#and in fact i still do it but i will start counting in french or spanish and about halfway through i’ll go to the other language | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thebearchives · 2 years

Text

leclerc's type | CL16

PAIRING: charles leclerc x fem!reader

REQUESTED: [X] yes [] no

WORD COUNT: 3.2k

SYNOPSIS: who would have thought that all three leclerc brothers had the same taste in women?

WARNINGS: i have no idea how f3 works aside from the fact that there’s sprint and feature races so if there is any inaccurate information…close your eyes, some french and Italian + translations, arthur being a little shit

as always, don't be a ghost reader!

charles and yourself had yet to expose your relationship to either of your families, so it was a surprise, really, when charles asked you to accompany him to arthur’s race in monza.

with his arms wrapped around you, a pout painted on his lips, he whined out a small “pretty please?”

you cupped his puffed up cheeks, “you are such a baby, charles. i didn’t say no yet.”

“yet?” his pout intensified, “please, amour, i want you to meet my family and everyone is going to be there.”

“are you sure?” you caressed his cheek with your thumb, “we’ve never really talked about meeting the family yet. what sprung this on?”

“i just think we’re ready,” charles’ eyes were so soft as they gazed into yours, “when i think of my family, you’re included. even if everyone is going to be there in italy, without you, it wouldn’t feel complete to me.”

you couldn’t help it, using your hands that were cupped around his cheeks to pull him closer. you pushed up and connected your lips together in a sweet kiss.

when you pulled back, charles’ lips were still puckered slightly, his eyes shining with unspeakable amounts of love. you gave him a watery smile and he smiled back.

“you can’t say those things unless you want me to cry,” you pulled a hand back to wipe your eyes before the unshed tears made their way down your face, “i’d love to meet your family, mon cher.” my dear.

charles’ nose crinkled as you poked it with your forefinger, “je t’adore, mon amour.” i adore you, my love.

“je t'aime plus que tout au monde,” you wrapped your arms around his neck and hugged him close, placing a kiss against the base of his neck. i love you more than anything else in the world.

the weeks leading up to the races in italy became increasingly more hectic. you had started with going to work like regular, while charles would leave to go to his own races, calling you as soon as he landed in whatever city he was to complain about how he wished he could be back in your arms.

then, you asked for days off from work, and when the request was approved, you felt yourself starting to panic. it was happening. you would be meeting charles’ family for the first time. the calls between you and charles turned from soft ‘i miss you’s to ‘is this appropriate for when i meet your mom? should i go shopping? i have no clothes, charles, your mother is going to hate me’.

charles had only smiled softly, wishing he could have been there in person to quell your fears, “mon amour, what you wear will have no effect on how my mother will perceive you. you could show up in a garbage bag for all she’d care.”

you had scowled at the camera and charles laughed before continuing, “i love you, chérie, and i know my mother will love you just as much as i do…okay, maybe a little less because no one can love you as much as me.”

you had sighed, flopping back on your bed which had been covered with clothes, “i’m sorry for acting this way. i’m just nervous.”

“you’ve nothing to apologize for,” he wished he could jump through the phone to reach you, “and nothing to be nervous for either, ange.”

you sat up abruptly, “what if your brothers hate me?”

charles had thrown his head back and laughed loudly, sobering up when you whined out his name, “this is serious, charles!”

“mon amour, they would be crazy not to like you. i’d be surprised if they didn’t like you as much as i did.”

and if only either of you had realized how right he would be.

you had flown in with charles at the start of the week, a bundle of nerves sparking in your chest that charles had quickly extinguished by telling you that his mother would be arriving later in the week.

well, it was now later and the anxiety that you had been suppressing was bursting at the seams.

you weren’t due to meet charles’ family officially until friday after free practices, with charles having planned an outing and dinner for his whole family before the races began for him and arthur. he had told you that he wanted to surprise his family, and as such, you had to avoid them as best as you could while on the paddock.

you couldn’t help but be thankful for charles’ idea, having been panicking the entire week leading up to the race at the idea of running into charles’ family without charles himself.

and so, that led you to where you were now, walking around the paddock bright and early on media day, staying as far away from the ferrari garage as you could, to avoid any run-ins with the leclerc family, though life never seemed to work out in your favour ever.

you had finally caved, walking back towards the ferrari hospitality, in need of coffee and a place to escape the beaming sun. what you hadn’t accounted for was the tall man standing near the entrance, conversing with who you recognized to be charles’ manager. the two said a few words before the latter was off, no doubt making his way to charles.

the taller man turned around, and your eyes lightly widened as you realized you had been standing behind charles’ older brother.

your eyes darted to the floor as his fell on your figure, “oh, i am so sorry. i’m totally blocking your way in.”

wow, he sounded a lot like charles.

you realized, belatedly, that he had in fact been blocking the entrance, “oh, that’s okay! i only just got here.” you gave him a small smile.

it’s okay, you thought to yourself, he has no reason to think i’m charles’ girlfriend, he probably won’t even remember this interaction by later today.

he moved over, hands gesturing to the door behind him, “after you.”

oh, fuck, he was coming in too.

you nodded at him in gratitude, “thank you.”

you walked inside, mentally freaking out at how lorenzo was right behind you. you ignored him as best as you could, making a beeline towards the coffee station to the side. lorenzo had followed you.

“sorry,” he gave you a sheepish smile, starting on his own coffee on the station next to yours, “i hope you don’t think i’m following you.”

you were stuck. although not ideal for the plans you and charles had made, you had to play your cards right in this moment. first impressions would have to be really good if you were expecting a positive response from charles’ family.

you turned your gaze from the coffee machine to the eldest leclerc brother, “wouldn’t hold it entirely past you. for all i know, you could have been blocking the entrance just for this moment.”

ah, humour, your go-to route for any situation ever. worried? make a joke. sad? make a joke. overthinking? just make a joke!!!

lorenzo laughed lightly, “i promise, i wasn’t. i had just been on my way to grab a coffee when my brother’s manager had stopped me for a quick conversation and you came up just as he left.”

“don’t get too worked up,” you chuckled as the speed of his explanation. you could see where charles got some of his habits from, “i believe you. i’d been there to see todt walk off.”

from the corner of your eye, you could see him nod. as you busied yourself with making your coffee to your liking, you missed lorenzo’s calculating gaze as he gave you a once-over.

just as you threw away the used coffee pod, lorenzo spoke up again, “i’m lorenzo, by the way, charles’ brother.”

“i know,” you smiled at him. as worried as you had been, lorenzo had been very easy to talk to.

“i’m y/n, charles’ not brother.”

your response had elicited a loud laugh from the older leclerc, “you’re quite the joker, aren’t you?”

you opted to shrug your shoulders with a small smile, blowing on your coffee before taking a sip. more sugar.

lorenzo made small talk, “do you work here at ferrari?”

you shook your head, “no, no. would be amazing though, no? especially if i could travel the world as part of my job. charles is lucky.”

fuck, you wanted to hit your head against the wall, why would you bring charles into the conversation. oh god, please let lorenzo just brush past that.

he hummed in acknowledgement, “he is, indeed. but he’s also very deserving of it, you know? i don’t mean to sound biased but,”

“i know what you mean,” you continued, always ready to gush about your boyfriend, “he’s worked really hard to get to where he is. youngest driver for ferrari since 1961, that’s quite the achievement.”

the two of you chatted lightly for a few more minutes before lorenzo asked another question, “so then, what’s a pretty girl like you doing here alone?”

you tensed, cheeks reddening at his words. you opened your mouth and then closed it, repeating before you finally opened it to respond, “i–”

“lorenzo!” both of your heads turned to where the sound came from. your eyes caught sight of the figure waving his hands in the air, beckoning lorenzo over. it was arthur.

“sounds like someone needs your help,” thank god for arthur, huh?

“yeah, it seems i have to go now.” lorenzo looked back at you, “it was great meeting you, y/n.”

“likewise,” you nodded to him as you watched him leave, only one thought circulating your mind.

holy shit, your boyfriend’s older brother just tried to flirt with you.

luckily, the rest of media day had been rather uneventful and you were soon back in the hotel room you shared with charles, said driver gone to hang out with his brothers for a bit.

friday morning had gone by smoothly, and with a little over an hour until the free practices, you were sitting in the ferrari hospitality, grabbing yourself a snack.

what you hadn’t noticed was the two men who had been looking at you from a distance away. lorenzo and arthur, with the former pointing you out discretely to the latter.

“n'est-elle pas jolie?” lorenzo nudged his youngest brother. isn’t she super pretty?

arthur nodded, “elle l'est. tu penses que j'ai une chance?” she is. do you think i have a chance?

lorenzo gaped at his younger brother, who laughed cheekily, “je l'ai vue en premier, arthur, n'y pense même pas.” i saw her first, arthur, don't even think about it.

the younger one shrugged, “oui, et tu as probablement ruiné tes chances avec elle. ton flirt est horrible.” yeah, and you probably ruined your chances with her. your flirting is horrible.

he pushed off from where he had been leaning, “watch and learn, mon frère. elle ne pourra pas résister à mon charme.” she won’t be able to resist my charm.

lorenzo watched in disbelief as his younger brother made his way to you, “du charme, mon cul. tout votre charme n'est qu'une copie de charles et moi.” charm, my ass. all of your charm is just a copy of charles and i.

a throat cleared behind you and you turned in your seat. the smiling face of the youngest leclerc was the first thing you saw, body freezing for a split second.

he pointed to the chair across from you, “is this seat taken?”

you took a look at the chair he pointed at before looking back at him, “not at all. do you nee-”

you watched as the boy sat down, hands coming up to rest on the table, “you don’t mind, right?”

your brows were furrowed in slight confusion as you tried to absorb what just happened, “uh, no. no, it’s alright.”

“i’m arthur,” he stuck his hand out.

you returned the handshake, “y/n.”

you couldn’t help but blush slightly, bewildered look on your face, as arthur brought your hand up and placed a kiss on the back of your hand. wow, he was laying it on thick.

“beautiful name for a beautiful girl,” unlike when lorenzo had called you pretty, you didn’t freeze up. instead, you found yourself giggling.

you pulled your hand out from arthur’s light hold, using it to cover your mouth, “oh, i am so sorry. i promise i’m not laughing at you. it’s just that you are very cute.”

arthur’s face dropped, “cute?”

god, his pout was just like charles’.

you nodded, a smile still lingering on your lips, “adorable, even.”

you didn’t know how it was possible but his face dropped even more, “adorable??”

you let out a loud laugh, “oh, mon dieu. you’re just like your brother.”

and you fumbled again. wow, you really couldn’t go a conversation without talking about your boyfriend, huh?

“lorenzo?” arthur asked, “wait, you speak french?”

you only smiled, letting him guess the answers to either question.

arthur took your smile as a yes to both questions, “listen, i am nothing like my brother. il est complètement idiot quand il s'agit de parler aux jolies filles. moi, d'un autre côté, je suis un naturel.” he's a total idiot when it comes to talking to pretty girls. me, on the other hand? i'm a natural.

“ah, is that what this is? you being a natural?” you smirked, watching as his cheeks flushed slightly.

“well, sometimes, the really pretty girls make me a bit nervous.” arthur scratched the back of his head. ah, he was like a mini charles.

you smiled, “well, as honoured as i am to be considered a ‘really pretty girl’, i’m afraid i’m a bit too old for you, bud.”

arthur groaned, planting his head in his arms against the table, “this is going horribly for me.”

“i told you, your charm is non-existent,” another voice called out from behind you. it was lorenzo.

he came around the table and smacked the back of arthur’s head, “tu es vraiment un idiot.” you are such an idiot.

you laughed at arthur’s sorrowful expression, “oh, i think he’s got quite the charm. just not enough years under the belt.”

lorenzo smiled apologetically at you, “i am so sorry for whatever he has said to you in the past five minutes.”

you waved him off, “no worries, arthur is quite the company.”

you looked at the time, deciding it would be good to go back to the garage to see charles once before he started his practices, “well, boys. i’ve got to head out. it was great meeting you, arthur! and seeing you again today, lorenzo, i’m sure i’ll catch you guys again somewhere on the paddock.”

the two brothers returned your goodbye, waiting for you to leave before arguing about who had a more realistic shot with you.

you couldn’t help but laugh as you heard a few seconds of their conversation. if only charles had realized how right he would be about his brothers liking you as much as him. turns out, all the leclerc brothers had the same taste in girls.

although you had told them you would, you didn’t see the two leclerc brothers for the rest of your day on the paddock. you went home with charles soon after the free practices ended, both excited to get ready and have dinner with his family.

having already met and conversed with both of charles’ brothers, you couldn’t help but feel less nervous for the dinner. pascale had been the only one you hadn’t met yet, and objectively, she was the one to impress. but now that you knew all three of her boys, you were sure that she had to be nice to have raised such kind boys.

now, the pair of you were sat in charles’ ferrari, driving to the restaurant of his choosing. one of his hands rested on your thigh, rubbing circles against the skin.

“sei bellissima, amore.” you loved it when charles spoke in italian, something about the way he sounded just drove your head crazy. you look so beautiful, love.

“grazie, tesoro,” thanks, honey. you gave him a soft smile, “but please don’t say anything else in italian, you know i can’t understand it.”

“i’ll just have to teach you, then,” charles stopped at a stop light, the hand on your thigh turning around as if asking for your hand.

you placed your hand in his and he squeezed it, “you are less nervous today.”

you squeezed his hand back, playing with the watch that was on his wrist, “oui, i actually met your brothers yesterday and today.”

“oh, no. how are you recovering?” charles joked.

“they were quite the charmers, i will say that.” you sighed, looking at your boyfriend’s side profile, “you guys have a lot in common, actually.”

“only good things, i hope.”

“well, i know that you all have excellent taste.” at his confused expression, you waved him off, “story for the dinner, maybe.”

soon, charles had parked and you two were walking into the restaurant hand-in-hand. from afar, you could make out the rough figures of lorenzo and arthur at the table in the far left corner. as you got closer, you could see a woman sitting with them. pascale.

when you two got close enough to the table, you pulled your hand from charles’ grasp, instead clasping your own hands together at the front of your body. charles gave you a small smile filled with reassurance before taking the final step, garnering the attention of his whole family.

lorenzo’s eyes moved past charles and onto you, a confused look on his face, “y/n?”

arthur’s head shot up at the sound of your name, “y/n? she’s here?”

his frantic eyes zeroed into yours, before looking over at his brother confused.

charles smiled, reaching a hand out to wrap around your waist and pull you forward, “maman, boys, je vous présente ma petite amie, y/n.” i want you to meet my girlfriend,

you smiled, “bonjour! ravi de vous rencontrer tous,” your eyes went from pascale to the two boys in front of you, “officiellement cette fois.” hello! nice to meet you all…officially this time.

at charles’ announcement, both brothers felt their jaws drop.

“merde,” lorenzo breathed out, face growing redder as he looked at your wide smile. shit.

arthur closed his eyes, hands coming up to hide his face “oh mon dieu, on a flirté avec la petite amie de charles.” oh my god, we flirted with charles' girlfriend.

“tu as fait quoi?!” you did what?!

6K notes · View notes

golden-cherry · 10 months

Text

deal - cl16 (10/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: It's dinner time. Time to find new friends, since your roommate decides to treat you like shit.

Warnings: fluff, angst (whoops), asshole!Charles, alcohol consumption, Google translated French, swear words

Word Count: 3.9k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: a podium part! grande, Charlie! feedback is appreciated

Charles' mood has deteriorated quite a bit between his lunch and his return.

Funny, easy-going Charles, who would have loved to drive to dinner with you in potato sacks, is now sitting next to you in the Renault and the silence is deafening. Not a word does he say, but at least he's not crushing the leather of the steering wheel with his hands like yesterday. He doesn't just sit there like a statue, but in every now and then he rubs his forehead, runs his hand through his hair, or twists the rings on his long fingers.

The fact that he looks and behaves like a real person and not a sculpture calms you down a bit, but the stress is still clearly visible in his face. At least he looks more approachable, like you could talk to him. Like he needs someone to talk to about what happened.

Determined to get him out of his foul mood, you turn in his direction on the seat so you can look at him properly. "You want to talk about it?"

Your roommate clenches his jaws even tighter and exhales loudly, as if annoyed by your question. Good start to a conversation. "About what?" He stares ahead, propping his elbow against the car door as he steers the vehicle with his right hand.

You furrow your eyebrows. "About whatever is going on inside you right now."

He gives a short laugh, but it sounds spiteful and not at all like the Charles you know. "It's none of your business."

So at this point you've both arrived again, how nice. Your gaze moves from his eyes, to his nose, to his mouth, and you try to read his expression, but find only irritation and displeasure. Finally, you lower your gaze to your hands folded in your lap. "At least pull yourself together for your friends. Otherwise you'll screw up everyone's evening with your bad mood," it slips out of you.

"I won't."

He knows that you know that something is wrong. And if he wanted to talk about it, he would have answered differently than so snippy and irritated, so annoyed. But apparently he'd rather sit grimly next to you and take out his frustration on you, which would be fine with you if you knew the reason.

You can't help him if you don't know what it's about, and you'd love to grab Charles by the shoulders and shake him until he comes clean. But you're afraid he's not one to be talked down to or pushed into something he doesn't want to do, so you let it go at that. If he wants to talk, he knows where to find you.

You don't know the restaurant Charles stops the car in front of, but it looks beautiful from the outside with the ivy vines winding around lamps and awnings. Some of the tables inside are occupied and even from the car you can tell that the food on the plates looks delicious.

As you unbuckle your seatbelt and reach for the door handle, your roommate doesn't move a bit. "You go on in. I'll park the car and catch up with you." He doesn't even look at you, but clenches his jaw and waits for you to exit the car. So you just nod at him and get out.

You're about to ask him what name the table is reserved in, when he leans over the center console and closes the passenger door from the inside before sitting down normally and speeding off, disappearing around the next corner. He leaves you on the side of the road, and the wintry evening wind swirls around you so coldly that you can't be mad at him, but enter the restaurant directly, where you stop at the hostess's counter.

"Bonsoir," she greets you with a friendly smile, typing away briefly on the iPad in her hand. "Avez-vous réservé une table?" good evening. have you reserved a table?

In your mind, you give Charles a pat on the back of the head. Couldn't he have waited a moment longer?

Behind you, the glass door opens and other guests enter the restaurant. You press your lips together. "Bonsoir. Une table est réverée, mais je ne sais pa à quel nom," you try to say in your best French, and apparently the hostess even understands you. good evening. a table is reserved, I just don't know what name.

The friendly hostess opens her mouth, but before she can say anything, a slender hand rests on your shoulder. "Je crois qu'elle est avec nous." I think she's with us. Confused, you turn around and look into giant brown eyes. "Y/N, right?" The woman in front of you is so beautiful that you can only nod mutely. Smiling, she takes her hand off your shoulder and looks at the hostess. "La table est réservée au nom Gasly." the table is reserved in the name of gasly.

Behind her stands a young man with one hand resting loosely on her hip. He smiles at you as he notices your puzzled look. "We're Charles' friends. I'm Pierre and this is-"

"Kika," the brunette grins, interlocking her arm with yours, "nice to meet you. Where's Charles?" she asks as the three of you follow the hostess who takes you to a long, set table. There are individual chairs on one side, with padded booths across from them.

You shrug your shoulders. "He's parking the car. I should go in already."

"Ah." Pierre pulls one of the chairs back so Kika can sit down - a gentleman, that is - but she just shakes her head.

"Girls belong on the booths, Pierre," she says, and before you know it, you're sitting side by side at one end of the table. "So, Charles said you're a photographer?"

Charles. English pronunciation. Somehow it sounds strange, so out of place for the Monegasque. The fact that his friends pronounce his name so differently unsettles you, as does the fact that he seems to have been talking about you to his friends. But if Charles's friends call him Charles and not Scharl, then it must be right, no?

You nod. "Right."

Kika picks up her purse and sets it next to her on the bench. "How cool! So where do you work?"

Before you can answer - you wouldn't even know what exactly, to be honest - Charles pops up behind Pierre, who's sitting across from Kika. "What are you talking about?" He puts both hands on his friend's shoulders and squeezes them briefly before standing next to him at the table and leaning over.

"We're talking shit about you," Kika jokes, also leaning over the table so that the two of them can kiss each other on the cheek. In contrast to just now, he actually seems changed, just like yesterday when you went to Joris. It's almost creepy how well he can mask his feelings.

"Doesn't surprise me," your roommate replies with a smile and sits down on the free chair facing you. But he doesn't acknowledge you at all.

Is he ignoring you? Did you do something wrong during the time he wasn't home that he doesn't pay attention to you now? Or is he angry because you just gave him a piece of your mind? If it's the latter, then he can go to hell.

But maybe it's the former. Maybe you shouldn't have written him while he was gone. Just picked out clothes, got ready, and waited for him. Maybe you misjudged the friendship.

You make yourself smaller next to Kika, almost invisible, and watch as more and more people join the small group. They all introduce themselves briefly, but you immediately forget their names as they sit down. The seat next to you remains empty, for which you are somewhat grateful. But the fact that the person you know best here gives you the cold shoulder makes you feel uneasy -

- and suddenly you are ten years old again, in the back seat of your father's car, trying to breathe shallowly so as not to provoke a sudden choleric fit in him.

You avert your eyes from the people and study the menu, on which the actually not-so-expensive dishes are written, so you don't even notice how someone else joins the group until your name comes up.

"Y/N?"

You look up and see the blue eyes of your helpful stranger from this afternoon. This time, however, he is wearing a white shirt, which greatly accentuates his tanned skin, the top two buttons are undone despite the weather, and light-colored pants hang from his hips. On his head, instead of a cap, are now brown curls that hang a bit in his forehead.

You'd be lying if you said he wasn't incredibly handsome. And as you look at him, his smile widens.

The feeling from just now has fizzled out as you stand up and walk towards him. As you face each other, he spreads his arms, wraps them around your middle, and squeezes your body tightly against him. "I didn't think we'd meet again so soon." His arms are so long that his hands are on your sides while you have your arms around his neck. You're so close you can breathe in his scent.

"Is this a good thing or a bad thing?" you ask him as you pull away from each other, but his hands remain on your hips. He looks down at you.

"You two know each other?"

You turn around, feeling Lando's hands slide off you, and behind you stands Charles, who looks at you with a look you can't interpret. Apparently you're talking to each other again.

Uncertainly, you look from him to Lando. "Yes. We met at the grocery store this afternoon."

"She was shopping for her roommate," Lando continues, then points to Charles, who smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "So you're the roommate, I guess?" He looks back at you and smiles. "I knew Charles had a roommate, but I didn't know she was that beautiful."

"And bam, there went my hunger," Kika calls out to you, rolling his eyes playfully.

Embarrassed, you look back to Lando, whose gaze is already on you. "Shall we?"

To your amazement, Lando sits down in the empty seat next to you and not with his friends. He pulls your menu over a bit, even though his own is right in front of him, and scoots a bit closer to you so you can browse the dishes together.

"So," he finally says, leaning back. "I'm afraid I can't find any canned soup."

You nudge him with your shoulder. "I'll eat something else, too."

"There's no BigMac on here, either."

Before you can shove him off the bench, Charles interjects. "Canned soup? BigMac?"

Lando nods. "We found out today at the supermarket that Y/N's culinary journey ended somewhere between canned soup and BigMac." He points his index finger at a spot on the menu. "Ah, look. Kids' plate, with fries and chicken nuggets. How about it?"

You roll your eyes. "I think I'll order the carbonara."

"Ohhhh. Are we venturing out of our comfort zone?"

"Shut up, you dumbass," you say, playfully annoyed, and are glad to see the waitress come to the table shortly after, taking both drink and food orders. You ignore Charles' cold stare.

Kika taps you on the thigh. "You two know each other already, too?" She points to you and Lando, who has risen briefly to greet someone at the other end of the table.

