, stepping closer. “You’ll waste away.”

“I’ll manage,” Yuki muttered, his voice hoarse. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Pierre knelt in front of him, meeting his gaze. “You’re not hurting me. You’re trusting me.” He tilted his head slightly, exposing his neck. “I won’t let you go through this alone, Yuki.”

Yuki’s sharp intake of breath was the only sound in the room. “Pierre—”

“Do it,” Pierre urged. “Please.”

The hunger was too strong to resist any longer. With a hesitant hand on Pierre’s shoulder, Yuki leaned forward, his fangs brushing against warm skin. He hesitated for a heartbeat, then sank his teeth in, the taste of life itself flooding his senses. Pierre’s fingers tightened on Yuki’s arm, but he stayed still, steady, offering all the strength Yuki lacked.

When Yuki finally pulled away, his lips stained with crimson, he looked at Pierre with something like shame. But Pierre only smiled faintly, his voice soft. “See? I’m still here.”

And for the first time in days, Yuki felt alive.