"Since noon today, to be exact." The waitress puts the drinks on the table. Coke for Kika and you, and a beer each for the three guys sitting with you. "I went shopping and couldn't find some things. He was kind enough to help me find them."

"You didn't tell me that." Charles tone is as cold as his gaze. You would have preferred him not to talk to you at all. You don't like this Charles. Not at all.

You don't know what you've done that he can be so friendly and lighthearted toward others, but act completely idiotic toward you. But you definitely don't let that happen to you. "I had to go to another supermarket because ours doesn't have some of the things you wanted." You raise an eyebrow and shrug. "Lando helped me find the sesame seeds and chili flakes."

"That's very kind of him." Charles's expression is impenetrable, but anyone who knows Charles even a little can pick out the underlying sarcasm.

You smile at him sugary sweet. "Yeah, right? He even walked me home and carried the bag."

Kika, whose gaze bounces back and forth between you like a tennis match, is glad Charles doesn't respond, just rolls his eyes. "And you two have only been living together for two days, right? What's it like having a roommate?"

Your gaze wanders to Charles, expecting a snarky comment or whatever he would come up with to put you down right now. But the opposite is true. His previously serious expression softens, his shoulders don't seem so tense anymore, and the little smile around his mouth makes your heart skip a beat, even though he was acting pretty out of line until just now. He's looking at you - really looking at you. This is Charles right here. Your Charles.

"Y/N Is the best roommate you could ever ask for," he replies, and you feel the blood rush to your cheeks. "She's kind, considerate, and so funny. I couldn't ask for a better one."

You're definitely still going to talk about what's happened so far this evening, and you're definitely going to throw words back in his face about how dare he ignore you for half the evening. But right now, you're too relieved that Charles is Charles again that you can't even be mad.

Kika pokes you in the side. "So what's Charles like?"

"Charles," you begin, but don't quite know how to answer. Charles is so much more than your roommate. He's your savior in times of need. Your confidant. Your friend. He's that warm feeling that spreads through you when you're together.

Charles is everything.

When you say his name, he barely noticeably screws up his face.

"You can go ahead and say he's an asshole," Pierre grins, catching Charles' fist directly as he gently punches him in the shoulder.

"Does he leave his dirty socks everywhere? We were all on vacation together once and you couldn't enter his hotel room without stepping on his dirty laundry," comes Max, sitting next to Pierre and thankfully far enough away that he only gets a nasty look.

"Or does he take too long to style his hair? Ouch!" Kika rubs his shin and gives Charles a venomous look. "What? You take longer in the bathroom than I do in some cases!"

"You're all soooooo funny." Your roommate leans back in his chair and clasps his hands behind his head. The sleeves of his shirt stretch across his muscles. He winks at you. "I'm the very best roommate."

You take a sip of Coke and look at him over the rim of your glass, grinning. "The jury's still out."

Several waiters bring the food and the conversation takes its course. The carbonara tastes delicious and the conversation between Kika, Charles, Lando, Pierre and Max changes topics so frequently that you can't keep up with questions and laughter. In the meantime, Kika asks for your number "so you can talk to someone other than Charles" and you are infinitely grateful to have found a friend in her.

The small group you are in seems like a small family and as much as they include you in everything, you feel like a part of it. A feeling that is foreign to you, but doesn't feel strange.

You knew that Charles must have such great friends. But you didn't expect them to accept you directly as part of their group.

The plates are getting emptier, the conversations are getting louder, and people are changing their seats to be able to talk to others. Charles has gotten up to sit down three seats away, but not before asking you if it's okay if he leaves you alone for a moment, whereupon Kika has wrapped her slender arm around your shoulder, saying, "Don't worry, Charles. Y/N is in good hands with me".

In between, he still gives you glances as if to ask if everything is okay, to which you just smile and nod.

"So, was the carbonara better than canned soup?" Lando takes a sip of his beer.

"Nothing comes close to my favorite canned soup," you joke, "but I have to admit, I didn't know pasta could taste so great."

The Brit laughs up. "I saw that. All that was missing was you licking the plate."

You cross your arms in front of your chest and act offended. "Would it have surprised you?"

"Definitely not." He slips his tongue into his cheek, which is much more attractive than it should be. "So, about dinner-"

From across the table, someone calls his name and you notice him hesitate to get up, but the guys wave him over energetically.

Lando looks at you. "Is it okay if I just-"

You wave him off and put a hand on his shoulder. "It's all good. Go ahead and see your friends. It's definitely not the last time we'll talk."

He reaches for your hand on his shoulder and presses a fleeting kiss to its knuckles before standing up. He doesn't let go of your hand until the distance between you grows too far. "See you in a bit."

Before you can realize what just happened, Kika catches your attention by scooting close to you. "What was that about?"

Your gaze lingers on Lando, who slaps his buddy on the shoulder and then sits down on a free chair there. He glances back at you and winks before turning to his friends. "I have no idea."

As you turn toward Kika, Charles catches your gaze. Despite the dim lighting in the restaurant, you can see that his cheeks are flushed, almost certainly due to the beer. His smile is warm and infectious, and as you smile back he stands up and makes his way over to you.

As he plops down in the seat next to you, he's still smiling. "Hi."

"Hi yourself."

Your roommate bites his lower lip and nervously twirls the rings on his fingers, and you wish you could have grabbed his hands and intertwined your fingers with his. But even though everything seems to be fine between you again, you have a relatively poor grasp on him, which is why you let it go.

"Listen," he begins, turning his whole body to face you, "I'm sorry I was so shitty to you." He looks down at your hands. "You - you were so understanding and kind and you just wanted to help and I treated you like crap. And you definitely didn't deserve that." When he looks you in the eye again, his gaze is soft and there's something sparkling in his green eyes that makes him look so young you melt.

Pull yourself together.

"It's okay," you reply, taking a sip of your Coke to wash down the lump in your throat.

"It's not. I don't know what got into me, but my behavior wasn't okay." He takes a deep breath, as if he needs to buy time to think about his next words. "I, um, was with my ex and-"

"Charles," you interrupt him gently, and he barely flinches. But you're so close that, of course, you can't miss it. "You don't have to tell me if you're not ready for it. You don't have to tell me at all if you don't want to. But if you're ever that mean to me again and don't give me a reason, I'll kill you in your sleep."

Charles smile turns into a grin. "Then I guess I'll sleep with one eye open now." He takes a big swig of his beer. A drop of it escapes his lips and runs out of the corner of his mouth toward his chin. When he catches it with his tongue, you have to look away for a moment. "I wasn't lying, by the way. You're actually the best roommate anyone could ever ask for."

"Stop it."

"I'm serious." He puts his beer down and looks at you. "We've known each other for two days - two days - but somehow I feel like we've known each other forever, you know what I mean?" You can only nod in response. "And I've never had that feeling with anyone." He takes a deep breath. "And I also think I can tell you everything, which is why I really need to tell you that I-"

"Charles!" The guy the roommates had been talking to until recently sits down in the vacant chair across from you. "I heard about Annika, by the way. I'm really sorry."

In all your life, you've never witnessed how quickly the mood can turn.

The easy-going Charles, the warm, friendly Charles, is gone as quickly as a shooting star. His body is tense to bursting, his fingers are clawing at his pants, and his jaws are clenched so tight you fear he's breaking his teeth. He doesn't even breathe.

Is Annika his ex? The one he was probably with today? Is that why he was in a bad mood?

He doesn't breathe, for a minute he hasn't taken a breath, just stares ahead, through the guy who apparently realized his choice of subject was absolute shit. Charles isn't present, as if he's on another star. Like he's short-circuiting. But by God, the man needs to breathe before he turns blue.

Without giving it much thought, you press your knee against his. You're so focused on helping him that you ignore the heat of his skin burning through the layers of fabric, and the goosebumps spreading all over your body, and the closeness you've never felt with anyone before, even though there are two pairs of jeans between you. You focus only on him, on making him breathe again.

Until he pulls his knee away. Like you've burned him, electrocuted him. As if you had crossed a line. And for a moment your heart stops because you think you've done everything wrong.

But then he presses his knee against yours again, more than that, he moves a little closer to you, so that not only your knees but also your thighs touch. Fire spreads through your veins even though your skin isn't even touching, but just being near him, this familiarity, causes lightning to twitch through your veins into your brain and your thoughts to stop. All you feel is heat. All you feel is Charles.

Charles next to you takes a deep breath, but you're too absorbed by him to realize he's looking down at you. "I'm alright. I have everything I need."

next part

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc imagine #carlos sainz jr #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc prompt #Charles Leclerc fanfic #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #max verstappen

1K notes · View notes

waitingonher · 1 year

Note

hiii!! I saw your Percy x Hecate reader and was wondering if you could do a percy x Aphrodite reader?? 🫶🏽🫶🏽

percy jackson dating a child of aphrodite

pairing: percy jackson x reader

content warning: coupley things

word count: 916

author's note: hi!! sorry this took so long (finals r around the corner) enjoy tho! i also put my own gas station order in this LOL

you and percy have got to be the most attractive couple on the planet. honestly, it’s an unspoken camp rite of passage to have a crush on at least one of you two. everyone literally has their own story about how they have/had a crush on either you or percy (or both) it’s crazy.

percy is such a green flag!!

HE FOLLOWS THE SIDEWALK RULE. no matter where you are, you WILL be walking on the inside.

you could be on a super dangerous quest being chased by monsters and percy would still make sure he’s running on the outside. like i’m pretty sure being ran over is the least of your worries… but it’s still cute.

percy is actually so obsessed with the fact that you can speak french/other romance languages. he’d make up any excuse just to hear you speak them.

all of a sudden he’s paying attention in his spanish class and he needs your help pronouncing certain words!!

or one day he’d randomly come up to you and would start speaking to you in french??? turns out he’s been secretly learning it without you knowing?? percy’s 387 day duolingo streak is all because he wanted to hear you speak your language more. he’s definitely dedicated!

sometimes when you’re talking, percy would suddenly be like “wow, she’s so pretty???” and he’d (accidentally) zone out, just completely admiring you. he knows that you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen, but sometimes he just has to take a moment to take it all in.

shopping dates with percy!!

you’d ask him which top looks the best on you and then he’d tell you all of them?? he really thinks you can afford all 10 shirts you showed him.

“perce, between those three pants, which one looked better on me?” you ask, holding one of the pairs against your body. your boyfriend looks deep in thought before coming to a decision, “all of them,” he declares. “babe,” you groan, “you can’t choose them all, choose one.” percy looks genuinely worried when he realizes he has to actually decide on one, because he thinks that you looked absolutely gorgeous in all of them. so he comes up with the only other idea that makes sense, “well i don’t mind buying them all for you. besides, you looked super great in them.” you immediately shake your head, “percy, i’m not about to let you drop $150 on three pairs of pants. that’s actually insane.” “but-” “no percy.”

HE KNOWS WHAT COLOR JEWELRY YOU WEAR. percy absolutely refuses to be one of those lousy boyfriends who don't even know what kind of jewelry their girlfriend wears.

he’s been patiently waiting for the day when someone asks which color you prefer.

this guy has your gas station order down to a tee!

percy walks up to the passenger door with a plastic white bag in hand. he opens the door and begins to take out its contents, “thanks perce! you got my-” “i got your arizona, the green tea flavor, and your hot fries. and yes, i made sure to shake all the bags to make sure i got the one that was optimally filled,” he responds, a smug expression spreading across his face. with an impressed look, you nod your head in approval, “wow babe, you’ve really got my order down.” percy nods his head pridefully, “i know.”

dates where you two have to dress up are one of his favorites!!

him seeing you all dolled up…whewww…someone call 911 for him.

despite how much percy hates dressing up, he’d do it if it means he gets to see you all dressed up.

percy makes you flower bouquets!!

they’re always so unique and special every time?? you didn’t even know that camp had such a wide variety of flowers until he started making you bouquets.

and he always makes sure to keep a flower in his cabin so he knows when it’s time to make you a new one jdfsklds

one of percy’s favorite things to do with you are little skincare nights!

you’d come over to his cabin and you guys would light some candles and make tea. overall it’s a very calming ambience!

even though it’s terrible for his skin, percy has an affinity for peel-off face masks. every single time, without fail, he’ll make some sort of joke about how he’s shedding. LMAO

you look over in the bathroom mirror to see your boyfriend applying the very thing you hate, a peel-off face mask, “love, why can’t you be normal and use a sheet mask for once? or even a clay one like mine?” you point to your face. percy takes a quick glance at you in the mirror and shrugs, continuing to apply the mask onto his skin, “those ones are lame, and it’s not fun if i can’t peel it off,” he responds, very concentrated on spreading the mask around. you cringe when he gets a glob of the mask onto his fluffy headband. “well the formulas aren’t really good and it’s super irritating for your skin, babe,” you tell him, hoping that the thought of a damaged skin barrier scares him out of using peel-off masks. “y/n, you can have the good skin. i’m fine with a damaged skin barrier or whatever,” percy replies, trying to remove the mask from his headband. you roll your eyes, “whatever, lizard face.”

you two are actually a match made in heaven <333

#percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson fluff #percy jackson fic #hoo x reader #heroes of olympus x reader #heroes of olympus #percy jackson and the olympians

2K notes · View notes

zepskies · 1 month

Text

Imagine: Soldier Boy Getting Jealous...

Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x F. Reader || (past Frenchie x F. Reader)

Request: Soldier Boy finding out you had something with Frenchie, years before meeting him.

Word Count: 1K

Tags/Warnings: Jealousy lol (With a hint of spice.~)

Imagine: Ben getting jealous over your past relationship with Frenchie.

He doesn't care.

Because he doesn't care...

When you sit him down in the living room of your apartment and tell him you used to date Frenchie, Ben's reaction is mild at best. To the point where it kind of concerns you.

Ben raises a brow and gives a deep hum.

"Oh, really? That limey bastard?" he remarks. He takes a sip from his tumbler of whiskey. You give him a weary sigh.

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't call him that," you reply. You and Frenchie are still friends. Your "entanglement" was years ago, before he even started hooking up with Cherie.

But you still want to be honest with Ben. You two have been dating for a few months now, and it's actually serious. No one's more surprised than you by that fact, but...you're happy. You think he is too.

At your response, however, Ben rolls his eyes and continues drinking. You tilt your head in suspicion.

"So you're chill?" you ask.

"Chill?" he quirks a brow at you. Your lips form a smile.

"You're okay with this," you amend.

Ben shrugs and turns on the TV, trying to navigate the streaming apps. You’d put him on to Game of Thrones. Even three seasons into his binge-watching, he doesn’t want to admit that he’s hooked.

"You're fucking a real man now, sweetheart. No skin off my nose," he says.

It's your turn to roll your eyes, despite a warm blush stinging your cheeks.

But the next time you all go out together to a club in the city, Ben watches you leave his side to say hello to your friends: Annie, Hughie, Frenchie and Kimiko. Frenchie takes your hands and makes a show of looking you up and down.

"Well, well. She shoots to kill tonight, eh?" Frenchie says. When he leans in to kiss your cheek, he whispers, "Ah, black leather. My old favorite."

"Stop," you warn with a smile, hitting his shoulder. He's absolutely shameless. "You're too much."

"And you are just enough," Frenchie returns. He whistles playfully as he raises your hand to twirl you around, showing you off in your little black dress and red-bottom heels.

You laugh, but you bump into Ben when you twirl for the second time. Your laughter cuts off abruptly when you see the flinty look on his face, though he's clinging to stoicism.

Frenchie’s eyes widen as he seems to realize the very real danger he's put himself in. He wisely lets go of your hand, pivots on his heel and goes with Kimiko over to the dance floor.

Meanwhile, you move back to Ben's side and try to placate him by looping your arm through his. He responds by wrapping a strong arm around your waist. His eyes bore into the back of Frenchie's head so hard, you almost expect laser beams to come out of them.

"Come on, let's get a drink," you suggest, patting a hand on Ben's chest. He looks good tonight in a burgundy button-down shirt tucked into his slacks.

Ben wordlessly agrees to your suggestion, but he grabs a stool and drags it close to his own seat. He does help you by the hand onto the stool, but then his arm wraps back around your waist, pulling you in snugly, possessively to his side.

You try not to smile in amusement. It's a caveman's display, but at least you know the root cause this time.

...Okay, maybe you feel the tiniest bit complicit, but really, you think Ben's overreacting.

After he flags down the bartender and orders his bourbon and your martini, you tap against his bearded cheek, earning his green-eyed attention.

"You okay?" you ask knowingly.

"Just fine," he deadpans.

"Oh, well that's convincing," you say with a smile. "Do I need to remind you that I'm here with you?"

Ben's gaze hardens. "I don't know. You were pretty happy to let that French whore put his fucking hands all over you—"

"All right. Calm down, Rambo," you say, trying not to laugh as you rub his arm. "Sorry, baby. That's just how we've always cut up. It doesn't mean anything."

Ben scoffs in derision. "Yeah? Fuck if I care."

You frown at that, sparking with annoyance. Somehow, now you actually do feel guilty. You and Frenchie have bounced off each other like Derek and Garcia for so long, you didn't even realize how it might look...or how it might make your boyfriend feel.

Because even with all that ego and injured pride, you have a feeling there's a real sting of hurt under there.

"Hey," you say, squeezing Ben's wrist. His gaze remains stubbornly on the bartender making your drinks.

You decide to take matters more firmly into your hands.

Reaching up for his chin, you guide Ben's face toward yours and press a kiss to his lips. It's slow at first, but it soon gains in passion. His teeth graze your bottom lip, before his tongue demands entrance into your mouth with claiming purpose.

It elicits a hint of a moan from you, your fingers clenching in his hair. Your nails drag against his scalp, almost making him shudder.

Your supple lips eventually pull away from his, nice and slow.

"Your hands are the only hands I care about touching me," you say. Your expression twinkles with mischief as you toy with the zipper on the side of your dress.

"As a matter of fact, I need your help," you add. "This zipper keeps catching on something. I think it's stuck."

Quite possibly because someone got a little handsy in the cab on the way here.

Ben smirks, though he claims your lips in one more slightly rough kiss before he answers.

"Well that is a problem," he says. His eyes roam down your face, taking in your thoroughly kissed lips, and the cleavage peeking out at him from the neckline of your dress.

"Think I can give you a hand," he says, as his actual hand slips down your leg. His fingers brush along the inside of your thigh, tingling across your skin. His half-lidded gaze once again meeting yours. "Better take you out back and fix you up."

You laugh, despite the return of your blush. You cling to his shoulders, while his fingers burn a tantalizing trail upwards.

"Oh, yeah. Save me, Soldier Boy!" you tease.

He snorts in response, but he helps guide you out of your seat.

Moments later, all your friends find at the bar are two forgotten drinks and a couple of empty stools.

AN: Ah, jealous Ben. It's fun to imagine. 😂

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

SB Tag List (Part 1):

@melancholictearz @spnwoman @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions

@samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @anticxrrupt @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky

@teehxk @midnightmadwoman @iprobablyshipit91 @agalliasi @venicesem

@deans-spinster-witch @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees

@xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @mimaria420 @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley

@sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester @skyesthebomb @this-is-me19

@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007

@wincastifer @emily-winchester @tearsfortheyouth @solo-pitstop-vibes @dope-trope-105

@liuope @beautyvaliant @xxlaynaxx @chernayawidow @tmb510

@iamsapphine @roseblue373 @lacilou @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @waynes-multiverse

#Imagine: Ben getting jealous #reader request #Soldier Boy imagine #soldier boy x reader #Frenchie #soldier boy #the boys #soldier boy/ben #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x you #the boys tv #the boys amazon #soldier boy fanfiction #jensen ackles characters #jensen ackles #jealousy #hint of spice #zepskies writes

381 notes · View notes

mysaintkitten · 8 months

Text

Little Secret | Neil Lewis x fem!reader

prompt: neil is your sisters boyfriend, but that doesn’t stop you from developing a slight crush on him (this is based off a suggestion that was sent to me !! thank you to whoever sent it !!) (NSFW, NO MINORS!)

WARNINGS: veeery slight age gap (unspecified ages but reader is implied to be younger, everyones legal), cheating, loss of virginity, unprotected sex (p in v), creampie

word count: 3.8k

neil and your sister had been dating for about 4 months now, still very much in its fresh-honeymoon stage. in those 4 months, you two had been around each other a few times but hadn’t really spoken to each other directly. you’d be in the same conversations, but that’s really all that would happen.

it wasn’t until somehow, the two of you were left alone in the living room of your house a few hours before your parents were planning to hold a family gathering, neil being your sisters plus one. you’re sitting on one side of the couch and he sits on the other, you’re physically as far apart as you can within the couches armrests. your sister had temporarily left due to a minor emergency situation, she had realized that she had no solo cups or paper plates for the family gathering tonight, and your parents were at the liquor store buying alcohol for the gathering.

for a while, you just sat in silence. if you were being honest, you thought neil was pretty cute, but you felt so guilty about it. so you just tried your best to avoid him. he was just a few years older, nothing significant that would make people look twice, but the more dominating factor was that he was with your sister. whenever you felt yourself staring at him, or tweaking your appearance when he’d look away, you’d remind yourself: he’s with your sister.

as the two of you sat in silence, he eventually breaks it by blowing a weak raspberry through his lips and stirring up a conversation,

“sooo …” he starts, eyes scanning around the room before bringing them to you, “see any interesting movies lately?” he asks, you refrain from chuckling. of course he’s asking about movies. but, it’s his main interest and he’s trying to be nice, so you engage.

“uh, yeah, actually!” you respond, looking down at your hands in your lap was you fiddled with your thumbs, “watched fantastic planet, i thought it was really cool.”

“wow, really?” he responds, his words almost sound sarcastic, but when you look up at him he has a partially impressed expression on his face. you blush slightly, temporarily basking in the fact that you gave him an answer he approved of. your sister wasn’t as in to movies as either of you were, which was a bit of a tolling factor on his relationship with her.

“i like fantastic planet too, you seen any other french films? like la haine?” he questions, his body language becoming more relaxed,

you perk up slightly, “yeah! i loved la haine!” you beamed, turning your body inwards to face him better, you did really enjoy cinema but you didn’t have anyone to talk about it with.

he smiles at you warmly and then scans you up and down, before he can say anything you hear the front door unlock and your sister comes in, “oh, my god! you won’t believe what i saw!” she exclaims from the front door. his gaze stays on you for a few more moments before he breaks it to go help your sister out with the bags. you watch him as he leaves. you feel an uncontrollable smile spread across your lips and you scurrying up to your room, not wanting to face your sister and be reminded of the fact that these feelings are guaranteed to lead to nothing.

once upstairs, you start getting ready. you shower and shave, change into a nicer outfit, a cute little dress. overall modest, but showed enough to hopefully peak neil’s intrest, and do your hair and makeup.

you’re patient, making sure you look as nice as possible, nearly missing the beginning of the get together to finish getting ready.

as you’re putting your earrings in, you’re subconsciously thinking about what neil would like. does he like slutty? does he like modest? you don’t want to make it obvious, but you want him to like what he sees.

after a few drinks, it sets in that the gathering is a bit of a let down. neil didn’t look at you once. it was almost like he was avoiding you. the conversations were boring, and you were tired of asking the same dull questions about your life and your future. you decided it was best for you to just sneak back up to your room. your parents and sister were enjoying the company, you didn’t want to kill their vibe.

once in your room, you strip yourself of your dress and slip into a loose tee and some pyjama shorts, proceeding to climb back into bed and scroll on your phone.

suddenly, your bedroom door swings open, and there neil is.

you both stare at each other, “oh, sorry, i thought this was the bathroom.” he said, blatantly lying, he’s been to your house numerous times, he knew exactly where the bathroom was. but how’d he know which room was yours? had he been doing trial and error without you knowing?

you break eye contact and glance around your room trying to figure out what words to say, feeling a blush creep across your cheeks, you notice in your peripheral that he’s walking into your room now, beginning to shut the door behind him,

“uh, well ..” you start, “it isn’t, i can take you to the actual bathroom if you’d like ..” you joke lightly, attempting to calm your own nerves, he smiles at you,

“that’s alright, i don’t really have to go, anyway.” he responds, looking at all the small trinkets you have scattered throughout your room, “why’d you leave?”

oh, so he did notice you.

“i guess it just wasn’t really my vibe .. things didn’t go exactly as planned i suppose.” laughing weakly, again, just trying to break the tension. you’re not even sure if there’s actual tension or if it’s just your nerves, either way, you’re trying to calm yourself down.

“what did you have planned?” he asks, he’s standing directly beside your bed at this point, picking up and toying with little things he’s found on your nightstand.

“uhh ..” you murmur, trying to conjure up a believable lie. you can’t just say, “oh, i tried my best to look hot so you’d look at me, but you didn’t, so i went upstairs.” so you settle with, “i just wasn’t expecting every conversation to revolve around my future, you know? i mean maybe that’s excepted of older family members, they just want what’s best-“ you ramble, and you realize you’re rambling way too far into your sentence.

“sorry” you giggle, he grins at you and chuckles softly, “in summary, the conversations were tedious. i’d rather just be in my room.”

he sighs, “yeah, i get that”, he places the small objects back on your nightstand and adjusts them to how they were before he picked them up. then, to your surprise, he sits on the edge of your bed, “your sisters having a nice time talking with the other girls, i felt a bit out of place so i told them i was heading up to the bathroom, they didn’t really notice though.” he adds, his comment about your sister brought you back down to earth. oh, yeah, my sister, your girlfriend.

you shift away from him slightly, feeling yourself becoming antsy. he had never been this close to you before, he had never been in such a personal space with you before, neither of you knew each other like that, yet here you were.

“oh .. haha ..” you mutter, your eyes are actively avoiding him, you’ve convinced yourself that as long as you don’t look at him he won’t realize how nervous you are. as if he read your mind, you hear him say, “wait, look at me.”

you gulp slightly and shift your head and your gaze towards him, making direct eye contact with him. his eyes drift down to your lips and he brings his thumb forward, gently swiping it against the edge of your bottom lip.

you don’t breathe, his eyes on you and his thumb on your lip is a bit much for your psyche to handle, your eyes shift away, keeping your head in place for him.

he notices your eyes shifting and he chuckles, “what? am i that hideous?”

your eyes widen slightly while looking back at him “no, no no! it’s not that!” you explain frantically, “it’s uh … kinda ..” you start, your voice trailing off as you realize what you were just about to admit to him. he doesn’t let you stop though, he continues to pry.

“kinda … what?” he asks, raising his brows, “kinda .. the opposite.” you choke out, feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment, you definitely can’t look at him at this point.

you shift away from him more, tucking your knees up to your chest, the silence is eating away at you.

“look, i’m sorry, i think you should go, i shouldn’t have-“ you blab, desperately trying to dig yourself out of this hole you’ve created.

“(y/n), (y/n), breathe, it’s alright.” he coos, placing his hand on your shoulder in attempt to calm you down, “no shame in a little attraction, we’re only human, after all.” he adds, rubbing your arm gently.

“but you’re taken, neil ..” you whisper, “by my sister, at that!”

he doesn’t really respond to that, he returns to his original point, “we feel how we feel. you can’t control that.”, as he speaks he brings himself closer to you, his torso is mere inches away from your tucked-up legs.

“you know ..” he says, staring down at your bed while tracing small patters on your comforter with his finger, “actually i don’t think i should say ..” he laughs weakly. your curiosity peaks. “no, go on, i had to say what i was thinking, it’s your turn.” you coax, relaxing your body language a bit.

he sighs, “well .. you aren’t too bad yourself, not bad at all actually ..” he looks back up at you, shifting his gaze between your eyes and your lips. your hearts pounding, you’re worried he might be able to hear it, “oh, stop .. you’re just saying that ..” you mumble, nudging him playfully.

“i’m not!” he laughs, “really, i think you’re very attractive .. you probably get that all the time though.”

you scoff and cross your arms in front of your body, “definitely not ..”

his brows stitch together in disbelief, “what? you’re telling me you don’t have guys trailing after you constantly?”, you shake your head no. he huffs and scoots closer, directly beside you now.

you chat for a while, almost completely forgetting about the gathering and the fact that your sister, his girlfriend, is downstairs, but neither of you care at this point. you begin to discuss your shared interest, movies.

he brings up trainspotting, and you nearly lose it, unleashing all of your retained trainspotting-knowledge onto him.

he can tell how into it you are, he watches you attentively as you ramble, making sure to nod every now and then so you know he’s listening and following along.

“and you know, for the toilet scene, they actually used chocolate an-“ you’re cut of by his lips on yours, you immediately forget whatever trainspotting trivia you were about to say to him, which knowing his love for film, he probably already knew all of the facts you told him. but he sat and listened anyway.

he pulls away, and he smirks slightly at the surprised expression on your face.

“neil ..” is all you can manage to mutter out before his lips are back on yours again, kissing you a bit more deeper, testing his limits. he pulls back again for a moment, “is this alright?” he hums, his lips nearly grazing yours. “my sister ..” you whine, he just chuckles and kisses you again. at this point, you’ve fully pushed your morals aside.

his kisses start to get deeper and his tongue starts to explore your mouth, you moan at the new sensation, you hadn’t been intimate with anyone before and things were moving rather quickly.

his lips move over to your cheek, down to your jawline and then to your neck where he suckles on the skin softly while creeping his hand between your legs.

you grab his wrist and halt his actions, “neil, i’ve never done this before ..” you confess,

he groans into your neck, his hot breath sending chills throughout your body, “i’ll be gentle, sweetheart ..” he mumbles, licking a flat stripe onto your neck before continuing to place his wet kisses on the skin. he wouldn’t admit it out loud, but the thought of stripping you of your innocence made him harder.

you’re undeniably wet, your mind is racing, neil’s mouth, his hands, his cock, your sister, your family downstairs, you can’t focus on one distinct thing until you feel neil’s fingers slip into your panties.

you gasp quietly, feeling his skilled fingers toy with your pussy, “no one’s touched here before?” he asked, pulling his head out from your neck to look down at his hand in your pants, using his free hand to palm his aching bulge, “n-no .. just me ..” you whimper as he starts to rub small circles onto your clit, he smirks before whispering “ever think about me when you touch yourself?”. you nod, biting your lip, screwing your eyes shut to avoid looking at him.

he chuckles lowly, “dirty little thing .. lemme get these off”, he takes his fingers off your clit and hooks them into your waistband, you whimper in disapproval at the loss of contact. as you lift your hips to aid him in the removal, you lower them back down and spread your legs, bending them slightly.

he falls silent and your eyes open back up, you see him crawling to get between your legs, your holes are on a perfect display for him, you’ve never been so exposed in front of anyone before, but you’ve also never felt so aroused.

as his eyes scan you wet pussy, he brings his fingers back up, sliding his middle finger up and down your folds, “touch yourself for me, baby, i wanna see.” he purrs, teasing your opening with his finger. you whine, placing your hand between your legs and rubbing your clit timidly, a bit embarrassed to be doing it right in front of him. as you start to touch yourself, he begins to fuck you with his finger, watching as you clench desperately around his lone digit.

he’s absolutely infatuated with you, as you stare down at him between your legs he looks almost hypnotized.

“wish you had told me sooner .. would’ve touched you ages ago ..” he groans, adding another finger in, you whine slightly, stopping the movements on your clit.

neil shoves his fingers fully in, keeping them knuckle deep inside of you, “did i say you could stop?” he breathed, gently running the tips of his fingers along your leg.

you resume your movements, and he speeds up his while smirking “good girl.” he praises, he shifts onto his knees while keeping his fingers inside you, he brings his hand up to your face and cups your cheek.

he runs his thumb along your cheek sweetly before bringing his thumb to your lips, brushing against the skin, “open.” neil nearly whispers, you comply, sucking his thumb into your mouth.

you bat your eyelashes at him and suck his thumb in the most seductive way you can, despite having no experience, he likes what he sees. “jesus, (y/n) ..” he mutters, twisting his fingers inside you while trusting them in a bit harsher. “shit, neil!” you moan around his thumb, “you want more than my fingers, sweetheart?”, you whimper and nod, “hm? use your words, baby.” he hums.

you whine, “y-yes, i want more than your fing-ers ..”

“what do you want to fill you up instead?” he pries while taking his thumb out of your mouth and bringing that hand down to palm himself, smirking like the smug little fuck he is, you whimper louder, shifting your hips in front of him.

“neil ..” you huff, he just chuckles “come on, tell me what you want in that little pussy.”

you can barely manage to get the words out, embarrassment and arousal battling within your brain, but thanks to neil’s sweet little touches and words- arousal wins.

“y-our cock ..” you whisper, turning your head to the side. he groans quietly, “my, what, sweetheart? speak up.”

“your cock, neil!” you mewl, your desperation flooding all your other senses. he chuckles, “good girl, was that so bad?” he jokes before taking his fingers out of you, leaving you feeling empty, as he undoes his pants and hastily tugs them down. his hard cock springs out, you’re a bit intimidated by his size. he’s not huge, but he’s definitely big, and you’ve never had sex before, so your nerves were definitely starting to act up.

he scoots himself forward and lines himself up between your legs, rubbing your slick up and down with the head of his dick.

“aw, you nervous?” he teases, you don’t respond, you just whine, “you’ll take it all, like a good girl, huh?” he coos, sliding himself inside you slowly. “what about protection, neil?” you mewl, he laughs, “what, you think your sisters dirty, or something? i’m clean, darling.”

god, he’s disgusting. before you can respond, you gasp loudly at the stretch and slight burning sensation, “oh my ..” you huff, forgetting about whatever you were just bickering about. he hasn’t even bottomed out yet. he pauses for a moment, still only halfway inside you, to lean his body forward and place his hand beside your head, placing small kisses on your lips and cheek.

“doing so good, just a little more ..” he moans, using his free hand to rub your thigh soothingly.

finally, he bottoms out, you look down between your legs and then back up at him. he’s blushing himself, and he has a stupid little grin on his face. “feels nice ..” he groans before sliding himself out a bit, quickly thrusting back in. you moan at the mixture of pleasure and pain, feeling so incredibly full by neil’s cock. he speeds up more, making your moans louder and your body twitch beneath him. “god fu-ck, neil!” you nearly shout, he brings his hand up from beside your head and covers your mouth, “i know it feels good, sweetheart, but you gotta be quiet, okay? can’t let everyone downstairs know you’re getting pounded up here.” he taunts, knowing exactly how his thrusts are effecting you.

“mhmm!” you whine from underneath his hand, he moans and his shoulders go slack, “so fucking tight ..”

you grip the wrist of the hand that’s over your mouth, grunting and whining into his palm, while exhaling harshly through your nose.

he takes his hand off your mouth and moves it to your neck, gripping the sides gently. you stitch your brows together and watch him fuck into you through half-lidded eyes. “how does this feel, baby?” he purrs, dragging his nails along your thigh with his free hand.

you moan, not loudly, but loud enough for him to hear.

“good .. ‘s so good ..” you whimper, finding it hard to speak due to the circumstances.

“think you can come on my cock for me, hm?” he grunts, bringing his lips to yours before kissing you sloppily. you not as best you can and moan against his lips, neil takes his hand off your neck and brings it between your legs and promptly rubbing your clit, making you moan even louder again this lips.

“neil! shit!” you whine, clenching around him involuntarily. he moans weakly, placing his forehead against yours.

“‘m gonna come .. god, fuck!” he groans, pumping into you harder while continuing to rub your clit, you’re close too- but so close that you really can’t verbalized it. you just hope he knows, and he does. with a few breathy moans, he’s coming inside you. he pauses for a few moments to pull his body back up, but his thrusts don’t slow down, he’s maintaining his rough pace while rubbing on your clit, eager to get you to come for him.

“drench my cock, sweetheart, show me how good it feels.” he praises, looking down at himself fucking you.

you don’t need much more than that, you’re coming around his cock and you’re coming hard. harder than you ever have. maybe because prior all your orgasms had been from your own hands, but neil’s hands and words and cock gave you an orgasm that was unlike anything you had felt before. your mind goes blank and your body tenses up, small huffs and ‘fuck’s falling from your mouth as your orgasm crashes through you.

“there you go .. that’s it .. all over me baby ..” he coos, watching in fascination as you come undone on his cock.

once you’ve ridden your orgasm out, he pulls his softening cock out, making you wince, “sorry, i’m sorry ..” he mumbles, running his fingers along your thigh calmingly. “god, look at that ..” he groans, mostly to himself, as he spreads your lips apart and watches as the come behind to spill out of you. he gets up off the bed and begins to button up his pants, adjusting his appearance in the mirror before heading to the door.

“i’ll get you a wet rag and get you cleaned up, after that i’ve gotta go back downstairs.” he says, his hand already on the doorknob, “wait!” you respond, he turns his body to face you fully.

“what was that? what’s this?” you ask, leaving the question rather vague for a reason, “i mean .. i would like to keep this going .. i won’t tell if you won’t ..” he whispers slightly, as if nows the time he needed to be quiet. you would like to see him more often, you wanna feel how you felt more often. so you nod, “okay, i won’t either.” you whisper back.

he smiles, “sounds good. can you swing by my video store sometime this week? we could chat, watch a few films ..” he bubbled, seemingly giddy at the idea of spending time with you. “yeah, definitely!” you grin back as he heads out the door to grab the wet rag.

the post-nut clarity begins to sink in. you just slept with your sisters boyfriend. how are you ever going to face her again? how awful of a person can you be to do something like this? what’s done is done, you tell yourself, you’ve already been an awful sister. so fuck it. let’s keep this going.

——

it’s 3 am heeeeyyyy

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x fem!reader #neil lewis #neil lewis x reader #watching the detectives #hope y’all like this #thank you to whoever sent this !!#:)

559 notes · View notes

morallyinept · 11 days

Text

Adrift With You - A Frankie Morales Series - Chapter 17

Summary: Heading away on a work re-location, Frankie embarks on a flight, but unbeknownst to him, his life is about to change forever. For starters, he will need to fight for it; harder than he's ever fought for anything else before.

Marooned on an isolated island in the middle of the ocean, still recovering from an addiction, his chances of survival are bleak; but he’s not alone on the island, and soon he’s running towards a different kind of life - a life with fellow survivor, Jude, fighting right beside him every step of the way.

And if they can both survive the island together, they can survive anything, right?

Pairing: Frankie Morales x OFC Jude

Chapter word count: 6.5k

SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

☝🏻See Series Masterlist for full smut warnings & triggers in this story. Chapters that contain smut or triggers will be highlighted in the chapter notes below. 👇🏻

Chapter notes: Frankie and Jude arrive home to their respective families, and begin to face the realities of their separation.

Enjoy! 🖤

Chapter 16

You’ll be surprised to know that the odds of surviving a plane crash are pretty much in your favour; despite the fact I killed everyone off in this story except for our Delta hero and his heroine.

Around ninety-five point seven per cent in your favour to be precise. However, the doomed flight eight-sixteen defied those perky odds when the engine caught fire and the plane plummeted out of the sky and crash landed into the ocean, nose first.

The survival rate was hampered by several factors: the storm, the pilots being unable to regain control of the aircraft, and the fact that the plane hit the water at such a speed that it broke apart upon impact.

There were no other survivors; the plane’s black box was never found. A search party ensued of course as soon as the plane didn’t arrive at its intended destination, but the searches were only conducted in and around the immediate area where the plane was last spotted on radar. The point of its disappearance was just past the tip of South Africa, having been tumbling off course as it was crash landing, towards the Kerguelen Islands; a group of islands in French Southern and Antarctic lands.

The original destination for flight eight-sixteen was Madagascar - Jude’s choice for a sunny getaway and Frankie’s work taking him there for a fresh start. To relax and unwind and do some lemur spotting whilst getting over their respective break-ups and life kicking them in the mutual grits.

A distance of two thousand, four hundred and forty-eight miles separates Madagascar and the Kerguelen Islands. And a distance of one thousand, three hundred and thirty-four miles from Cape Town on the tip of South Africa to the Prince Edward Islands.

The islands are for the most part uninhabited, except for a native colony of penguins. However to the north east of the islands, there are further tinier islands that are also uninhabited and isolated, and this is where our two survivors ultimately washed up.

The climate around the islands is predominantly warm with generous helpings of rain and it’s for this reason that Frankie and Jude were able to survive and collect water on a regular basis, although sometimes dangerously sparing. Sheer dumb luck in brute honesty, I mean, they could have crash landed anywhere, right?

Of course this knowledge now seems useless and pointless to them because every day on that island was a constant battle for survival and no amount of facts or ‘you were lucky you landed where you did’ spiel is going to change that harrowing thought.

The flight back home to The States was as anxious as they come. Stepping foot onto that plane was one of the bravest things they both had encountered and achieved. And the pair didn’t let go of each other’s hands at all, occasionally squeezing tight when the plane would dip or jolt from turbulence; their hearts trying to make a dash for it and their bowels equally bracing for carnage in their seats.

The flight from Cape Town to New York’s JFK was approximately twenty-one hours with a stop-over in Amsterdam for a re-fuel. They sat in business class, with that extra leg room for Frankie of course, and Jude marvelled at the space, courtesy of the US Embassy.

The luxury and the service came with a bright bleached smile, whilst Frankie admired and watched Jude as though she were a caged animal being let loose for the first time.

They had no physical luggage aside from a tiny carry-on with a spare pair of clothes each, their phone chargers and a small amount of cash that Benny had wired Frankie through the help of a local bank; other than that, they just had their new passports, out of date iPhones and each other.

Jake had arranged for a security escort to meet them at the airport and to drive them to their Air Bn’b in the city, close enough to Jude’s parent’s house.

They eventually dozed off together, Jude’s head resting on Frankie’s bony shoulder and his head on top of hers, clutching tightly onto one another’s hand still, even in their drowsy state.

The plane touched down at JFK and it was raining out; a grey sky greeted them, seemingly following them home from the island, and despite it, it was good to be finally on firm ground that wasn’t sand.

They waited to exit the plane under instruction from their escort, after the flurry of the other passengers who paid no mind to them at all, and in no real rush to face the inevitable - Jude’s stomach was already in knots.

They went through border control, handing over their passports for inspection and scrutiny with Frankie taking his cap off to reveal his long, overgrown locks to the officer.

They both were in dire need of a haircut amongst other things, but Frankie was kinda rocking this shaggy grown out look and even attempted a man bun.

“You look like a pretentious dick, take it out,” Jude had said to him, laughing, when he modelled it for her back in the hotel room in Cape Town.

“It was the look I was going for.” He’d mused to her.

Just outside the arrivals hall on the other side of passport control, an officer is holding up a plaque with Frankie’s last name printed over it, and they both approach them cautiously.

“Captain Morales, I presume?” The officer enquires. He’s flanked by several other border patrol and burly military officers, and their escort from the consulate in Cape Town hands over their documents.

“Just Frankie,” Frankie greets as the man offers his hand to shake it.

“We’re here to escort you both through arrivals and get you home. It’s a little crazy out there. Everyone is glad you’re both home safely.”

Jude can hear the ruckus already - an animated fracas of chatter and excitement. The sounds of camera shutters are already going off and flashes of lights pulse down the entrance hall.

“You ready?” Frankie asks her, tightening his grip on her hand.

She smiles. “No.”

Frankie takes his cap off and places it on her head, pulling the visor down over her face.

The officers flank them in an arrowhead formation, closing the gaps on the sides whilst two officers head up the front.

“Just keep your head down, hermosa,” Frankie says, and squeezes her hand. “It’ll soon be over.”

They begin to walk in unison and it’s like they’re walking in beat to the rhythm of her heart, slowly getting faster and faster as they break through the automatic doors into arrivals and into a deluge of carnage.

The crowds start clapping and cheering. The terminal is a whirlwind of noise and motion, a stark contrast to the quiet isolation of the island.

“FRANCISCO! JUDE! OVER HERE! FRANCISCO!”

The crowds are cordoned off with barriers and police officers lining the route. A plethora of journalists and paparazzi flank them, following through the crowds, and a glitter of flashing lights blind them both as they push on forward with the military officers surrounding them.

“Francisco, how do you feel about being rescued?”

“What's the first thing you’re going to do now you’re back?”

The questions come rapid fire and are yelled through the gaps of the officers, each one more intrusive than the last.

“How did you become a couple?”

“Do you have anything to say about the Airline? Are you going to sue?”

Frankie tightens his grip on Jude’s hand, drawing strength from their connection. He can feel her trembling, and he knows she’s just as overwhelmed as he is.

The cacophony is deafening and Jude feels Frankie squeeze back onto her hand tightly before he pulls her inwards, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and she buries her face into his armpit and squeezes her eyes closed, wishing it was over.

“Keep moving,” one of the soldiers instructs, his voice firm but reassuring. “We’ve got you covered.”

They push through the throng, the military personnel forming a protective barrier around them. The crowd is relentless, cameras flashing in their faces, microphones thrust forward in the hope of catching a soundbite.

Frankie tries to keep his focus ahead, his hand pressed up against the shoulder of one of the army guys so as not to get separated, but the sheer volume of attention is staggering.

“How does it feel to be back on American soil?”

“What was the hardest part of your ordeal?”

“Can you tell us what you remember about the crash?”

The noise seems to die out a little as they exit the terminal and are practically manhandled into a large car with tinted windows, which speeds off as soon as the doors are slammed shut. Jude clocks a few wayward journalists taking photos of the car and running after it.

The car heads out of the airport, picking up speed as it hits the freeway and she finally breathes.

“You guys okay back there?” The soldier who greeted them turns in the front passenger seat to face them.

They both nod with eyes wide and frightened.

“You okay?” Frankie asks her, still moulded tightly under his arm.

“Yeah. Just a little overwhelmed. That was insane!” Jude whispers back to him.

“Yeah, fuckin’ crazy…” Frankie murmurs.

They’re dropped off with their documents and the soldier informs them he’ll be back tomorrow to escort Frankie to the airport and drop Jude at her parents.

Once inside the safe confines of the Air Bn’b, which is a little apartment, with a double bed and bath tub big enough for them both, they both sit back in the hot bubbly water as Frankie cradles Jude against his chest after washing her hair and listening to her humming and singing her favourite songs. He automatically braids it and she smiles at him over her shoulder.

“Habit,” he replies as she runs her hand down the tight weaves of the braid. He leans forward and kisses her shoulder.

After making a small meal, which they barely manage to eat, they lay in bed together, their limbs knotted and entwined as they kiss and touch and stain their skin with one another.

“I’m going to miss you so much,” Jude says to him as the room darkens around them.

“I won’t stay away long.” Frankie confirms.

“Take as much time as you need. Your family will want to spend time with you.”

“It’s gonna be weird not waking up with you in my arms.” Frankie admits after a while of lying there with her and feeling her warm body against his. He takes a deep breath, forcing himself to remain calm.

“I know. We’ve not spent a day apart for over a whole year.”

He nods against her head, his chin butting it slightly. “Mm,” he agrees.

“Will you call me when you land?”

“Of course. I’ll call you every day, at least five hundred times.” He smirks into her hair.

“Maybe not five hundred… four hundred and ninety-nine will do just fine.” Jude giggles.

They both laugh and he pulls her closer, breathing out through a stretch and a yawn.

“Are you sleepy?” She asks him.

“A little.” He replies through a small sigh. “Been a long day.”

She kisses his forehead delicately, resting against his head as he shuts his eyes.

Frankie opens them momentarily and strokes her face. “Do you have bad dreams?”

“About the island?” Jude asks him.

“Yeah.” He admits timidly.

She nods. “I used to have this nightmare while we were there, that a helicopter came and rescued you, but it left me behind. I could see you flying off in the distance and waving at me. I was running so fast but then you disappeared.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Frankie reaffirms to her.

“I know. It was just a bad dream, right?”

“Right.” He says. His breath smells sweet in her face, scented from the mint of his toothpaste. “I’m coming right back to you, okay?” He promises.

“I know.” Jude says. “Get some sleep, you’ve got another flight again tomorrow.”

He kisses her gently. “Duerme bien, sin pesadillas, hermosa.” (Sleep well, no nightmares, beautiful)

His fingers dance upon her bare skin in the early morning fuzz of the light, and every single touch, even the lightest of touches, makes Jude’s body convulse and react in a way that she never thought possible.

Her body is communicating with him, becoming fluent in his language whilst receiving every part of Frankie that he offers so freely.

His big hands engulf her body, sweeping across the surface of her warm skin and soothing her. Frankie kisses her lips and down her chin, sucking on it before he sweeps under her jaw towards her collarbone.

Licking her nipple and awakening it from a swollen, puffy areola in the warmth of a new day being born across the Big Apple, that flows in from the open window, she hums out deliciously as she stretches around him. He pulls it further into his mouth as her back arches, enjoying the feel of his wet tongue running over it and leaving cool, wet tracks.

“Mmm...” She whines softly into the air with her eyes closed.

Frankie nips it gently making her squeal. He smiles around the hardening bud as he smooches on it gently, carrying on his journey down her body.

His unruly curls tickle against her skin, long and feeling coarse and wiry from being dried out by saltwater and constant sun exposure. Jude runs her hand through it, sweeping it out of the way so she can see those lips and the disruption they cause.

He kisses down her stomach, hooking his fingers into the elastic of her panties and pulls them down over her hips. Frankie has her spread with his whopping hands separating her thighs and pushing them up as makes out with her pussy. Kissing and dipping his adept tongue into her wet folds to taste her as he goes. The clicks of his kisses sounding out are all around her as the flicks and darts of his tongue delve deeper each time he licks her out.

Jude reaches down, raking her fingers through his locks as he looks up at her - those piercing, dark eyes swirling with infecting poison; his lips mashing against her cunt and his tongue flicking over her clit as he sucks around it.

His fingers massage the inner meat of her thighs, gripping and rubbing as he feasts on her, making her body squirm as the tingly pressure on her clit mounts.

“Frankie...” She gasps out as his delicious gnawing begins to intensify and make her toes curl.

She scratches harder at the back of his skull, him grunting into her at the feel of it - those fingers twisting around his hair and tugging as they become knotted in his scalp, sending prickles flooding down his back.

His cock is rock hard, being crushed between his body and the mattress as Jude writhes against his face. He sucks her fleshy lips, popping and squelching out of his greedy mouth before he’ll lick them up again and suckle some more, unable to get enough of her.

“Oh fuck!” She sighs out, her eyes closed and tumbling.

She gyrates her hips around, rocking against his tongue to get the best of him, feeling that pulsing and glitter begin to blind her vision.

“Mmm, don’t stop.” She writhes more intensely now, hearing his gasps around her folds as her legs twitch and her thighs shake uncontrollably. Tasting those wet, fleshy ribbons as he licks up and down, up and down on a repeating cycle that makes her soar.

Her gasps are getting louder, her back arching higher in a dangerous contorted curve as she pants and groans, fisting inside of his hair ferociously that she could almost tear it out.

Her body shakes, rippling as she cries out, reaching down with scrambled, frantic hands and gripping onto his arms as the veins in her neck strain, her eyes roll into the back of her head and her pussy contracts and explodes all over his mouth.

“FRANKIE!”

Frankie sucks harder on her clit, pinching it between his teeth deliberately as she bucks and pulses; her head thrown back into the pillows, the room feeling like it’s spinning faster around her.

She’s out of breath as he licks up and down, planting kisses and his lips knock against her clit, buzzing and making her thighs jolt from the shock of the sensitivity that now crowns it.

He smooches against it delicately, looking up at her and holding her eyes. He kisses the inside of her thigh, nuzzling into it.

Jude beckons him to her and like a slave to his heart and cock alike, he willingly follows. He slowly begins to crawl up her body towards her face. His cock sweeps against the inside of her apex and he’s solid and heavy against it. Precum smears across her skin and feels cooling in the morning breeze.

He leans over her on his arms as he pushes his hips into hers, slipping comfortably inside of her wet, slick hole again as she gasps out for him, her head lifting off the pillow to meet his plush inviting lips.

The island has stripped everything superficial, leaving only raw unfiltered connection, this bond that can’t be broken. Every glance, every touch speaks volumes of shared pain, survival and resilience. It isn't just about love, it's about understanding. They had seen each other at their lowest, held each other through heart-wrenching despair and found strength in their unity.

Words are often unnecessary now; a simple look can convey the deepest of emotions. Her hand slips into his, fingers interlacing with a familiarity that feels ancient, as if they've known each other for lifetimes.

His hand swoops around the back of her head and holds her, keeping her close to him as Frankie slides in and out of her, working up a tantalising rhythm that makes his lips part, his breath coating her face. Deep, indomitable strokes make Jude feel every inch of him - make her remember him.

Frankie curls his fingers around her throat gently, stroking the skin there with his thumb and feeling her groans vibrate against his palm as he kisses down the side of her face, a slew of kisses planted under her jawline.

He flashes back to the countless nights when the fear and hope had danced on the edge of their consciousness, where dreams of rescue seemed distant and elusive. It was during those moments their connection had solidified, becoming an unbreakable anchor in a sea of uncertainty. She was always there, holding him up; her eyes reflecting the hues of the setting sun and sparkling off the ocean waves at him.

He feels it, feels the emotion surge over him and he buries his face into her neck, squeezing away the tears as he scrunches his eyes shut. Frankie can feel her legs tightening around his waist, hanging onto him and taking him so deep into her.

“We made it, I love you. We made it… I love you.” She chants through her gasps and cries.

His head lolls a little, like he can’t handle it any more. His body feeling weak and out of breath and losing his stamina fast. Gasping so hard his throat runs dry and no noise will flow out of it anymore; just those inhaled croaked whispers of oxygen steaming past his teeth.

Jude whimpers as he presses his forehead against hers, his hips still bucking into her deeply; the slick feel of his cock sliding in and out of her with ease, her walls contracting and tightening around him. Gasping out loudly in unified melodies as they swallow each kiss, panting as their bodies slide across one another’s.

“Come for me,” she hears him grunt through his gasps as the slapping of his cock inside her soaked pussy relentlessly hammers.

Squeezing into his skin with her fingers as her body trembles and shakes, she releases, feeling wondrously dizzy.

Frankie slows, winding his hips into her so she can feel him deeply. They stare into one another’s eyes, holding that gaze as they pant and soar together. He cradles her closer to him as he kisses her, feeling how good she feels around him. She squeezes and her body aches, aches for him to never stop.

Her hands are in his hair again, scratching around his scalp and making his head tingle and pulse.

“I love you,” Jude whispers to him and he groans out in response, his body starts to fly.

“I love you, hermosa,” Frankie replies as he mashes his lips to hers and grunts out in a deep, husked whine as he comes deeply inside her, his cock twitching and seeing stars behind his eyelids as she cradles him in her arms.

“We made it.” He pants.

“We made it.” She sighs.

As soon as she knocks on the door, Jude’s engulfed by her parents who won’t let her go out of their strangling grip.

Her mother clutches hold of her as if she might disappear again and her father’s tears betray his own usually composed exterior. The three of them cry all over each other, for what seems like hours on the porch, as Frankie hovers awkwardly until he’s dragged into the throes of it.

He’s plied with copious amounts of coffee, feeling sick to his stomach, whilst they listen horrified and aghast at their tales of sheer grit on the island.

They don’t divulge too much, but it’s enough to render her mother to tears again and her father to shake Frankie’s hand for saving his daughter.

“Actually, she saved me. She’s got bigger balls than I do.” Frankie chuckles, and her father pats him on the back approvingly.

“I like him,” her father says to Jude approvingly.

But hovering over the reunion is the agonising moment when Frankie and Jude will have to part and it's in the looks they give one another as her parents talk and engage with them. It’s in the sinking feeling in Frankie’s gut and the acrid taste at the back of Jude’s throat.

Watching him pull away in the car, waving to her through the window with that giant palm, is like her heart has been ripped out of her chest.

His departure, even if only temporary, leaves a hollow ache. An unsettling thought creeping in about how she can navigate being here without him. She knows she can't.

They had been inseparable for so long, facing every challenge together and now they had to do this one alone. She tries to offer him a smile with her wave, but it doesn't reach her eyes, and she can barely hold on. She wraps her arms around herself trying to stave off the chill despite it being a warm day. Without him, the world is bleak and cold and scary.

Her mother comforts her as best as she can when Jude bursts into tears as the car disappears around the bend in the road at the bottom of the street, but all she does is retreat to her old room that has been left untouched and climbs into bed, crying until she falls into a stunted sleep.

The thought of him being mere inches away from her, let alone nearly a seventeen hour drive away in Florida, is shattering. The absence of Frankie is already felt the moment he’d let go of her hand and she would have given anything at that point to be back with him and in his arms.

Frankie’s flight back to Florida was delayed by a few hours, in a typical prolonged agony. You’d think as the writer of this tale I’d give the poor guy a break, right?

When it touches down eventually at Pensacola International Airport, there is no wild fracas to greet him like at JFK. It’s hauntingly quiet, no journalists, and leaves Frankie on edge a little as he stalks through arrivals on alert. Benny meets him in the terminal.

The sight of his old friend and comrade brings a flood of emotions. Benny’s face breaks into a wide, stupid grin, his arms opening out.

“I can’t fuckin’ believe it, you son of a bitch!” Benny hollers, his voice choked with happiness and relief, as he hugs the fuck out of Frankie, and for a while doesn’t let go.

Frankie smiles ghostly back at him with pink, chapped lips and tired, droopy eyes.

“C’mon, let’s get you home, Fish.”

On the ride back to Benny's place, Frankie’s quiet, contemplative and staring out the window at the familiar surroundings of Pensacola. The late afternoon sun casts a warm glow over the city, highlighting the palms swaying gently in the breeze.

They pass by the old coffee shop where he and Eddie used to go after the NA meetings and talk about his feelings and cravings. It still has the same faded awning and the neon “open” sign flickering in the window. Frankie can almost taste the bitter, cheap coffee and hear Eddie’s encouraging words again, but the memories feel like they belong to someone else.

“You okay, man?” Benny asks him as he winds his hand round the steering wheel, eyeing Frankie carefully. The car turns into a familiar residential street and he realises Benny still has the same apartment.

“Just weird, you know?” Frankie says, squinting in the sunlight through the window.

“Yeah. You came back from the fuckin’ dead. If that isn’t weird I don’t know what the fuck is, right?” Benny says with a smile draped in disbelief.

In some ways it’s like he had died on that island. Frankie knows a piece of him is still there, still trapped and unable to escape; his feet lodged in the sand that refuses to let go, and without Jude here beside him, he’s daunted at the prospect of truly living again.

A weird feeling considering, before the island, he'd felt dead in some ways too.

Benny explained that he had immediately called all Frankie’s family to inform them all that Frankie was very much alive and well, and was coming home. They had all cried, celebrated and struggled to wrap their heads around it of course, with so many unanswered questions at how he managed to defy all the odds.

“What happened to my apartment in the end?” Frankie queries.

They pull up at a stoplight, and Frankie’s gaze settles on a group of teenagers hanging out in front of the convenience store. They look so young and full of life and potential, even if they aren’t doing anything with it. He remembers being that age, full of dreams and plans to join the military and make something of himself. Now, after everything, those dreams feel so naive and distant.

Benny scratches over his head. “It was sold. We thought you... Well, you know.”

Frankie nods and bites down on his lip.

“You can stay here with me until you find somewhere else. I got you a pull out cot.”

“What about my stuff?”

“Maybe your parents kept some of it, I dunno. The rest is gone, man. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Frankie replies. “It makes sense.”

“You thought about what you’ll need to do, call the bank, shit like that?” Benny asks him. They drive down a quieter neighbourhood, the sidewalk packed full of parked cars.

“Yeah. I’ll do it this week, maybe tomorrow.” Frankie shrugs.

Benny nods, turning the car onto the driveway and he kills the engine. “I got you, Fish. Anything you need.”

“Thanks, man. I appreciate it.” Frankie smiles.

As Benny leads Frankie up to the door, he feels a weariness settle over him. All he wants to do is find a quiet corner and sleep, to escape the overwhelming swirl of emotions and noise. The journey home, the media attention, the fact that he's left Jude in New York without him, is all too much.

But as they step inside, all those thoughts of sleep are immediately squashed as a cacophony of voices yell out in surprise and greet him.

Faces from his family and friends all blur as they mingle and crowd him, the sound echoing off the walls of sobs and sighs of relief. Pats on the back, hugs into full bosoms. Benny looks a little sheepishly at Frankie and shrugs.

“They all wanted to be here,” he simply says, and Frankie can’t summon the strength to be mad at him for it, he’s just too exhausted.

So he allows himself to be passed around, gripping everyone tight in his arms. Banners and balloons are floating around and the apartment, cramped and small as it is, is filled to the brim with cheers, laughter and the smell of freshly baked food.

He spots Will and freezes. The two men stand facing one another for a moment, the weight of everything they’ve been through during the worst of Frankie’s addiction hanging between them. Then Will steps forward, pulling Frankie into a tight hug and he sags against his friend.

“It’s good to see you, Fish.” Will says into his shoulder. “You look like shit, but it’s damn good to see you.”

He stands there stunned. Frankie hadn’t expected this and although he’s pleased and relieved to see everyone too, he’s not sure if he can handle it all right now.

He looks around the room and at what feels like millions of pairs of enquiring eyes swarming him, lips moving with questions that are repeated and he doesn't hear them all, not fully. It goes on like this for what feels like hours; a tidal wave of gushed hugs, strong drinks being passed around the room in celebration of Frankie’s arrival home and tears from almost everyone.

Phones are ringing off the hook with relatives, friends and well-wishers all keen to speak to him that can't be there, and pass on their love and support. Being pulled this way and that into their arms and shoulders.

He feels like a bumper car, wandering aimlessly around the apartment, bashing into everyone who he comes across, and being pulled into conversations that are on a continual loop about how he managed to survive on the island and come home to them all.

The repetitiveness is exhausting him and overwhelming him in equal measure; it’s akin to being thrust into a plethora of screams and screeches, a black hole of braying deafening pitches, each desperate to reach out and touch him. To tug him here, there and everywhere and to get a piece of him, no matter how small or miniscule.

Around nine PM, Benny clocks the anxious look blooming on Frankie’s face crammed into the furthest end of the couch and seeming incredibly small inside it.

“You alright?” Benny asks him as he spots Frankie leaning on the sink in the kitchen with his eyes closed a few minutes later.

“Just tired,” Frankie replies. "It's a lot."

“Yeah. I get it. Everyone’s amped. Maybe it was a bit much having everyone here at once.” He admits.

“No, it’s cool. I wanted to see ’em. I’ve fuckin’ missed ‘em all.” Although it may have been better in small, contained doses - his head is hammering. “Thanks, man.” Frankie replies, stifling a yawn from escaping with the back of his hand.

“You going to call her?” Benny asks, as he notices Frankie checking his phone again.

Frankie nods and clears his throat, blushing.

“What’s she like?” Benny asks.

“Fuckin’ amazing,” Frankie replies looking at him with sincere, watery eyes. “If she hadn't been there, I’d be dead for real.”

“What are you fuckin’ talking to me for then, call her.” Benny says and claps Frankie so hard on the back it winds him a little with the force. “I’ll get everyone going. You look like you might crash.”

He smiles as Benny heads off into the lounge and Frankie lets himself out of the back door into the small, overgrown garden. He dials Jude’s number and it rings a few times before she answers.

“Hey you,” comes her voice down the phone. It sounds relieved and he feels like he finally breathes for the first time since he left her.

“Hi, how are you?” Frankie asks, smiling as he speaks. “I’m sorry. I’m not interrupting you, am I?”

“Don’t ever say sorry for calling me,” Jude says, and he can hear her smiling. “You okay, you sound tired?”

“Yeah, I arrived to a surprise party. Wasn't expecting that. Everyone’s here.”

“I bet that’s nice.”

“Yeah… yeah.” He scratches at the back of his head.

“Or not?” Jude queries and he smiles at how well she can read him, even without seeing him.

“Just a bit much to take in. Tiring, but great.” He says.

They’re quiet on the phone and both laugh at the same time.

“I fuckin’ miss you,” Frankie says to her, the ache in his voice palpable.

“I wish you were here right now, I can’t sleep without you.”

“Yeah, I’m not gonna sleep much either.”

“What are you doing tomorrow?” She enquires.

“I gotta go see my lawyer, talk to the bank, convince them I’m not dead so they give me my money back,” he chuckles.

“Yeah, me too. Fucking sucks dying, right?”

“I need a haircut.” Frankie chirps, running his hand through his long tresses that are down to his shoulders.

“Oh, me too. But, I’m going to miss your mop head.” She muses.

“I’m going to miss braiding your hair.”

“I won’t get it cut too short then.”

“Good,” he replies smiling as he wanders around the garden. He slings his free hand into his pocket.

There’s another silence between them.

“I want you here with me,” Frankie admits to her.

“I wish I was so badly right now.”

“I’m tempted to fly back to you.” Frankie admits, already trying to work it out in his head.

“I know, but your family needs you. And so does mine for a little bit.” She explains. “My mom is a mess.”

“Yeah,” Frankie replies, his back sagging a little.

“Have you watched the news yet?”

“No.”

“We’re on it. They got us at the airport.” Jude explains. “The news just keeps showing it over and over… feels really surreal.”

“Figures. They’ll wanna talk to us at some point.” Frankie explains, sniffing in deep.

“I know.” The tone in her voice is flat.

“We can wait, okay? Do it when we’re ready.”

“I just wanna kiss you right now.” Jude whines.

“Fuck, Jude. Stop it, or I will get on that fuckin’ plane.” Frankie warns, feeling the ache inside his gut and loins alike.

“I need you, Frankie. I’ll always need you. You know that right?”

Frankie smiles as he stops walking around the garden. “I love you,” he says to her down the phone.

“I love you, more.” She says to him and he chuckles.

“Don’t fight me on this.” He smirks.

His name is called from somewhere in the house.

“I gotta go.”

“Go back to your family.”

“Call you tomorrow?”

“Can’t wait.” Jude smiles down the phone.

“Fish!” his voice is called again, and after hanging up and taking a calming deep breath, Frankie wanders back inside. He searches for the voice calling him and is met with a concerned look on Benny’s face.

“I didn’t know she was coming, man.”

Frankie spots Will, nursing a beer and laughing at something a woman who stands beside him says. She drops her wrist from his shoulder and the whole room goes silent except for the familiar tinny jangle of bracelets that have always adorned her wrist.

He watches in slow motion as Carla’s eyes land on him, widening a little and a small smile turns her lips upwards at him. A wave of her palm and then she’s walking over to him, and Frankie’s rooted to the spot. Unable to move or hear anything except the clattering beats of his blood pulsing in his ears.

“Frankie,” she murmurs softly.

He simply nods at her and tries to force a smile he knows he should give her. There was a time he smiled for her a lot. He remembers the early days, the memories stuffing themselves in between his ears, even if he doesn't want them to right now. The laughter they shared, the plans they made. They had fallen in love so quickly, so frivolously.

There were memories of lazy Sunday mornings in bed, spontaneous road trips and the way she used to look at him like he was her whole world. But then there were lies, secrets and shame. Frankie tries to forget them and bury them deep because that was a different Frankie, it had to be.

He remembers the lies he told her about his addiction, the late nights when he promised he was working, but was actually out scoring coke. He remembers her worried eyes, her pleas for him to get help, her face coming into a fuzzy view at the hospital when he woke up after the overdose.

He remembers his stubborn denial and digging his heels in. The fights, the arguments and the day he finally caved and told her he was done. And then he’d gotten on that damned plane. Leaving her and their history and pain behind and thrown up in the air, and it’s all here now, confronting him like a tidal wave, and he’s drowning right in front of her.

“When I heard the news, I-” She trails off unsure of what to say, and again, he just simply nods. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Thanks, it's uh… it's good to see you.” Frankie says.

And it is, in some bittersweet way; she looks good, healthy. A sheen in her eyes and a tan on her skin. They stand there for a moment, the silence stretching out between them.

“Listen, I… it’s not the right time, but we need to talk.” Carla says, offering a weak smile to him.

“Talk about what?” Frankie asks.

He feels the weight of their shared past hanging around them, thick in the cool conditioned air in Benny’s apartment. She looks at him, a mixture of sadness and relief in her eyes. And something else he can’t quite put his finger on, guilt perhaps?

“I’m sorry,” Frankie says, his own guilt pressing hard on the back of his tongue.

She baulks clearly not expecting it.

“For everything… For lying to you. For hurting you.” He says. And he is, part of him will always be sorry for it.

She reaches out, touching his arm gently, and he flinches.

“I know, Frankie. I just… I wish things had been different.”

His legs feel weak as he stands there before her, offering her an apology that’s long overdue, and yet hearing the words flow out of his mouth doesn't do it justice somehow.

“There’s something I need to tell you.” Carla says, her voice trembling. “After we broke up… I didn't know how to tell you, and then you were gone, and it got so messy and I didn’t know what to do-”

“Carla-”

She takes a deep breath, meeting his concerned gaze. “Frankie, you’re…”

“What? What is it?” His mind races with a thousand thoughts and scenarios, but the one he doesn’t expect is the one she ultimately breaks him with.

She speaks again, the wobble in her voice sounding the words out clear and unmistakeable. “Frankie, you’re a father.”

To be continued...

SERIES MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

Thank you for taking the time to read my story; it really means so much to me. I'd love to know your thoughts, and I'd really appreciate a re-blog so others can enjoy this story too. Thank you so much 🖤

MAIN MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: I'm no longer adding tags due to some of them not working correctly. Please ensure you're following me and turn on notifications so you don't miss a chapter instead. If you'd like to be removed from the tag list, please let me know.

Tagging everyone who asked to be tagged/commented on/re-blogged my initial teaser & prologue:

@suzdin @missladym1981 @millennial-teenybopper @legendary-pink-dot @msjarvis

@tightjeansjavi @burntheedges @inept-the-magnificent @casa-boiardi @sin-djarin

@rhoorl @disassociation-daydreams @quinnnfabrgay @chronically-ghosted @fuckyeahdindjarin

@chiriwritesstuff @copperhalfcent @bluestar22x @5oh5 @gobaaby-blog-blog

@myloveistoolittle @pastawench @maggiemayhemnj @secretelephanttattoo @yesjazzywazzylove-blog

@thethirstwivesclub @seratuyo @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @toomanytookas @survivingandenduring

@lizzie-cakes @sawymredfox @iloveenya @elegantduckturtle @covetyou

@undercoverpena @connectioneverywhere @trulybetty @nerdieforpedro @thisneozonerecs

@sir-thisisadndserver @goodwithcheese @anavatazes @doughmonkey @lilmizmoz

@76bookworm76

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #pedro pascal characters #frankie morales x ofc #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x f!reader #francisco catfish morales #triple frontier fic #frankie morales smut #frankie morales angst #adrift with you series #jett's writing

185 notes · View notes

holllandtrash · 1 year

Text

6 to 1 | lando norris (part 1)

paring: lando norris x leclerc!reader part 1 in the 6 to 1 series

being charles' little sister has its perks, such as traveling to the races, meeting a variety of people and becoming friends with the drivers. but when one driver is offended by your personal ranking, he makes it his mission to change your mind

word count: 5.7k tags: established friendships, minor social media au aspects, its just a soft start to a whirlwind series also poorly translated Italian and French, this whole series is a friends to lovers trope

Of course you had favourites.

Charles was number one, he was your brother.

Carlos next, obviously. You were a Ferrari fan through and through.

Daniel Ricciardo was still a favourite, reserve driver or not, you made your support for Daniel very clear and would post photos of yourself in his merch any chance you got.

And then Pierre. He was Charles' best friend, someone you had also known for years. He spent Christmases with you, countless birthdays, everything. You wanted to see him succeed.

“I’m fifth?” Lando couldn’t believe your ranking and how low he was. He hit his hand on the table, causing your glass of water to shake. “Fifth? You’re joking.”

You pondered it for a second before nodding your head. Lando took a sigh of relief, thinking he made it past number five in your standings.

“You’re right,” you said. “I am joking. You’re sixth. I’ve kind of been rooting for Lance recently. The Canadian’s wormed his way into my heart.”

Lando leaned back in his chair looking absolutely defeated. “Unbelievable,” he huffed out, crossing his arms across his chest. The pout that played on his lips made him look about four years younger and it only made you laugh as you reached across the table and ruffled his hair playfully.

“Relax, Norris, at least you’re in the top ten.”

“But six!” He exclaimed. “Danny’s not even driving.”

You shrugged and took another sip of your water, “Still love him.”

“Is that why you’re wearing DR3 merch instead of mine?”

You looked down. You were in fact wearing a t-shirt from Daniel’s newest collection that recently dropped. He even had the heart to sign the back for you before personally delivering it.

“I never wear your merch.”

“Because you hate me.”

You rolled your eyes, “You’re dramatic.”

You jumped when you felt a pair of hands on your shoulders. You barely had time to glance up before your sunglasses were pulled from your head and the perpetrator, your brother's teammate, slid into the chair next to Lando.

“Give them back,” you reached for the glasses but Carlos only dodged your hand and put the dark shades on his own face.

He turned to Lando, a cheesy grin plastered on his face, “How do I look?”

Lando, still grumpy, said, “Like someone who doesn’t consider me one of her favourite drivers.”

Carlos had a good laugh at that, “Really, Y/N? He’s not in the top three?”

“Not even in the top five!” Lando shouted, gesturing towards you as you innocently spun your straw around your glass. “Lance bloody Stroll booted me to sixth.”

“He is higher than you in the driver standings.”

“That’s it,” Lando grumbled, standing up from the chair so harsh that it would have fallen backwards if Carlos hadn't caught it. Lando furiously pointed a finger at you and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing. “I will work my way up to being your favourite driver, mark my words.”

You shrugged again, “You can certainly try.”

Lando proceeded to muter a few choice words under his breath as he stalked off, leaving you and Carlos to burst out laughing.

“Why do you give him such a hard time?” Carlos asked.

“It’s entertaining for me.” You turned your head, just able to see a sliver of Lando before he disappeared into the Paddock crowd. The corner of your lips curled upwards, “And now I want to know what sort of plan he’s going to come up with.”

Your conversation with Lando had slipped from your mind by the end of the race weekend. In fact, you had been so caught up with Charles’ performance on Saturday and Sunday that you weren't thinking about the McLaren driver until he was right in front of you.

You walked behind Charles down the tarmac towards the private jet that would take you two and Arthur back to Monaco. Usually you claimed the seat on the right at the very back of the plane but when you walked in and saw it was taken by the British boy with curls atop his head, you were thrown for a loop.

“Morning,” Lando greeted. He wore a matching jumper and sweats set from his own Quadrant line. On the small table in front of him he pushed forward a small white box as you slowly approached. “For you.”

You shot a glance at Charles, one that basically asked what the hell was Lando doing here. Charles laughed as he searched for his headphones, “We’re all going to the same place.”

“He’s in my seat.”

“This is your seat?” Lando sounded apologetic. You looked back at him and watched as he rushed to collect his things, except for the white box, and he moved to the seat on the other side of the aisle.

You were confused, that’s for damn sure. Lando never just casually caught a ride with your family. But you were also tired and didn’t care too much about his presence as long as he left you alone for the duration of the flight.

You made yourself comfortable in the leather recliner, closing your eyes almost immediately. They would have stayed closed had you not heard Lando obnoxiously clear his throat.

“Lando, if you're trying to move up my driver ranking, this is not the way to do it.”

“Can you just look in the box, please,” Lando sighed. He was leaning over the armrest of his seat, practically falling into the aisle.

A defeated sigh escaped you and you reached for the box, flipping the lid open. If you were being honest with yourself, you had absolutely no idea what was going to be inside. Lando was an enigma. You would have been equally as shocked to see a live frog as you would to see a blade of grass.

But it was neither, thank god. It was a doughnut. And not just any doughnut. It was a filled pastry with a layer of chocolate and cookie crumbles on top, coated with a drizzle of white chocolate. Something that would undoubtedly give you a toothache, but it was mouthwatering nonetheless.

“Chocolate explosion cheesecake doughnut,” Lando explained.

You glanced up at him, eyebrows raised, wondering why he would have bought this for you before the flight this morning.

Lando sighed, as if he was offended you were confused, “You love cheesecake. And chocolate. And doughnuts.” He gestured to the treat, “This is the perfect combination of all three.”

He wasn’t wrong, you did love all three of those things. But how did he know that?

“Thanks,” you offered Lando a smile. “But you didn’t have to-”

“I know, I know, But I passed a bakery this morning after my jog,” Lando explained, waving his hand as if to brush off the gesture like it was nothing. “Just thought you’d like a treat during the flight is all.”

“You know, this isn’t going to make me like you more than Lance.”

Lando’s features fell. Just for a moment, but you caught it. He was hoping this one simple doughnut would push him up your standings and he was very wrong.

“Lance didn’t buy you a doughnut.”

“Lance also didn’t take my seat.”

“I gave it back!” He exclaimed loudly, causing Arthur and Charles to both turn their heads to see what was going on. Lando leaned further across the aisle, lowering his voice. “I gave it back.”

“He finished sixth this weekend.”

“I was struggling with tyre degradation.”

“Not my problem,” you shrugged. To be fair, Lando had a pretty decent weekend, but he still finished below Lance and you were going to hold onto that just because you knew it would get under Lando’s nerves.

“You talk to me more than you talk to Lance.”

“No, you talk to me.”

“I. Bought. You. A. Doughnut.” Lando went back to his strongest argument.

“It’ll take a little more than a pastry to move up the rankings.” You leaned into the aisle as well, catching Charle’s eyes. “Posso spingerlo giù dall'aereo?” Can I push him off the plane?

“No,” Charles chuckled, glancing at Lando who was trying to recall the very minimal Italian that he knew. “Sii gentile con lui” Be nice to him.

“Gentile?” Lando repeated, looking back and forth between you and your brother. It was the only word he could pick up on. “Nice? Did Charles just call me nice? Thank you Charles, I’m trying to do a polite thing for your sister and she’s not being respectful.”

You dropped your face to your hand, “Lo spingerò giù dall'aereo.” I’m going to push him off the plane.

“Y/N don’t do that. Lando, Mate I don’t think bribing Y/N with a doughnut is going to do you any favours,” Charles retorted, still laughing. At this point, the only person not laughing was Lando. “Now put your seatbelts on.”

You and Lando exchanged a similar look, a challenging one. Eyes slightly narrowed, a smirk playing on your lips. He was going to make it his mission to become your favourite driver and you were intent on not letting that happen.

Once you were in the air, Charles got up out of his seat to come and talk to you about plans for dinner this week with your mum. You brought one leg up to your chest as you spoke to your older brother, switching between French and Italian throughout the duration of the conversation. That was common for you two, but you noticed that Lando was watching intensely, probably trying to figure out if you two were talking about him.

Charles noticed too and dipped his head in an attempt to stifle his laughter, “Tu seras sa mort.” You’ll be the death of him.

“Possibly, but that’s what makes this fun,” You swiftly turned your head to face the British driver. “Right?”

Lando held his hands up defensively, “I’m not agreeing with anything you just said. I don’t even know what you said.”

“Then stop trying to eavesdrop,” You stretched your hand out to land a playful hit on his arm. One would have thought you just bruised his bone with the way he reacted, retracting his arm into his chest and inhaling a very dramatic breath. You rolled your eyes, “We weren’t talking about you, by the way. We were talking about plans for dinner.”

“For tonight?” Lando asked, face lighting up immediately. “Perfect. I’m in.”

Charles’ head fell back with laughter as he turned around, leaving you to deal with this conversation on your own.

“No, you idiot,” you stared at him in disbelief. “With our mother, later this week.”

“Oh,” he nodded, poking his tongue out to lick his lips before his eyebrows pinched together, “So what’s happening tonight?”

“Nothing’s happening tonight.”

“So you’re free for me to take you out on a date?”

Charles’ and Arthur’s laughter echoed through the plane and it took everything in you not to laugh as well, but you genuinely couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not. You were also very taken aback by his abruptness of the question, like this was casual, like you guys had hung out outside the paddock before, you hadn’t.

“Lando if this is about my driver ranking-”

“Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t,” Lando shrugged, but his cheeky grin told you it was. He reached across the aisle and nudged your arm, “Come on, Y/N, let’s do something fun in Monaco.”

When it clicked for all of you that this wasn’t a joke, Charles stood up from his seat, eyes darting back and forth between you and Lando a few times before landing on him, “No, absolutely not. You’re not going on a date with my sister.”

“Don’t think that’s up for you to decide.” Lando looked at you expectantly. His hazel eyes bore into yours and with the way the early morning sunlight flooded through the small windows, he seemed to quite literally be glowing.

You almost said yes because of the way he was looking at you. A hopeful, boyish smile on his lips. Chin rested in his hand so innocently. Head tilted the slightest bit. How could you say no to that?

You had to.

“Lando, I’m not going on a date with you.”

To end the conversation, you found your airpods and pulled out your phone, making yourself look as busy as possible, even if you were just scrolling through different social media platforms. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Lando shift in his seat, trying to decide if he should interrupt you or not.

Eventually he decided not to. Probably figuring that asking you out on a date for a second time wouldn’t go over well with you, or with Charles for that matter.

But that didn’t mean he was done trying.

ynleclerc

liked by carlossainz55, landonorris and 17, 932 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, carlossainz55

ynleclerc spanish grand prix but im the only one that looks good

view all 2,301 comments

charles_leclerc i don't like this

carlossainz55 why did you include that one of me

ynleclerc because it made me giggle ynleclerc ti amo❤️

dailyyferrari y/n is really out here giving us the ferrari boys content

hamileclerc okay but can we talk about her style

sunshinemick paddock queen

16paddocks idc what anyone else says i think her and carlos would make the cutest couple

helpmelando charles would never let her date a driver LMAO

------

When you stepped off the plane, Lando was quick to take your bags from you so you didn’t have to carry them to the car that was waiting for you. Charles lightly smacked him upside the head, muttering something under his breath about how Lando wasn’t allowed to hit on his sister.

Lando ignored it, like he ignored most signs and instructions. He waited until getting to the car, making sure to grab the door and hold it open for you.

“Being chivalrous isn’t going to do anything for my driver ranking.”

“I’m just being nice.”

“You have ulterior motives.”

“No,” Lando argued. Your eyebrows pinched together and he changed his answer. “Okay fine, yes I want you to like me more. Let me take you out, Y/N. It’ll be fun.”

It wasn’t like Charles controlled your life, but you did worry about what he would think if you and Lando did go out, even just for an innocent dinner. Lando could sense your hesitation as you glanced at your older brother a few feet away and he just nodded and drummed his fingers against the car window.

“I’ll see you around, then,” taking your silence as an answer. He gave you a gentle smile, one that matched the rest of his soft features before shutting the door.

You didn’t expect to hear from Lando until the next race and honestly, that would have been for the better. That plane ride with him was enough. And him asking you on a date? Where the hell did that come from? You understood that Lando just wanted to move up your personal driver rankings, but you were conflicted about that potentially leading to spending more time with him.

Lando was someone you’ve known for a few years now. You were always friendly in the paddock or any social events, you shared some entertaining banter, but never once did you spend time together in between races.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to, you did like Lando and his company, but similar to Carlos or Daniel, he was a friend. A friend you saw when you watched a grand prix and nothing more. It didn’t make sense to see him on a more regular basis.

Also Charles would kill you if you went on a date with a driver.

Luckily for you, the second you stepped into your flat, all thoughts of the McLaren driver left your mind. You had to unpack, you needed to do laundry, you needed to meal prep for the upcoming week. You’d been gone for four days so god did you need to clean. Basic chores kept you busy for the majority of the day until you found yourself needing to make dinner.

You had just placed a homemade pizza in the oven and licked some excess tomato sauce off your thumb when there was a knock on your door.

This didn’t alarm you. You ordered a lot of packages, you figured this was another one. Or maybe it was one of your friends because they knew you were back home. It wasn’t strange that someone was stopping by.

It was strange that the person on the other side of your door was Lando.

You had half a mind to shut the door in his face.

“I said no date.”

“This isn’t a date!” Lando defended himself, but the single daisy between his fingers told you otherwise. Lando noticed you eyeing it and he held it out towards you, “I passed a shrub of daisies, what was I supposed to do? Not grab you one?”

Reluctantly, you took the flower from him, spinning it between your forefinger and your thumb. Dozens of questions flooded through your mind, but instead of making him stand in your foyer as you pondered which one to ask, you nodded your head to invite him inside.

Lando smiled and shut the door behind him. He had changed out of his jumper from earlier, now in a pair of black joggers and, of course, a Quadrant t-shirt.

You had changed as well, now in a matching cotton pj set that was beige with little red hearts on it. You noticed that Lando’s eyes lingered on your bare legs for longer than he probably should have.

“How’d you know?” You asked.

Lando cleared his throat, “How’d I know what?”

“That I like daisies.”

He shifted onto the balls of his feet, “You have a daisy tattoo.”

Your eyebrows raised due to suspicion, “Not anywhere visible.”

The small flower was inked into your side on your ribcage, just below the curve of your breast. It wasn’t everyday you walked around topless, so you were certainly confused as to how Lando of all people had become aware of it.

Lando knew he had been caught out. He inhaled a sharp breath, quickly trying to figure out how to get out of this grave he had dug for himself.

“Word spreads,” he shrugged.

“Word spreads?” You repeated back to him. You knew exactly what that meant. You pushed on his chest and reached for the handle of the door, practically shoving him out. “Get out of my flat, Lando. And take your fucking daisy.”

You crumpled it between your fingers until the pedals turned to remnants of what it used to be before throwing it in his face. Lando didn’t let you shut the door though, he kept his palm against the surface and pushed it open. You were strong, but nowhere near as strong as a Formula 1 driver.

“Hey, come on,” Lando tried to reason with you. “I’m not the one who talks, Y/N. I didn’t tell anyone, I swear. It’s not my place.”

He leaned against the side of the door, refusing to break your stare until you believed he was telling the truth. You pressed your lips together tightly, telling yourself that Lando was only the middle man in this unfortunate turn of events. You were annoyed, definitely, but you didn’t need to take it out on him.

“I want to know what he said,” you decided, swinging the door open for the second time.

And that’s how you found yourself on the couch with Lando as he relayed to you everything that Pierre had told him.

It was a mistake, honestly. One that you didn’t think you regretted that much, but now you were thinking otherwise.

Last Christmas when Pierre came to visit the Leclerc family, the two of you ended up splitting a bottle of wine, or maybe two, and when the end of the night came, instead of going to his hotel, Pierre came with you back to your flat.

You had known Pierre for years through Charles, but that night there was a magnetic pull that had you craving him. It was probably the wine.

He kissed you, something that you shouldn't have let happen but you were giddy and drunk and it was the holidays so all logic slipped from mind. Pierre kissed you and for the rest of the night, nothing else seemed to matter.

But when you woke up in your bed the next morning, limbs tangled with his and the sheets, you both agreed that it could never happen again. You also agreed that you would never talk about it. The last thing you needed was Charles’ finding out about a one night stand between his best friend and his sister and neither of you wanted to start any gossip in the paddock.

That’s what you thought, at least. Because apparently Pierre had told Lando every stupid detail about that night, including the tattoo that he had noticed on your side.

“È uno stronzo," He’s an asshole. With your arm resting along the back of the couch, you dropped your face to rest in your hand. Lando knew just enough Italian that he didn't have to ask for a translation. “We agreed not to tell anyone. Who else knows?”

Lando shrugged and usually that was a cop out answer, but you believed that he truly didn’t know. “I don’t think he told Carlos. Danny might know. Yuki? I don’t know, Y/N, I’m sorry. Pierre loves to talk.”

“I just don’t want this to get back to Charles.”

He nodded, understanding where you were coming from, “If it helps, I haven’t told anyone.”

You couldn’t help but glare at him, “What do you want? An award for doing the bare fucking minimum? You could have told Pierre to not talk about me.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry,” Lando cowered back into his corner of the couch. He felt bad about this situation, but you also sort of intimidated him. He didn’t know how to help. It just seemed like everything he said or did made it a little bit worse.

He was so tense that when the timer on your oven went off, he flinched in response.

You slid off the couch and headed towards the kitchen. When you put the pizza on a cooling rack, you glanced over your shoulder to catch a peak at Lando, only to find him watching you. You nodded your head towards the plate in your hand, “Did you want some?”

“Of what?”

He didn’t think sometimes. “Lando, what the hell does it smell like in here?”

“Piz- oh, yeah sure I’d love a slice,” his boyish grin returned and you grabbed a second plate out for him. You also grabbed a bottle of wine from the cart in the corner, but Lando’s voice stopped you from popping out the cork. “Oh I’m okay, I don’t actually drink wine.”

You had nothing against drinking alone, but for reasons you couldn’t really explain, it felt wrong to pour yourself a glass of wine and enjoy it in Lando’s presence.

So you opted for a few bottles of Perrier instead. You balanced the plates on one arm and carried the sparkling water in your hand. When you came back to the couch, Lando was quick to take the dishes from you so you could get comfortable in your spot.

He took a bite of the pizza and immediately sucked in a breath as if that would help cool it down. You wanted to roll your eyes at how daft he could be sometimes. It was a wonder how this man could memorise over twenty different track layouts and withstand up to 5G, but couldn’t remember to let his food cool down before eating.

Lando must have noticed you smiling to yourself and he took a sip of water before asking about it, “What’s that look for?”

“Nothing,” you were still smiling, “You’re just funny, is all.”

“I’m funny?” He repeated, mirroring your expression as he saw it as a compliment. The slightest bit of an ego boost did wonders for his mood. “Why thank you.”

You were starting to learn which battles to pick with Lando. Correcting him about your concerns regarding his mentality was not one of them.

“So you came over here for what reason?” You asked, eyeing the crumbled up flower near your front door.

“For a date,” Lando answered like it was the easiest question in the world. “I just assumed you had to say no earlier, for Charles’ sake.”

You scoffed, “I said no because I didn’t want to go on a date with you.”

“So what are we doing right now?”

He had you there.

You may not have gone out and done something ‘fun’ but you did invite him inside and now you were sharing a few slices of homemade pizza. You almost opened a bottle of wine.

“This isn’t a date,” it was a piss poor argument, but it was all you could come up with.

“Agree to disagree,” Lando looked pleased with himself. “And I don’t see Lance showing up at your door, with a flower, wanting to hang out with you.”

“Maybe because Lance lives in Montreal,” you retorted. “And he also has a girlfriend.”

“So why do you like him more than me?” Lando raised his voice but there was still a lingering playful understone.

“He’s a better driver,” you took another bite of pizza, ignoring the way Lando was staring at you like you offended the last five generations of his family. When you finally looked up, you rolled your eyes at his dumbstruck expression, covering your mouth with your hand as you finished chewing. “Lando, he’s literally sitting at ninth in the driver standings. Your tenth. Maybe get some points and I’ll like you more.”

“You’re harsh,” Lando shook his head at your words as he stood up from the couch. For a second you wondered where he was going but he just pointed at the kitchen, “Mind if I grab another slice?”

“Oh, you like my cooking?”

“I do, actually,” Lando chuckled. He put a few more slices on his plate. “You’ve got some good culinary skills. This crust?” He lifted his fingers to his lips, kissing the tip of them to express his appreciation for your homemade pizza. “You should open up a restaurant.”

Your head dipped backwards as you laughed, “You’ve tried one meal. I could be absolute shit at making everything else.”

“I don’t believe that,” Lando shook his head as he returned to the couch. This time when he sat down, you noticed he positioned himself more towards you than forwards.

“Why not?”

Lando hesitated, taking a breath before answering, “I don’t think it's possible for you to be shit at anything. If you have the same determination as Charles, which I think you do, it’s probably safe to say that when you put your mind to something, you excel.”

It was a nice compliment, but you didn’t let his words affect you the way he would have hoped.

“You’re still sixth in my ranking.”

“For now.”

“Forever.”

Lando opened his mouth only for his jaw to immediately close. You straightened up and nudged his foot with yours.

“Say it.”

“Say what?”

“Whatever you were about to say”

“I forgot,” Lando shrugged it off, but you knew he was lying. He had a horrible poker face. It also didn’t help that he quickly scarfed down the rest of his pizza and stood up, avoiding this conversation.

You watched as he walked to the kitchen and turned the tap on to start washing the single dish he used. You braced your arm over the back of the couch, “Just leave it, I can clean it later.”

His jaw dropped in fake astonishment, “Leave it? I was raised better than that. You fed me, I can clean. Equal trade.”

“Lando-

“Shut up Y/N, let me do the dishes.” He then moved to grab a few cutting boards and other utensils you used and left out.

You weren’t sure what was going through his mind as he cleaned up your mess. You just watched, trying to piece together the puzzle that was Lando.

This was his first time at your place, so it took a while for him to figure out where you kept your dish rags and soap, but it was entertaining watching as he navigated through your cupboards and drawers.

After a few minutes, he wiped his hands on his pants and made his way towards the back of the couch. You stared up at him, but instantly regretted that as he flicked his hand in front of your face. A few stray drops of water landed on your cheeks and you pushed on his abdomen.

“Oh you asshole,” you wiped your face as Lando only laughed and grabbed your now empty plate. You followed him to the kitchen this time though, nudging your hip against his so he would move out of the way for you to grab a towel.

“You could always hire me as a dishwasher if being a driver doesn’t work out for me,” Lando suggested.

"One, I'm not opening up a restaurant," you started, hearing a scoff from Lando. "Two, hiring you would mean I have to see you all the time."

"That's not so bad."

You didn't answer, relying on your judgmental eyeroll and pursed lips to get the message across. Lando snatched another towel from the drawer and rolled it up, snapping it against your bare forearm.

"Ouch," you hissed at him, grabbing the spot that had just been hit. Now it was Lando's turn to roll his eyes.

He pushed your hand out of the way and brushed his thumb against the faint red mark on your arm that would certainly disappear within the next ten minutes. You may have reacted dramatically.

Okay, you definitely did. You grew up with three older brothers. A little roughhousing was not going to be the end of you. Lando knew this.

"Oh you're fine," he assured you, his fingers lingering on your skin longer than they needed to before he turned back around.

You wiped down the counter and Lando grabbed a few dishes that had been sitting in the drying rack. As he turned around, he placed his hand on your waist to gently move you out of the way so he could put the plates in the cupboard. A much nicer gesture compared to you just pushing against his side earlier.

Even though this was the first time Lando was visiting your flat, you two managed to fall into a pretty good flow as you finished cleaning up your kitchen. What started as just picking up after dinner turned into tidying everything else up.

Conversation flowed as well. He didn’t bring up your driver ranking, he asked what your plans were this week. He asked about any upcoming modelling projects you had lined up. He wanted to know if you’d be at the next race and he seemed excited when your answer was yes.

Before you knew it, almost two hours had passed of the two of you just standing in your kitchen, talking. It was easy to talk to someone who made you laugh every five minutes and Lando just didn’t seem to have an excuse to leave, so he didn’t.

This was the most amount of time you had ever spent with the British driver.

And you didn’t hate it.

It wasn’t until a yawn slipped out as Lando was talking did you both realise what time it was. Lando pulled out his phone at the same time you did. Either you put it on silent and didn’t notice or you had just been too engrossed with Lando and your conversation to notice that Charles had texted you a number of times.

“Everything okay?” Lando asked, noticing your expression.

You briefly skimmed the messages, but then decided you didn’t want to deal with your brother right now, “Yeah just Charles. I’ll call him back in the morning.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for you to ignore-”

You raised a hand to stop him mid-apology, “Don’t apologise, really.” You glanced around your pristine kitchen before your eyes landed on his, momentarily asking yourself why you turned him down in the first place. “Tonight was…weirdly fun. Even though you showed up unannounced and I found out Pierre told half the grid that we hooked up.”

Lando clenched his jaw and inhaled a sharp breath, “Yeah, sorry about that. Not about showing up unannounced, I don’t regret that, but about the whole Pierre thing.”

Leave it to Lando to not feel any bit of remorse for crashing your do-nothing plans after you rejected a date with him.

You walked him to the front door and leaned against the wall with your arms crossed, watching to make sure he wasn’t forgetting anything. He then looked down at the flower right next to his feet.

“Sorry,” you muttered. You could admit you overreacted.

“Don’t be,” Lando shook his head. “I’ll just get you a bouquet next time, it’s probably harder to destroy.”

Your jaw dropped slightly, “Next time?”

Lando tilted his head, that same cheeky grin making a reappearance, “Oh. Yeah. You can’t get rid of me that easily. I’m still on a mission.” He gestured towards your kitchen. “I can’t believe I cleaned for you and you still like Lance better than me.”

“I mean,” you inhaled a heavy breath. Were you really about to say this? You could already see Lando’s expression turn hopeful and you had to avert your gaze, looking up at the ceiling instead. “It’s probably safe to say that Pierre isn’t on that top five list anymore.”

“He’s bumped down?” Lando asked. You nodded and you could tell how ecstatic he was over this news. “So by default, I’m number 5?”

“Sure, by default you’ve made it into the top five.”

Lando actually fist pumped the air. You rolled your eyes, dragging your hand over your face before reaching for the door. You pulled it open and for the second time tonight, you were pushing him out of your flat.

“Goodnight, Lando.” you went to shut the door, but just like earlier, he stopped it.

He stepped closer, his line of sight trailing upwards, taking his time to really look at all of the details on your face. Like how no matter how hard you were trying to look annoyed, a sliver of a smile still poked through. There was an indent above your right eyebrow, he hadn’t noticed it before and he made a mental note to ask you about it the next time he saw you. He then landed on your eyes and he cleared his throat, suddenly feeling his mouth becoming very dry.

“In all honesty, thanks for inviting me in,” Lando told you. His words sounded genuine. It almost made you forget about his ridiculous move-up-your-ranking operation.

“Yeah, just don’t make a habit of showing up uninvited,” you said.

“No promises.”

He shot you a wink before taking a few steps backwards and away from your flat. You watched for a few seconds, making sure he got into his car safely. Once he turned it on, you shut the door and released a breath you weren’t even aware you had been keeping in.

As you heard him drive away, you ignored an unfamiliar twisting feeling in the pit of your stomach. You also paid no attention to the fact that your flat just seemed so empty without him and almost eerily quiet after his laughter filled up the space for the last few hours. And of course, you refused to let yourself think about what would have happened if you did agree to the date.

But you did ask yourself one question.

What the hell were you getting yourself into?

a fun new little lando series (will be about 5-6 parts) can't wait to hear your thoughts

masterlist here part 2 here

#lando norris #lando norris one shot #lando norris au #lando norris instagram edit #lando norris social media au #lando norris fic #f1 requests #f1 #f1 fic #formula 1 #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #holllandtrash

2K notes · View notes

frvnkcastles · 5 months

Text

WANT YOU SO BAD ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: You’re Matt’s best friend and you don’t much care for how Frank treats him — but you do end up caring for the man himself.

Warnings: Language, mentions of wounds, mutual pining

Word count: 1.8k

Author’s note: Ohmygod this request is literally 8 months old, I feel so bad it took me so long but here it finally is. Anon, if you see this, I hope you enjoy it, I’m thinking of you today <3

It was no easy feat being best friends with a vigilante — as much had been proven to you ever since you had bonded with Matt Murdock. You were constantly worried about him and for someone who had no prior experience, you sure found yourself doing a lot of stitching and nursing. Sometimes you wondered what it would be like to only know the lawyer side of him, but since he had saved your life as Daredevil and you had pieced his identity together all on your own, there was no changing the facts of your friendship. And those were 1) you were scared he was gonna get himself killed one day, and 2) you were going to do all you could to protect him, just like he protected you.

So, when a certain second vigilante made his debut in your city and Matt found himself in trouble yet again, you made the big bad Punisher someone you kept your eye on — for Matt’s sake, of course.

You weren’t in their little group, so you didn’t cross paths with him too quickly, and you doubted Matt would have introduced you to him. But as fate would have it, you and Frank frequented the same diner near your apartment, and on a Saturday night just like any other, you found the man sipping coffee in the corner booth of your favorite place to get French fries.

You placed your order and then, defiantly as ever, strutted your way to Frank and sat down across from him with a stern stare etched onto your face. His own expression spoke in volumes — who the Hell were you to invade his personal space and alone time? Still, he didn’t say anything, only stared back at you, trying to figure out why you looked so familiar. Had he killed someone close to you?

”You don’t know me, but I know you”, you started, inhaling and exhaling heavily to keep your anger at bay. ”You shot my best friend in the head, you asshole”, you seethed, keeping your voice quiet to avoid other patrons overhearing you, but it was still obvious you were pissed at him.

At that, Frank chuckled. ”You’re Red’s friend”, he put two and two together, and as he reached for his coffee mug again, you snatched it away from him, evoking a frustrated glare from him.

”Damn right I am. He’s just trying to protect the people in this city. He did nothing to deserve your… your shitstorm”, you ranted, pointing a blaming finger right at his chest. He lowered his eyes to your hand, but eventually looked right back up at you, leaning in to close the distance and whisper his counter-argument over the table.

”Yeah? Tell your friend he’s a fuckin’ coward. The criminals in this city… they don’t deserve a second chance. He ain’t makin’ any difference. I put a stop to ’em”, he growled, his eyes a bottomless pit as you made contact with them, and something about the sincere fury in them made you swallow. You were angry, but so was he, that much was obvious.

Before you could say anything more, the lady working at the diner brought your bag of food over to you, and gave you a reason to leave Frank alone. As you got up, you clenched your jaw and gave him one last look.

”I’ve got my eye on you”, you warned him, and as you walked away, Frank couldn’t help but chuckle. You were a force, and as much as he tried to resist, he felt drawn to that.

The next time you and Frank were in the same orbit, you were having a night out with your two best friends. It wasn’t the classiest bar, and maybe that was why it had attracted lowlifes to its pool table, but the drinks they served were cheap and the music they played good enough to dance to — that was why you were there, and that was exactly what you told him when he found you by the counter.

”This place ain’t safe”, he spoke quietly by your ear, trying to warn you, but you were feeling stubborn and a little drunk, so his attempt to get you out didn’t go too well.

”Screw you, who are you to tell me I can’t enjoy a night out?” you spat at him, loud enough for the gang members by the pool table to turn their attention to you. You were nobody to them, but Frank? He was far too easily recognized, and before you realized it, a full-blown gunfight had broken out.

Frank hauled you over the bar counter and you crouched onto the floor to shield yourself from the gunfire. Screams filled the night as people ran out of the bar, but Frank ran towards the danger, reminding you all too much of Matt. But when you peeked over the counter, you saw him in all his glory, and in that moment, he wasn’t like your best friend at all. Whereas Matt was graceful and precise in his movements, Frank was brute power, using his fists when guns didn’t do the trick. Blood coated his knuckles and he didn’t stop even when the men were down — only when they lay dead and he could catch his breath over their bodies.

You stood up and stared at him in some kind of wonder and amazement, but the words that tumbled out of your mouth were far from appreciative. ”Way to ruin girls’ night”, you scoffed, and rolling his eyes, Frank looked you over to make sure you were okay.

”They get you?” he rasped, and shaking your head, you smoothed your hands over your dress.

”I’m good.”

Nodding, Frank wiped his hands against his jeans and then offered one to you. ”Aight. I’m walkin’ you home. Don’t even try and protest, sweetheart.”

Reluctantly, you took his hand. ”I’m not your sweetheart”, you muttered under your breath, but he heard it, anyway, and it made him crack half a smile.

For such a big city, your circles seemed to be quite small. You ran into each other almost habitually after that, and without fail you managed to lecture him about treating Matt better and he argued back. But in between those little spats, you had both developed a liking to seeing each other, even if neither of you would admit it. Still, you couldn’t stop thinking about him, and you were doing a hell of a job distracting him from his mission, just by being you.

Undoubtedly, you had gotten under his skin, because not much time had gone by when he was actually working with Matt, not against him. Of course, you only learned about this when the two men appeared at your doorstep in the middle of the night.

You opened the door only to find Matt struggling to support Frank’s weight on him, a pool of blood soaking through the latter’s shirt. ”What the fuck?” you breathed out, stepping aside to let them in, and Matt didn’t waste any time in getting Frank to your couch.

”He took a knife for me”, Matt explained vaguely before turning to you and placing a hand on your shoulder. ”I need to go back out and make sure they didn’t follow us here. Can you handle him?” he asked you with genuine concern behind his words, but you didn’t hesitate.

”Yeah, I got this. Go, get out of here”, you urged him, and with that, he fled the apartment and left you alone with a groaning Frank. You glanced at him before heading for the bathroom where you quickly grabbed your first-aid kit and then stepped back into the living room where you crouched in front of him.

”I can do it myself”, Frank tried, but you slapped his hand away and gave him a glare.

”I got it. Take your shirt off”, you commanded, and for a second, Frank simply looked at you, but eventually caved in. With a huff, he struggled to get his shirt off but soon enough it was tossed onto the floor and you could get a good look at the gash on his abdomen. ”Okay. Definitely needs stitches but you’ll live”, you assessed the situation before taking out the disinfectant and getting to work.

You were both silent for a moment, with you focusing on Frank and Frank looking around the apartment, taking in all the details. It was so you. You had turned the place into a home, something he hadn’t been in for a long time, and against his better judgment, he relaxed. With you, he felt safe, like he could breathe again.

”So, you were protecting him, huh?” you asked finally, not looking up from the wound but the teasing tone in your voice was obvious.

Frank snorted. ”It ain’t that deep. You look after the people on your team, ’s all. I wasn’t gonna be outnumbered like that”, he explained it away, and now, it was your turn to chuckle.

”You sure you didn’t get attached? Maybe it started out as a rivalry, but then you realized he wasn’t so bad, after all. In fact, he’s kind of nice. Just what you needed. And now you can’t imagine being without him”, you theorized, right as you completed the final stitch.

”We still talkin’ about Red?” Frank asked in that deep voice of his, and your heart skipped a beat. You looked up at him, your eyes locked on each other, and suddenly you were painfully aware of his shirtless state. It was truly a sight to behold — he was sculpted like an artist’s handiwork, and now, with your neatly applied stitches on him, maybe he was.

”I’m done now”, you evaded the question while reaching for his shirt and handing it back over to him. Frank shrugged it back on, and you made a move to get up from the floor, but he stopped you with a gentle hand on your wrist.

”I did get attached”, he admitted quietly, avoiding your eyes for a beat before looking right into your soul and tilting his head at you. You were situated right between his knees, resting on top of your own, and it gave him the perfect angle to lean down and seal the distance between your lips. His landed on yours like a magnet was pulling them together, soft and sweet, not at all as rough or intimidating as he was. With you, he was gentle and tender, and your heart fluttered when he pulled away.

”Red’s gonna be so mad”, he whispered, and you couldn’t help but giggle, both of you chuckling before he kissed you again, a little more determined and heavy this time. Your eyes closed and you brought both hands to his face, cradling him and holding him close to you, all the while you breathed each other in.

”I guess he’s just gonna have to deal with it.”

#frank castle #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle x reader #the punisher #the punisher x reader

376 notes · View notes

thebestofoneshots · 5 months

Text

Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 7.3 K Warnings: Graphic descriptions of violence. (Reader discretion is advised). Prompt: It's the night of the prank This IS a wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it.

Chapter 28: If You Want BIood (You’ve Got It)

You were walking through the dark halls, wand raised with a lumus charm so you could see better. You already knew the path you had to follow, it was almost exactly the same one that you used to get to the fireworms but a little further and then 3 lefts and 2 rights.

You wouldn’t say you’d pride yourself on your sense of direction, you had gotten lost in the castle more than once, but you had been in the passageways so often, and you had explored them and gotten lost in them just as many times. You had already taken three lefts and were about to take a right when Sirius appeared in front of you.

“Oh hey–“ You started, but were cut off by the way he scooped you into his arms, hugging you tightly, he leaned his head on the crook of your neck.

“Missed you,” he whispered into your hair.

You frowned, what’s gotten into him? “I saw you in the morning.”

“But you sat far away,” he whined. You frowned but finally hugged him back. It’s not that you didn’t like when Sirius was clingy, in fact, you loved it. But most of the time he got clingy it was because something was up.

Could it be because of your wound? But he had known about it for a week, and he hadn’t been this clingy earlier. In fact, he’d been a lot more concerned and serious about it. Yeah worried, and definitely a little touchy when you fell asleep on his bed, but not clingy. You noticed he was still nozzled in your neck after a couple of minutes, and felt how he took a deep breath “Are you smelling me?” you asked in disbelief, a teasing smile slowly creeping up your mouth.

He pulled away, a sly little smile on his lip. Am I really the one that’s a fox? You wondered as his smile widened to a grin, “Got a problem with it trésor?”

You almost rolled your eyes, you had let it slip that you liked it when he spoke French to you and he was making a conscious effort to fluster you about it whenever he had the chance. “Non, mon coquin,” you replied with a little smirk.

He gasped “Take that back!”

“Is it not accurate?” you teased again.

“Oi! I swear if you–“

“Everything all right?” You heard Remus’ conciliating voice from behind.

“She called me coquin!” Sirius complained with a pout. Looking an awful lot like a small child.

He looks adorable, both you and Remus thought.

“So?” Remus asked, he did not speak much French.

You giggled and placed your hand on his shoulder, he leaned towards you “It means rascal, naughty or… mischief.”

Remus nodded and turned back to Sirius. “I’d say it’s accurate,” he said with a shrug.

You covered your mouth with your hands and attempted to hold back a laugh. “Moony!” Sirius complained, “don’t back her up! I was trying to be cute-“

You shook your head, “–he was trying to fluster me.”

Remus wasn’t sure what he was doing in the middle of such a silly discussion, but since both you and Sirius looked absolutely adorable, he wasn’t sure he cared too much “How come?”

“I called her trésor.” Remus looked at him expectantly. “It means treasure,” Sirius clarified.

Well, that one’s accurate as well, he thought before he spoke again “Well you’re both mo chailleachan àlainn.” He placed both arms over your and Sirius’ shoulders and prompted you to continue your way.

“Hold up! You’re back at it with the Gaelic?”

“That was Gaelic?” Sirius asked, “No wonder I understood shit.”

Remus shrugged and then with a cheeky little smile responded “You understood it perfectly then.”

Sirius gasped again, turning to Remus just a little, “You wouldn’t dare!”

“Wouldn’t I?” He asked again, pulling Sirius’ shoulder so he would turn back to the front. You just laughed.

“Yeah chachan àlain,” you mocked. Remus laughed at your miserable attempt to speak Gaelic.

“If I’m a chaillchan àlainn so are you!” Sirius argued. “He said it to the both of us.”

Remus sniggered “Indeed, you’re both my chailleachan àlainn,” the way the words rolled off his tongue made it sound as sexy as Sirius’ french.

You elbowed him, and he played hurt. But his fun lasted until the three of you fell into a comfortable silence and his mind started to wonder. Reprimanding himself for calling you what he had, had either of them actually understood, he thought. Of course, Remus knew neither spoke Gaelic, but sometimes words were similar and both you and Sirius spoke like 5 different languages in between each other. He had been stupid.

And more stupid than that, he was just casually hugging the two of you as you walked, not that either seemed to mind. Sirius had a bit of a frown but that was because he thought he’d been called a “shit”, you on the other hand, had a diverted look on your face as you leaned slightly into Remus’ shoulder, clearly pleased over the fact that he had sided with you. But he felt too content, too joyful, it felt –even if it was just for a second– like he could have the two of you, and that you’d be happy to have him as well.

He felt like it was the Halloween Party all over again and you both had your hands all over him, no restrictions attached, the three of you high to the heavens with that euphoric potion. Yes, it was delightful, but at the same time, it was torment. Torment because he knew he couldn’t just give in to his delusional fantasies, torment because he knew there was a limit to how close he could be to the two of you before either noticed, torment because his mind kept telling him to get away. Still, his body refused, refused to let go, refused to stop feeling your warmth. And he had been the one to place himself in that situation this time around. Perhaps, it was he who was the cailleachan in the end.

Either way, he didn’t step away, he knew it would be more suspicious if he did, so he kept his arms around yours and Sirius’ shoulders, careful not to touch the section he had scratched.

“Took you long enough,” the three of you heard Prongs’ voice once you arrived at the meeting point.

“They were having a domestic fight.”

You gasped at that, “It was a small quarrel.”

“No, it wasn’t! You called me a–“

“But you are a…“

“–Guys?” you heard Peter’s voice rise a little as he tried to gather everyone’s attention, interrupting the two of you “Can we discuss your quarrels later on? We don’t have all night.”

“It wasn’t a quarrel,” Sirius muttered to himself. Remus had already stepped away from the two as he went to talk to James and you closed the gap between you and your boyfriend, extending your hand to chase his.

“Hey mischief?” you said, trying to get his attention. He gave you a side look. You leaned your head on his shoulder. “You did hear what I said, right?” He turned his head to you, eyebrows raised like, telling you with his face that he most definitely had, “Yeah, but did you really listen?”

“Yes, it was very clear when you called me coquin.”

You shook your head and leaned into him, to be able to whisper in his ear “I called you mon coquin.”

He turned to you with agape, a silent scoff rolling off his pretty lips. “Oh, so now you’re claiming ownership over me,” he teased, a smile plastered on his face.

“Well, if the shoe fits…” you replied, mirroring his smile.

He pulled you closer to him, brushing his lips against your earlobe before he spoke “Est-ce que ça fait de toi mon trésor?”

Your mouth went dry and you shivered, bIood rushing through your cheeks so fast you weren’t sure you’d be able to play it cool afterwards. Regardless you tried, leaning in closer to his own ear and actually biting his earlobe before speaking again. “Je peux être tout ce que tu veux que je sois…”

“Love puppies, time to focus, please,” James said when he noticed the way Sirius’ eyes had shone. He may or may not have been afraid of what the two of you would have done if he hadn’t stopped you.

You turned to James with a smile and nodded. Remus had averted his gaze, your back was to him, so you didn’t notice, but Sirius did, and he almost felt a pang in his chest when he realised Remus’ slightly bitter reaction. Well, he had felt the pang, but he pretended like he hadn’t. It made no sense for it to be there. You were his girlfriend and Remus was just Remus. Same Remus he’d always been, except that he wasn’t making him feel the same way he always had. His hand settled on your back as the two of you walked closer to Peter, who had the map in a hold.

“So, I’ll get in first and eavesdrop on the password. That way we know what it is. Then the four of you will get in through the door with the cloak on.”

“We won’t fit,” Remus said, remembering how close he had stood to Sirius in the library the previous night.

“Yeah, we thought about that yesterday while you were making the potions,” James spoke and then turned to you “You’re gonna have to turn into Vixen and let us carry you.”

You looked at James for a second, blinking as you processed the information, and then shrugged. “Okay, just be careful when you pick me up.”

James nodded in response, and Peter continued speaking. “Great, once we’re in, we’ll just sneak into their dorms and we’ll help you and Remus with the hex bags.”

“We’re not going to get anyone that’s not on the list,” you said as you looked at them, it was something between a question and a statement. You just wanted them to confirm it. Everyone nodded, except for Sirius, who looked a bit vexed. You threw him a look. “I have friends in Slytherin, you have friends in Slytherin. We can’t punish them all just because of a few assholes are in the same house.”

“They’ve been messing with you since you got here, Starshine.”

“Yes!” you agreed. “A small little group of them have. Not every single one.”

He looked to the side but eventually nodded , “Fine then. Just them.”

“Such a good boy,” Peter teased, in the same tone you’d use for a dog and Sirius almost hexed him. Which just had you all laugh.

“Everyone’s against me tonight,” he complained.

“I’m not,” James said as he placed an arm over Sirius, you gave Remus a diverted little smile, and he returned it with a bit of a shrug. “You’re our best boy after all,” James said, using the same tone Peter had used earlier, and making the rest of you laugh.

Sirius looked at James shocked, like he had been betrayed by his friend. He then removed James’ arm from his shoulders and lagged behind until he was beside you, you leaned towards him a little. “It’s all right Puppy, I’ll make it up to you later.”

He gave you a coquettish little smirk, “You promise?”

You almost rolled your eyes at his lightning-fast change of behaviour, he had never even been actually upset, but decided to humour him instead “Oui, mon amour.”

“I understood that!” James said teasingly.

You just chuckled, “As if it were a secret.”

Sirius’s smile widened. Yes, that was right, he was your love.

Once you reached the end of the passage, just a few metres away from the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room Peter shrunk into Wormtail and disappeared through the door. You looked at him go, still fascinated by how the animgus transformation was so seamless. Yes, you were one yourself, but it’s not like you’d ever seen yourself transform. It had never even occurred to you that the process would be so interesting.

And you were also thinking of how different it was to Remus’ transformation. His was painful, at least you assumed that it was since it had seemed pretty bad when he transformed back in the shack. You still remembered the way he’d yelped and bawled as his skin ripped and gave away to the wolf. The memory caused a shiver to run down your spine.

“You cold?” you heard Remus whisper after he leaned towards you. You all had to be a lot more quiet now that you were close to the Slytherin common room. But the three of you had sat down in the hallway. You were on one side, with Sirius and Remus on each of your side, and James was in front of the three of you, Sirius had been leaning towards the front to be able to talk to him.

“Me?” you asked as you turned to Rem. “No, no. It was more of a… It was just… nervousness,” you lied in the end.

“You’re nervous?” he asked with a bit of a frown, emphasising the “you” as if he didn’t believe it was possible.

“Well, I’ve never sneaked into someone else's dorms to cause havoc,” you argued, digging yourself deeper into your lie. “It’s only natural that I would-“

He shook his head, “That’s not it. I know you, Miss Let’s Add The 100-year-old Veom Instead.”

Sometimes it was annoying how well Remus could read you. You sighed, “well, I’m not nervous, but I’m not cold either. Let’s leave it at that?” He tilted his head to the side as if analysing the situation before nodding, you pulled your feet towards your chest and rested your head over your knees. “You think he’ll take much longer?”

“He has to wait for most of them to be asleep. We can’t risk the door opening up and having no one get in.”

“We should have just gotten Slytherin ties and walked inside like we were part of them…” you huffed.

Remus chuckled “As if the entire school didn’t already know the faces and names of three of the Gryffindor Quidditch Players.”

“Polyjuice potion?”

“And you just have that one around?”

“Well, we made a pretty good one with Slughorn at the beginning of the year...”

“Maybe we should have kept some of it in a vase before handing it over.”

“I did,” you said casually.

Remus looked eyebrows shot upwards as he looked at you, trying to decide if you were joking or not, “You did?!?”

You nodded, “it’s safe and sound on my trunk, in case we ever need it.”

Remus had opened his mouth to speak again when you saw Wormtail returning through the small hole in the wall. He quickly turned, he was still crouching when he turned back, his teeth slowly shrinking to their normal size, which was already a little big for his face.

“It’s emerald enigma,” he whispered, loud enough for the four of you to listen.

You raised your eyebrow, “emerald enigma? really?!?”

“Slytherins aren’t ever particularly clever with their passwords,” James said.

“Once upon a time it was clever schemes,” Sirius said as he turned to you.

You looked at him even more shocked and Remus nodded beside the two of you.

“Time to go then,” James said. Peter was a rat in seconds, and then it was your turn. Just seconds afterwards, you had already turned into your own animagus form and walked towards Sirius’ lap. It’s not that you were certain he’d be the one carrying you, but it made sense.

“Hey Kit,” he said softly as he allowed you to climb over one of his legs and then wrapped his hand under your belly, picking you up as he stood, and then placing his other arm underneath so you felt more secure. You leaned your head on his chest and paid attention to the reaction of the boys. Remus was wrapping the cloak around James and Sirius, while James had leaned closer to you and was staring at you from the side.

James had never seen a fox up close, well he had seen you back at the full moon but it wasn’t the same thing. He seemed genuinely interested, but when he extended his hand to touch you, Sirius pulled back protectively, accidentally crashing into Remus. “Oi!” James complained as he stared.

“She’s still hurt,” Sirius said defensively.

“But she likes to be rubbed behind the ear,” offered Remus.

Sirius nodded, the fact that Remus knew, or how he knew, didn’t even cross his mind. James looked directly at you “May I?”

You didn’t hiss, or emit any other protest sound, so he leaned his hand again, staring at Sirius for permission. Your boyfriend nodded, a little apprehensive still and James pressed his hand onto your head. He was soft, like he was with cats, but then he scratched you the same way Padfoot liked being scratched and all of your hair stood on end.

Involuntarily you turned your head towards him and opened your mouth to bite, your snout was already around his wrist when you realised what you were doing and pulled back, being helped by Sirius who also pulled you back. You looked at James and he had an apologetic look in his face, you too looked like you were sorry for trying to bite him.

“Sorry,” the boy whispered, you nodded and that was that. James did not try to pet you again, at least not for a while, he’d seen how sharp your teeth were.

Remus finished arranging the cloak around the three of them Sirius and you had ended up in the middle, James and Remus on each side, they were all standing pretty close to each other as the three walked outside of the hideout and towards the dungeons. You saw the potions classroom, the boys passed by it as you stared around carefully, as a fox your senses were a lot better than theirs, except perhaps for Remus’ so you kept a close eye on the boy in case either you or him, heard something that would require you to warn them about something.

Eventually, you reached the bare wall that would lead you to the Slytherin Dorms, you felt excitement piling up in the form of a knot in your stomach. You’d wanted to see their dorm for a while now. You had already seen the Ravenclaw and yours, obviously, and for some reason, the goal to sneak into all the different common rooms prowled into your head.

“Emerald Enigma,” James whispered towards the door and slowly the bricks from the wall started moving and opening into a relatively long passageway. The four of you stared ahead, paying close attention to the way the bricks moved and stepped forward as soon as they could comfortably fit through the door. The passageway opened into a rather long room, the ceiling was clearly very high above you, making the place feel almost nothing like the dungeons. In fact, you’d go as far as to say that it felt more like a palace since it was rather regal. The windows were looking straight to the black lake, with a few water creatures passing swiftly through them every now and then, it looked rather peaceful, which you wouldn’t have ever imagined the dungeons to be.

The boys, who had to actually pay attention to where they were going, and who clearly had been there before, weren’t as awed as you were, in fact, they looked a lot more on edge, as they were checking all around the common room to make sure it was empty. Still, Remus and James continued to hold the cloak tightly, to make sure it wouldn’t fall, tumble or get caught into something.

Once they were sure it was mostly empty, Remus removed the cloak from atop of you, and Sirius laid you gently on the ground. You turned back in a matter of seconds. “The boy’s dorms are to the left,” Sirius informed. “Barty’s number 15, he’s with Regulus.”

“Evan, Snape and Mulciber are on the 24th,” you said. Sirius turned to you with a frown, as if asking how you knew, you shrugged, “I got it from Minho.”

Sirius’ frown deepened “You asked him?”

“Of course I didn’t straight up ask him, It’d be too suspicious, although I’m sure Minho wouldn’t rat us out.” On purpose, you thought, after all, he had been the reason you concluded Remus was probably bi, or maybe pan.

“So how?”

“A magician never reveals her secrets,” you said with a sly smile. It really hadn’t been a particularly smart conversation that you’d had. You just mentioned that Mary was telling you about the power of numbers and that she thought our room numbers had significance. It was partially true, at least she did talk to you about the power of numbers, after divination a couple of weeks ago. You then told Minho your room number and the boys and he started sharing all of the Slytherin ones you knew.

He hummed in response, “Fine then, we split.”

“That’s the worst idea ever.”

“No, it’d be faster,” James added.

“You’ve never seen a horror movie, have you?”

Remus smiled, he understood exactly what you were referring to, and then leaned a little closer to you. “Don’t worry, you’re already hanging out with the most dangerous monster in the castle,” he joked.

You turned to him, almost a little surprised by his statement, “Who knows, maybe there are vampires hidden somewhere, or acromantulas, or basilisks, or magical armours that want to cut you in half.”

“You need to tone it down with the fantasy books Vixen,” James said with a teasing smile, “you and Sirius go to Barty’s. We’ll go to Snivellus', Peter, look out. Deal?”

You huffed, but nodded, “Keep the cloak,” you said before casting a disillusionment over yourself and Sirius. Remus, who had heard from Sirius how good your charm was, was still somewhat shocked by it. It really was almost as good as James' invisibility cloak, unless he paid really, really close attention.

“Damn she’s–“

“Really fucking good, I know!” Sirius finished. You handed a small bag to Remus, who took it as it slowly became visible.

“I’ve kept what I’ll need, use the rest,” you told him, and finally split ways. You and Sirius moved to Barty’s room.

“Alohomora,” he whispered, along with a silencing charm so the door wouldn’t creak. Four boys were soundly sleeping on each of their beds. The first one you spotted was someone you instantly recognized and you gasped, covering your mouth when you realised you had been a bit too loud.

Sirius threw you a look and walked closer, “It’s Nox,” you whispered, the muffliato you had used earlier helping you be as stealthy as possible, “from the reading club, didn’t know he was Barty’s roommate. He hangs out with Neil and Todd most of the time.”

It’s not like Srius didn’t know you had friends other than your friend group, but it was sometimes weird that you knew people in the castle he barely even recognized. “Want me to add a ward around him?”

You thought about it for a second, and nodded “We really should,” you said “I don’t want the prank to affect him…”

“What about the rest?”

You turned around, there was a silver-blond haired boy who you didn’t actually recognize, Sirius leaned closer to you and pointed at the boy, “Solacis Gaunt, he’s close to Reg and Barty,” he said as he pointed.

“Gaunt as in…?” You turned to him, in disbelief.

“Yeah…”

You bit your lip, even if this Solacis was friends with Barty and his group, he hadn’t been there that night, and you had no idea how he would have reacted, and regarding his last name, well you refused to believe that was any sign of people’s character. After all, you being who you were and Sirius being who he was, had never actually altered your actual selves… What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet, you remembered. “We’ll ward him too.”

“And Regulus?” he asked, you could see the apprehension in his voice. You turned to the boy, last time you saw him he had tried to approach you in a friendly manner and you’d blown him off. Being asleep he looked so unguarded, so little preoccupied as his chest rose up and down, you almost felt bad for the way you had treated him. But then you remembered what he had done and the anger boiled back up to your chest. He had knowingly betrayed you and Sirius, all those lost years…

You had two hex bags, you could easily slip one under his pillow as well, have him suffer the fright of his life, bring him down to desperate cries, overpowered, helpless. But Regulus had stayed on the sidelines, he had tried to stay out of your way since that time at the race when you basically told him to piss off. It was like he had been trying to make you less uncomfortable, even if it pained him, not that you knew. But you did notice that you saw him around a lot less, he avoided you, and even if he did stare at you and Sirius from the sidelines, he never even dared to accidentally cross paths. That you had noticed.

And laying there, his head resting on his pillow, his hair pulled back revealing his delicate features, he looked every bit a Black, every bit like his brother. You took a deep breath, it was in his graceful nose, in his long dark lashes, in his thin, pinky lips. All of those features that drew you to Sirius, the things that made your boyfriend as beguiling as a Siren’s call. They really are brothers, you thought. And how? How would you be able to hurt him? What he did had been years ago, and he had been a kid too, pressured by his parents. It’s not that you wanted to be friends again, but you didn’t want to cause him sorrow either. “He’ll too be warded off.”

Sirius frowned, “But after what…”

You turned to him, your dark expression clearly telling him you knew exactly what he had done, even if he could barely see it due to your spell. “He was not there that night. He didn’t do this to me,” you said, pointing to your wound, “this isn’t about some old grudge we have against him, this about Monday. This about what happened that night and the people that allowed this bastard to do it,” you said, giving Crouch a short glance “And Sirius, he is your brother.”

He swallowed, “He’s a Black.” Every bit a Black, you recalled your earlier thought. You also wondered how such a messed up gene pool could make such beautiful children.

“You are one too,” you whispered as you walked closer, “and I still, I lo- like you very much. Every bit of you,” you added in the end and pressed a few kisses to his face for good measure, perhaps he would have missed the slip of your tongue. Not that you didn’t mean it, but you wouldn’t expect Sirius to comprehend it, you’d barely been dating for a few months. “You’re still my Puppy, no matter what last name you have.”

Sirius gave you one long look and smiled when you kissed his nose, placing both hands around your face to bring your lips to his, he had heard the slip of your tongue, and it only made him want to kiss you even more. When you finally separated for air, he was the first one to speak. “I’m gonna have to kiss you again if you keep it up with the sappy stuff,” he joked.

You raised your eyebrows at that and then placed your finger over his lips, “You have a terrible habit of kissing me in the middle of stealth missions.”

“What do you mean I have the– You’re literally the one that starts it!” he added with an accusing finger.

“Yeah but you always kiss back,” you shrugged.

He gave you a diverted look as he bit his lip, and leaned in again, you leaned in as well, but he stopped right before your lips crashed against each other and smirked, “yeah, I’m not the only one who’s eager to kiss back.” You pushed his chest playfully as you narrowed your eyes at him, and then you heard Nox stir on his bed. The two of you leaned down and gave each other a look.

Both realising how stupid you had been by flirting –and making out– in the middle of the room where you were supposed to place the hex bags. You gave each other a look and almost chuckled. If Remus had been here, we would have stopped us, you thought, he’s the most reasonable of this bunch. And perhaps Remus would have, but only because he wasn’t able to join you.

When Nox finally stopped, you took a deep breath and both stood again. “Warding, I’ll place this.”

Sirius nodded and the two of you started with your tasks. You walked to Barty’s bed and smirked when you realised how easy this would be. You took a deep breath and leaned over the boy. Asleep, he didn’t look as wicked as he did on a daily basis. There was no sneer on his face and he almost looked peaceful. Not for long, you thought as you bit your lip to stop yourself from chuckling. You took a deep breath and raised his pillow slightly, placing the hex bag in its place. Then you looked at the leftover bag and decided to place it under his pillow as well. You shrugged, the more the merrier.

He instantly stirred on the bed, a small frown appearing on his face as his breath quickened. Let's see how you liked being scared, you thought and turned to Sirius. He was just finishing with his castings. He gave you a questioning look and you nodded, the two of you slid out of the bedroom as soon as possible. As you got out you spotted James and Remus just below the stairs, giving you questioning looks.

“What the hell took you so long?” James asked, “I thought there was only Barty there.”

“We had a bit of a pitfall, but we did it.” Sirius responded.

Yeah, making out is definitely a pitfall, you thought.

“We’re ready to go then?” Peter asked, he looked rather nervous.

Remus nodded, “We just have to make sure Jackdaw does his…”

At that moment, from all the different walls, ghosts started sliding in, you smiled, Richie had actually convinced them. He approached your group with a smile, “You owe them some rotten meat,” he informed.

“Rotten meat, that’s all it took? Should’ve told me sooner, I’ll take you all the rotten food you want,” you replied. He gave you a wink and flew towards the rest of the ghosts. Sirius frowned at the flirty wink from Jackdaw but didn’t say a thing.

“Job’s done kiddos,” James said, and Remus pulled the cloak out. All of you stifled inside and walked together until you were away from prying eyes. You all knew it wouldn’t be a good idea to turn into your animagus in front of the ghosts. The muggle saying “silent as the dеad” couldn’t be further from the truth.

Once you were in the hall that led to the inside of the common room, and that both Moony and Prongs made sure there was no one watching, you and Peter turned at once. Sirius picked you up and held you in his arms, while Moony adjusted the cloak to make sure it was covering everyone up and finally, you left the common room.

That’s where things went south. Just as the bricks opened themselves again someone was walking inside. The three boys took a step to the side as Slughorn walked in. The three leaned against the wall, Sirius carefully squeezed you, or Vixen, against his chest, so you occupied as little space as possible. You noticed Peter trying to distract Slughorn by walking near his feet, but he still seemed focused on walking in, the first thing he noticed was the ghosts making their own little mess, the main distraction.

Thankfully the headless hunt was not about to be deterred by one teacher, and they continued with their task as Slughorn called for help. This wasn’t meant to be now, it should’ve been later. You turned to look at the boys, they all had apprehensive stares, you could practically smell their stress as they finally unglued their backs from the wall and started walking towards the hallway. Once in the dungeons, and away from the havoc you had caused, you thought you were safe. And perhaps you would’ve been, had Evan not been coming back from the infirmary so late.

He pretty much bumped into the invisible wall that was your three friends, and all would have been fine, except for the fact that he straight-up stepped on James’ feet and he grunted in response.

“Potter?” Evan asked, instantly recognizing his voice.

Fuck.

Evan extended his hand to grab onto the front but the boys pulled back just in time. Regardless, Evan didn’t relent, “Potter I know it’s you. Either you come the fuck out or I’ll hex your stupid rat,” he said, pulling a screeching Peter out of his pocket. James swallowed and gave each Sirius and Remus a look; you tried to jump down from Sirius’s grasp, perhaps you could distract Evan by biting him while Peter escaped, but Sirius tightened his hold as you tried to squirm away. He knew what you were thinking, but he also knew Evan could just kick you out of the way, and he was not going to risk you being hurt by his hands again.

Evan pointed his long and thin wand towards Wormtail and you felt everyone tense even more. “Come on Jamesie, you wouldn’t allow me to kill your stupid rat, would you?” he added. “How much damage do you think a confringo like the one your stupid little friend used on me earlier today would cause? Hmmm… Perhaps I could use him as target practice…” Evan tilted his head, “No?” he asked again, “well then,” he added and adjusted his wand in his hand. Peter shrieked again, “We’ll see if your stupid rat ends up better or worse than your friend after the Shrieking Shack.”

To your surprise, it wasn’t James who jumped to protect Peter, but it was Sirius. He handed you over to James who barely managed to react and grab you before he left the cloak and planted his fist on Evan’s face. Peter fell from his hands and shrieked as his face crashed onto the floor just before running off.

Evan staggered back, reeling from the sheer force of Sirius’ punch but he retaliated, shoving Sirius with eager ferocity as if he had been longing for a challenge. One where he actually won. Evan was much taller and broader than Sirius, and you squirmed in James’ arms yearning to intervene but he held you firmly, casting down an impatient glance before turning his attention back to the boys.

Evan managed to land a solid on Sirius’ jaw, but the longer-haired boy didn’t even flinch, instead he used the momentum and the loss of balance from Evan to throw himself towards his opponent, effectively managing to throw the blonde on the ground. You winced as Evan turned the two of them around and started hitting Sirius’ defenceless face.

In response to the escalating violence, James panicked –handing you over to Remus who cradled you with a lot more consideration– and he too left the cloak, leaving only you and the werewolf inside. However, Sirius had already managed to turn things around, he had started to punch Evan repeatedly in the face. James lunged forward to intervene, but he got accidentally elbowed by Sirius, who, swivelling in concern, was met with another punch from Evan.

When you figured James wouldn’t be able to stop them, you started squirming again, a lot more intensely now but Remus’ hold didn’t budge. So instead you turned back, which surprised the boy only for a second as you ended up pretty much shoved against him. You were just about to leave the cloak too when you heard a voice.

“STOOOP!” Slughorn roared.

After looking at the man using his wand to pull Sirius and Evan apart, you were ready to jump out, but Remus’ strong arms tightened around you, not letting you out. You weren’t sure if it had been intentional or not, but somehow he hadn’t touched your wound while he did.

“Remus what–“ You started to complain, but he placed his hand over your mouth and started dragging you back and away from the upheaval.

You tried to fight it, but it was useless. Remus was much more stronger than you, once you were far away enough he whispered, “It’s okay, they’re okay.” You frowned, he must have felt how tense you were, because he continued talking, voice a lot more soothing now, “if I had let you out there, you would have achieved nothing other than getting punished along with them.”

You knew he was right, and yet that didn’t reduce the urge you had to bite him for talking your agency away. You jerked your shoulders in response, still angry, feeling a sharp pain in your arm that should have calmed you down, but Evan being such an ass to Peter had made you angry enough. Hitting your boyfriend in the face? You were actually considering hexing him again, intentionally this time around. You took a deep breath, you felt Remus’ hand brushing up and down over your good arm, still attempting to relieve your anger… And as much as you hated to admit it, it was distractingly relaxing.

You tried to shake him off one last time before completely relaxing into his arms. He leaned in closer to whisper again, “Remember I was telling you about not getting caught?” He asked. And waited for you to answer. His hand was still over your mouth, you raised your eyebrows at him. He gave you a look, not moving his hand away. And eventually, you just nodded. He was smart, he knew you well too, you could have screamed, you could still see Slughorn talking to Evan and the boys from where you stood.

You could have also bit him, force him to remove his hand from your face, but you had no intention of hurting Remus. Perhaps you didn’t want to get punished along them either, the more you thought about it, the more sense it made to try and stay in the sidelines and make sure the prank was completed, even if Prongs and Pads had gotten caught.

“Well, this is one of those moments in which staying behind, and in the quiet is best,” he said softly, vocalising your own thoughts. “James and Sirius are going to get detention regardless of whether you intervene or not. Trust me, I too wanted to punch Evan in the face after he said that about the Shrieking Shack but I knew it was best to hold back. I don’t think he would’ve hurt Peter.”

You wondered if Remus had seen or heard about the way his hands had dug into your skin that day in the Forbidden Forest, about the bruises Sirius later covered up with his kisses. Even then, some of the marks still fading in your skin, you didn’t think Evan would actually hurt Peter either, in fact, you weren’t even sure he had hurt you on purpose. That’s not something you would’ve said of Barty, he was completely unhinged.

Remus was still holding you flush against his body when he took a deep breath. He had felt how much more relaxed you were now, somehow his voice and his touch had gotten you to calm down.

He shouldn’t have been surprised, it wasn’t the first time it happened, but you had been so much more rilled up this time than back when the boys threw you and Sirius from your brooms that he wasn’t even sure if you’d forgive him for stopping you.

“I’m gonna take my hand away from your mouth, okay?” You nodded again, he did, and rested his forehead on your shoulder, sighing when he realised you really weren’t going to scream. “I’m sorry,” he added then, “shouldn’t have grabbed you like that.”

“It’s okay,” you said quietly, “I don’t mind it if you hold me Remus…” you mumbled. “I mean… Thank you.”

“What?!” he asked, baffled.

“You were right, it would have been stupid to join the fight. I wouldn’t have been able to do anything, I need to be more calm instead. Like I was in the library with the howler, like you. It’s just that Evan punching Sirius fucking vexed me.”

“I know…” he managed to say, me too, he thought. In fact, if you hadn’t been around, he might have actually been the person to throw punches after Sirius got the first one. Evan might have been taller and broader than your boyfriend, but he was no match against Remus, let alone if you factored in his werewolf strength.

You leaned back against him, the back of your head resting against his shoulder as you too sighed, “Does it always feel so terrible when a prank goes wrong?”

He hummed in response, “they’ll be all right, detention is just sitting in a classroom being bored or writing an essay most of the time… Don’t worry too much about them.”

“Feels bad that we’ll get out of this scots free but they won’t, though.”

“Survivors' guilt.”

You hummed, closing your eyes, “Thanks for holding me back,” you said again, “I don’t know what I’d do without you Rem.”

He stifled a laugh at that, you’d probably be more than fine without him. He, on the other hand… “Count on your good old werewolf friend to help you hold those murderous tendencies,” he joked. You actually laughed at that, and then covered your mouth with your hands, looking around.

“It’s all right, you can laugh, I cast a silencing spell,” he said, motioning to his hand with a small nod, he had his wand in a hold.

“Was that before or after you took your hand away from my mouth?” you asked. The guilty look on his face was hidden by your shoulder, but his lack of a straight answer gave him away regardless. “Dumbass, I wouldn’t have screamed, I’m not that reckless.”

“You literally left your wand on the floor with a werewolf in front of you. You ARE that reckless.”

“Well it wasn’t just any werewolf,” you said in self-defence, even if you were only digging yourself in a deeper hole. There was a comfortable silence and you sighed one last time, “We should finish up, the grand finale,” you said, finally separating from him, the lack of warmth almost made you shiver, “gotta make our boys proud, don’t we?”

He smiled, his eyes shimmering with mischief, “Let’s do it.”

Glossaire: Mo chailleachan àlainn: My beautiful fools Est-ce que ça fait de toi mon trésor?: Does that make you my treasure? Je peux être tout ce que tu veux que je sois: I can be whatever you wish me to be. Oui, mon amour: Yes my love

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

TAGLIST: @rayrlupin @callmelovergirl @warcelia @ireneop @endversewinchester @moonyunebi @smuttysluttybitch @mazzymoons @drugs-for-memes @sofiacblair @vmpir3lvr @remuslupinisbae @rabluver @willgrahamisalesbi4n @thatobsessedreader @orkwardx0 @itskailey24 @hell0-kittie @belovedmoony @blacksgarden @loving-and-dreaming @cassie-love20 @starchaser-lily @zucchini-queenie @springflwer07 @sseleniaa @cometsghost @orkwardx0 @imdoingbetternow @sbrewer21 @remuslupinsbae @maxinehufflepuffprincess @wifiatthetrainstation @unstablereader @msblacklupin @oliversaurus @jaylienpotter @remussbitch @hermionelove @izuoyarmin @themarauderswife7 @keira-kaz2y5 @lampthemacarenagod @bugg06 @a-n-1-m-3-f-r-3-4-k @darlingeels @kissmeunicornbaobei @xluansstuff @boo8008 @angelmixer @voteforintensedreams @allons-y-molly @aremuslupinsimp @imaginexred @writingshae @nyanwyn

Leve a comment telling me if you wanna be tagged on Gilded Constellations

Want to support me? Like and reblog this post (reblogs are extra nice since they help me get my work to more people), also guys, I absolutely love reading your comments, so do throw them my way if you have any!

A/N: Hey guys, this episode definetly took a little longer to post than I expected. But it's finally out! Hope you enjoy this one as much as I enjoyed writing it. How are we feeling? More cute Rem moments, right? What's gonna happen to James and Sirius though? ᕙ( ᗒᗣᗕ )ᕗ Lilly xxx

Raead more Marauders Fiction

259 notes · View notes

thatfandomslut · 4 months

Text

Regina George's Sister

Cady Heron x Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Trigger Warnings: protective relationship, secret relationship

Request:

mayhaps a cady heron x reader where reader is regina’s sister and cady and reader have been secretly dating for months because neither of them want regina to find out but then regina ends up catching them kissing or something idk im bad at requests feel free to go nuts😭😭

Mean Girls requests are open.

A/N: I could not figure out how to end this, so please forgive me.

If there was one thing anyone needed to know about Regina post-Spring Fling, it was that she didn't change much. She was just kinder to Gretchen and Karen, who still loyally followed Regina along. She still instilled fear in those around her, even if she was much nicer than she had been. Once a Queen Bee regains her crown, it's hard to repossess it. This was the prime reason Cady and (Y/n) decided to keep their relationship a secret from the blonde due to how protective she was over her younger sister. The problem was, despite being together for the past three months, they were very bad at keeping their relationship a secret.

It was Janis and Damian who were the ones to usually catch them making out under the stairwell. Which is where they found Cady and (Y/n) today, too. The two were on their way to French class, and they typically met Cady there. Which is why they weren't surprised to see them locking lips, despite their usual desire to hide from Regina. It occurred to Janis and Damian that the two were starting to get comfortable with not getting caught, so they were becoming more careless.

"You know," Janis's words startled the two of them as they jumped apart from each other. The action caused Janis to smirk as Damian snickered at the two. "If you two continue to make out one of the biggest make-out corners, Regina is definitely going to find you two. Eventually, you're not going to get saved by Damian and me. So, stop being stupid, and find a less obvious make-out spot. Come on, Cady, we're going to be late."

Damian quirked his brow nosily at the two as he looked over (Y/n) before following Janis to their class. "She's kind of right," Cady said, her cheeks a bright shade of red having been caught for the fourth time by Janis and Damian that week. "We're getting careless, and if we don't want Regina to find out, we need to start doing better." She spoke with a type of seriousness in her voice that caused (Y/n) to smile. "Why are you looking at me like that?" Cady questioned, though due to the look (Y/n) gave, she had a hint as to what (Y/n) had running through her mind.

"Oh, nothing," (Y/n) teased before placing a gentle kiss on Cady's lips. Cady reciprocated easily, almost forgetting about just getting caught, and the fact that Janis and Damian were most likely waiting on the top of the stairs for her. "I just think you're cute when you're serious about things. You puff your cheeks out and narrow your eyes slightly, and you just look so determined. Anyways, see you after class, Brainiac. I love you."

(Y/n) kissed Cady's cheek as she exited the stairwell, leaving behind a very smiley Cady to join her very annoyed best friends. "I'm sick of these shenanigans, Cady. When are you just going to tell Regina to truth? She's gotten much nicer since you overthrew her at the Spring Fling. Well, I guess, we all overthrew her." Damian pondered on this, walking into the classroom and sitting in his usual seat beside Janis. Cady had turned her seat towards her friends, who were expecting an answer from her.

"She retook the crown, remember? She has too much pride to really learn a lesson. And, even if she is nicer, you both know how she is when it comes to (Y/n)." Cady reminded the group with a raised brow. She didn't necessarily want to talk about this. Every time they got into it, it was them trying to convince Cady to come clean, but that wasn't something (Y/n) wanted. "Besides, right now, (Y/n) also doesn't want to tell Regina, and I think it's important to make sure I don't just ignore her wants. I feel the same as her, too. I'm not ready for Regina to know."

Janis rolled her eyes as the teacher entered, disrupting their conversation. It was getting harder for her and Damian to divert the Plastics away from their usual make-out spots and to make up excuses. Janis and Damian were incredibly loyal, so they weren't just going to stop helping them, but at this point, the two of them needed to buck up and just talk to Regina.

After class, Cady met with (Y/n) for their shared free period, where they went to one of their usual spots. Janis knew where they were, and that's why she almost gave herself whiplash when she saw Regina headed in that direction. "Regina, you can't go that way. I think they're going construction or something." Janis blurted, knowing her excuse was horrible, but it was the only thing to come to mind at the time. And it was obvious that Regina didn't buy it.

"Oh, sure, Janis, they're doing construction on the hallway." Regina narrowed her eyes, wondering just how stupid Janis thought she was. She couldn't help but also feel annoyed at Janis's presence since she was trying to keep her from something. "I need something from my locker."

As Regina turned the corner, her eyes widened at Cady and (Y/n) tucked in a doorway, hidden from the view of most people. It wouldn't phase her if they weren't kissing each other to the point where both she and Janis were wondering if they could breathe. "What the fuck is going on here?" Regina crossed her arms. She hated when people didn't keep her in the loop almost as much as she hated seeing her younger sister kissing one of her friends. She felt slightly betrayed by both but was willing to hear out an explanation if it was good enough.

(Y/n) pulled away from Cady in shock before looking over to the strawberry blonde. "Regina, I'm sorry. I didn't want to tell you like this…" She whispered out, looking at her shoes and rubbing her arm in disappointment. She never did well with hiding things from her sister. Cady noticed this as she placed a comforting hand on her arm. "Cady and I have been dating since the Spring Fling, we just didn't know how to tell you. Don't be mad at her, it was my decision to keep it a secret." (Y/n) explained, though the decision was mutual. She just didn't want Regina to be even more upset with Cady than she might be.

"I'm more upset that you two kept it a secret." Regina examined her sister. She always had a soft spot for (Y/n), and seeing her sister feel ashamed of herself made her feel a little bad. "I can forgive that you two kept it a secret as long as you two agree to not make out in spaces I might be in."

This was the closest to an approval that (Y/n) was going to get. Looking up with a smile, she hugged Regina happily. "Okay, deal," she said as her sister patted her back gently, narrowing her eyes at Cady briefly. The strawberry blonde looked sheepish before glancing away to avoid eye contact. Regina nodded at the fear she still instilled before releasing her sister. It was a bit weird to see them together, but it was nothing she couldn't get used to as she walked off to her locker.

"I told you two that you were going to get caught." Janis had her arms crossed with a small smirk. Saluting them gently, she turned back to return to the art studio that she was spending too much time away from.

#cady heron x reader #cady heron #mean girls x reader #mean girls

175 notes · View notes

bratzforchris · 4 months

Note

what about really soft virgin!reader sex where her and luke have been going out for a while and they’re older and she’s just never felt so strong about losing it until now after they come back from a dinner date, and he’s very soft and reassuring and they confess their love to each other in the middle of it ♥︎

Yours

❃

Summary: In which you decide to finally let Luke know how much you love him<3

Warnings: Smut, vanilla sex, missionary, making out, virgin!reader, fluffy aftercare

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: I'm am so terribly sorry for the late post, anon :) I have been going through...a lot in my personal life, as well as working on a full-length fic with lots of queer and neurodiverse rep (hint hint ;)). Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy and thank you for such a sweet prompt!

❃

You smiled, blushing and averting your eyes as Luke kissed your knuckles from across the dinner table. You two were currently out for dinner at a wonderfully luxurious French restaurant for Valentine’s Day, and Luke was making the butterflies in your stomach go wild. You’d been dating for a little over a year now, but he still made you feel like a young girl, giggling and blushing over her school crush.

“You are so beautiful,” the blond hummed, gazing at you as the candles on the table lit up his blue eyes. “How did I get so lucky?”

“More like how did I get so lucky?” You smiled softly, sipping your wine.

Luke kissed your knuckles again, taking his time to admire how beautiful you were. He knew that you were rather insecure about still dating in your late twenties while all your friends were married, but he felt so beyond lucky to have you that he felt a strong pull to make sure you really knew just how much better you made his life.

“More wine?” Luke asked you, nodding his head towards your empty glass.

“I was actually thinking that we could head back to yours?” You asked softly, blushing the whole time.

You’d recently been thinking about your life and how you felt about Luke, and realized that you wanted him on a deeper level. You knew Luke was your person, soulmate, if you would. You watched as Luke’s smile grew at what you said. He quickly called over the waiter, paying the bill, and standing up, taking your hand.

“That sounds perfect to me.” he smiled, kissing the top of your head.

One of your favorite things about Luke was how protective and loving he was. He refused to treat you as anything less than a lady, and that was evident as he held your hand through the restaurant. The evening air was chilly as you walked out of the restaurant, and Luke held you close as you walked to his Range Rover, giggling softly at how adorable he thought you were. He had never had a girlfriend that was as wonderful as you were, and he absolutely relished in the fact that he could spoil you, but you still respected him as more than a cash cow.

“God, you make it so easy to love you.” You told him, kissing his cheek as Luke started the car and helped you in.

“I’m amazing, aren’t I?” he asked with a satirical hair flip.

You giggled as Luke began to drive, leaning your head against the window as you watched the lights of downtown go by. You had recently moved in with Luke on the outskirts of LA where many celebrities and musicians lived, and getting to have this life with your boyfriend made you so eternally grateful. It was a stark contrast to how you had grown up, and even to your early 20s, but it was amazing nonetheless. Luke took care of you in the best possible ways, making sure that you were cared for not only physically and financially, but emotionally and mentally as well.

Which is why you took his hand, tugging him to the master bedroom once you two had arrived home. “I wanted to talk to you.” You hummed, sitting down on the bed.

“Is everything alright?” the blond asked, worry creasing around his blue eyes as he took off his watch.

“Yes,” Your blush deepend. “It’s just…you know I’m a virgin.”

“I do know that,” Luke walked over to where you were sitting and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Is that what you wanted to talk about? Because you know I’m okay with waiting until whenever you’re ready.” he whispered softly.

“That’s just it. I am ready.” Your eyes sparkled as you looked up at Luke.

You could see the expression on his face change from one of concern, to one of eagerness. His eyes roamed up and down your body, spending an extra bit of time at your cleavage.

“Are you sure?” Luke kissed you softly, running his thumb across your jawline. “Don’t do it for me, baby girl. Do what feels right for you.”

“I’m sure,” You nodded firmly, kissing him back. “I want to lose my virginity to you, Luke. Tonight.”

“Well in that case,” Luke chuckled, running his hands along your back and then under your shirt until they met the clasp of your bra. “May I?”

You nodded, moaning softly at the electric touch that was Luke’s warm hands on your skin. He slowly undid your bra and then pulled it off along with your shirt. The blond quickly unbuttoned his own white button-down, tossing it onto the bedroom floor.

“My gorgeous, gorgeous girl,” he whispered, trailing kisses from your lips, across your cheeks, to the sweet spot behind your ear. “Tonight is all about you.” Luke told you with a soft growl, beginning to suckle softly.

You ran your hands along his bare back, feeling the warmth seep into your own skin. The feeling of Luke leaving hickeys along your neck was alighting your nerves, making you buck your hips closer to him. You were filled with want for your boyfriend, and you were pretty sure this was the first time you’d ever felt truly horny. Your clit throbbed against the seams of your underwear in your jeans and you nearly had to cross your legs to fight the feeling.

Luke laid you back against the soft, cushiony pillows of your shared king-sized bed, straddling you and hooking his finger into the waistband of your jeans before speaking. “Is it alright if I take these off?”

You could feel the blond’s hardening cock brushing against your already sensitive crotch, and you let out a small whine. “Please.”

Luke kissed your tummy, slowly undoing the button of your jeans and sliding them down your legs. “You are so, so beautiful. I’m so honored that I get to be your first.” he whispered, planting a kiss on your lacy, pink underwear.

The blond was being extra slow and gentle, and you loved him for it. Most men would jump at taking a woman’s virginity, not even considering how she might be feeling, but not Luke. He was taking his time, worshiping every inch and curve of your body and leaving soft kisses and hickeys all over your skin. Luke pulled his phone out of his pocket and turned on a slow, romantic R&B playlist, before setting it on the nightstand and focusing on you again.

This was exactly how you had imagined losing your virginity would go, and to say it was perfect was an understatement. Luke was grinding his own hips into yours with the beat of the music, quite literally ‘making love’ to you as his soft, blond curls fell in his face. He paused for a moment to remove his own dress pants, leaving the both of you in nothing but your underwear.

“Is there something you would like me to try?” Luke asked you, his deep blue eyes looking into your own as he brushed a strand of hair from your face.

“Please, Lu. Just fuck me,” You whined out. “I’ve been waiting for this.”

Luke chuckled, kissing you as he slid your panties off. “Someone’s already losing her innocence, huh?”

You giggled and blushed, pecking his lips. “Only for you.”

Your boyfriend removed his own underwear, and you nearly gasped at the sight. You had seen Luke naked before, of course, and you’d seen him hard through his underwear, but you’d never seen what his dick looked like free from boxers while he was hard. He was huge. A part of you worried that there was no way all eight inches of him was going to fit, but at the same time, you knew Luke would take care of you.

He rolled a condom onto his throbbing cock, topping it with some lube. “Are you ready? I want to make sure you want this too.”

You nodded quickly, your walls already clenching with want for him. “Please, Luke. Do it.”

“Tell me if you need me to stop, okay? My love’s comfort is my number one concern.” Luke kissed your lips deeply again.

The blond wasn’t a virgin by any means, but he knew you were, and that made him feel extra protective over you. Luke left one last kiss on you before he slowly inserted his dick into you, practically moaning at how good you felt. You winced from the pain of suddenly being full, but slowly eased into it, enjoying the sensation.

“God. This feels…good.” You whimpered, already running your nails down your back.

Luke knew you would probably be extra sensitive, so he took his time riding you, finding just the perfect rhythm. You panted as he rode you, not used to the feeling of being so aroused. You had never gotten yourself off before, so all of this was a whole new experience. Slightly unsure of what to do with yourself, you tangled your hands in Luke’s blond curls, panting heavily.

“You doing okay, baby?” the blond asked you, beginning to ride you harder.

You gasped and whined, nodding frantically. “Oh my god, Luke.”

“You look so pretty, baby. Look like you’re about to have your first orgasm, darling.” he smirked.

You blushed under his gaze, still getting used to the feeling of him inside of you. Your lower tummy had been building up with a warm heat ever since Luke had started teasing you, and it was only getting hotter. Luke caressed every inch of your body, humming sweet nothings and leaving slight hickeys as he continued the exact same motion, knowing it would make you cum.

“You’re so wet for me, baby,” he moaned loudly. “You and your tight little cunt.”

Letting out a high-pitched squeal, you ran your nails along Luke’s back. “Please,” You whined. “Think I’m gonna cum.”

The blond railed into you one last time before speaking in a deep, sultry voice. “Go ahead, baby girl. Show me how much you like having me take your virginity.”

You gasped as your cunt suddenly clenched around Luke’s cock, your cum coating his condom-covered dick. “Oh my god,” You yelped. “Oh god, Luke. Feels so good.”

Luke chuckled as he came himself, panting heavily. “God, you're such a good girl.”

You blushed, feeling yourself tighten again at his words. You had heard of a praise kink before, and you were pretty sure that that was your thing, seeing as how your pussy was practically dripping every time Luke complimented you. Your boyfriend slowly pulled out, removing the condom and tying it up, before throwing it into the trash can beside the bed.

“Was that okay?” he asked you with a smile on his face.

You giggled, eyes glazed over from being fucked out. It wasn’t a lot, but for someone who had never had an orgasm before, you were wiped. “It was perfect.”

The blond smiled, grabbing a bottle of lotion off his nightstand and beginning to rub it across your body. Your skin was slightly red and had a few scattered bruises blooming from where his fingers had dug into your hips, and Luke wanted to make sure you felt as loved as possible. He rubbed the cream onto your skin, taking great care to treat your body with love. You had just given him a great honor, after all, and he wanted to respect that.

“You were perfect, you know that?” he hummed. “My perfect girl.”

You blushed as Luke finished, curling up next to him and pulling the sheet over your naked bodies. “That was the way I always imagined losing my virginity to go, you know?”

Luke smiled and kissed you. “I love you, darling.”

“I love you, Luke. Thank you. For everything.”

And as you two fell asleep, he knew you really meant it. You were his girl. Forever.

156 notes · View notes

foolforharrry · 1 year

Text

So Good

Word count: 2.7k

Summary: Harry and y/n's lazy Christmas morning where they're disgustingly in love

Warnings: There is a little smut in here

I hope you all have had an amazing holiday!! And that you enjoy this lil oneshot.

If you wanna check out more of my writings, my masterlist is here

Christmas has never been y/n’s favourite holiday. In fact, it’s been her least favourite holiday.

Growing up, she would hear her classmates talk about how their Christmas had been magical. Filled with love and laughter. Presents and someone dressing up as Santa Claus.

Even as they got older and realised that Santa wasn’t real, the magic of Christmas had then gone from a mysterious man delivering them presents in the dark of night to the love and laughter of all their loved ones gathered in one place.

Y/n didn’t understand why everyone else got so lucky when her holiday was filled with screaming and yelling at the top of her family’s lungs. Glasses and plates smashed against the walls. There was never a tree that they’d decorate together. Never any pretty lights hung up around the house.

The only thing that separated Christmas time in her family’s house from the rest of the year was that the fighting got worse from the alcohol the adults would consume to get through.

When y/n had opened up to Harry about why she doesn’t like the holiday that he adores so much he had vowed to do his absolute best to replace all the bad memories with happy ones.

And waking up slowly cuddled in bed with her boyfriend on Christmas morning is yet another happy memory y/n knows she’s going to cherish as she reflects on the day and evening before, face nuzzled into Harry’s warm chest.

They had spent the whole day at Anne’s. Anne has grown very fond of y/n in the almost three years she’s been with her son. So when she heard that she would finally be joining them to celebrate Christmas Eve, Anne had been over the moon with joy and hugged the girl as long as she let her when y/n and Harry had knocked on her door just before 12 o’clock.

Christmas Eve had been laughter and board games. Exchanging gifts and the small talk that louder as the day bled into the night and everyone was buzzing with the wine that was served.

It was the polar opposite of any Christmas Eve y/n had ever had in her life.

Y/n had tried to find a moment to thank Anne for opening her home to her, but every time she’d tried, Anne had waved her off saying that “My door is always open for family, dear.”

Right now, y/n feels at peace. As if she and Harry are in their own little, impenetrable bubble that she doesn’t ever want to leave. Feeling his chest rise and fall with every sleeping breath of air going in and out of his lungs as she traces the art inked into his skin exposed to the warm sunlight filtering in through the curtains.

It’s a type of serenity that she used to dream of having.

His skin has paled significantly from the Italian tan he had gotten over their long vacation in the summer, but still held a golden hue left to it.

The change in his breathing pattern is what alerts her that Harry is slowly waking up after however long she’s been in her own little world. Then a shift in his fingers splayed over the curve of her waist as she feels the vibrations in his chest before she hears his groggy morning voice rasp, “Merry Christmas, my love.”

The voice of the person she loves most in this world has a wide smile immediately forming on y/n’s face as she shifts her body so she’s laying on her stomach with her left cheek pillowed on Harry’s chest so she can look admire the beauty of a human being she’s sharing her bed with.

“Morning handsome.” Y/n smiles tiredly at him, humming in satisfaction when Harry starts drawing soft circles on the small of her back.

Harry had been planning on waking up at the ass crack of dawn today so that he could make her favourite breakfast, French toast and berries, and hot chocolate. Wake her up with loving kisses and one of her presents as they ate their meal cuddled in bed with Grey’s Anatomy, their favourite show at the time.

But when he had come to consciousness to the heavenly feeling of y/n nuzzled against his side, soft caressing touches where he knows his tattoos are, he couldn’t even bring himself to be annoyed that his plan hadn’t worked out.

Both their faces are puffy from a night’s sleep and a soft blush is spread across their cheeks from the warmth of each other’s bodies.

Without saying a word, Harry pouts his pink lips for a kiss, expectant eyes watching hers as y/n connects the dots. Y/n is happy to oblige, shifting so she is lazily straddling his waist. Hands cupping his face tenderly as she connects their lips.

Harry hums into the kiss, squeezing her sides lovingly as he sits up fully, y/n’s butt now planted firmly on his lap.

Y/n pulls away momentarily, giggling at the disgruntled downturn of his lips when Harry realises that she’s no longer kissing him. “Why’d you stop?”

“Because.”, y/n pushes him back just enough to look him in the eye when Harry dips down to kiss her again. “I wanted to ask you a question.”

He nods for her to continue.

“Did you have a good dream or are you just happy to see me?”

A coy smirk takes over the frown that was etched on Harry’s face at her question, dropping his hands to her hips. “Always happy to see my girl.”

Satisfied with her answer, y/n picks up where they left off. Almost.

There’s more intent in the way Harry swipes his tongue over her bottom lip for access and the quick pull y/n gives the curls at the back of Harry’s neck.

It quickly turns more heated. Roaming hands and a small whimper from y/n when Harry guides her hips to grind down on him, the only thing separating them being the thin cotton of their underwear.

“I need you.”, Harry breathes against her lips, his body hot all over and pupils blown from the lust rushing through his system.

Y/n can feel how hard he is and it’s only making her more aroused as she nods, going to kiss him again.

But he stops her, waiting until she is looking at him with a pout on her lips before he speaks, “Words, baby.”

“I need you too. Please.”

With that Harry rolls her off him so he’s hovering over her, y/n on her back with her head on the soft pillows, not wasting a second to pull Harry’s face down to hers, needing to taste him as she tangles her fingers in his messy curls.

After kissing like that for a bit longer, Harry moves on from her mouth and starts trailing kisses down her neck, relishing in the small whimpers and shaky breaths he pulls out from her when he leaves love bites at the spots he knows she’s extra sensitive.

He keeps sucking and licking her skin until she’s squirming and begging him to give her more.

Who is he to deny her that?

Helping her to sit up just enough, he is quick to pull her t-shirt over her head, chucking it to the side without a care about where it lands. His breath gets caught in his throat when his eyes land on her.

Almost completely naked and all his. Her breasts full and the soft rolls of her stomach he would worship every second of the day if she let him. The small, white scar just below her left collarbone. Faded enough that the only reason he knows where it is, is all the hours he’s spent admiring her.

If it had been any other person just looking at her as intensely as Harry does, y/n would’ve tried covering herself up. And at the beginning of their relationship, she had. Until she realised that there wasn’t one hint of judgement or ill-intended thought behind those green eyes she loves so much. It was pure love and adoration.

“Beautiful.”, Harry whispers. Low enough to make y/n wonder if he even meant for her to hear it.

Not that she gets a long time to when he starts kissing down the length of her torso, leaving open-mouthed, wet kisses in his wake that has a shiver going down her spine. He hooks his fingers underneath the band of her panties before he drags them down her legs and throws them in a similar manner to the shirt.

Harry lays down on his stomach between her legs as he kisses the inside of her thighs teasingly, knowing that the attention to the soft, flesh would make her even more impatient than she already is.

“Stop teasing.”, y/n whines, not caring how desperate she sounds. Or about the smug curve of his lips.

“Don’t worry darling. I’ll take care of you.”

And with that he puts y/n out of her misery, attaching his mouth to her pussy and eating her out in the way he knows will have her back arching.

Harry can’t lie and say that the fact that y/n was wet to the point where he could see the arousal leaking from her vagina without having even touched her, wasn’t a very nice stroke to his ego.

The attention to her clit already has y/n squirming, Harry’s arms wrapping around the thick of her thighs to keep her still as he hums at her taste. The vibrations intensify everything she’s already feeling, not able to keep the moans from falling anymore. And Harry definitely doesn’t mind.

All his senses are taken over by her. The taste, smell and feel of her is all there is and he would happily drown in it all.

Dizzy with pleasure, y/n’s eyelids fall heavy as she feels herself getting closer and closer to her high, vice-like grip on Harry’s hair to keep herself from flying into outer space.

Harry notices all the tell-tale signs. Her muscles tensed. Breath shallowing. Thighs squeezing the sides of his head like she’s afraid he’ll stop. That’s the last thing he wants to do. And he gets exactly what they both want.

Her high racks through her body, her whole body locking up as she comes, Harry helping her through it as she slowly but surely sinks into the mattress. Her chest still rises and falls rapidly, a shine of sweat covering her flushed skin as Harry detaches himself from her centre, pressing loving, delicate kisses along the skin. Murmured whispers of praise fill the silence as he works his way up her body.

“How’d I do?”, Harry asks her, nudging his nose against hers, a wide smile breaking out on his face when his favourite colour comes into view.

Y/n smiles lazily back at him, “So good, my love.”

Being the sucker for praise he is, Harry’s smile gets impossibly wider when she continues; “Always treat me so well. Don’t know what I’d do without my sunshine. I love you so much.” Her eyes are hazy and voice dreamy as she speaks, her head still in the clouds.

“You sure you don’t just love my tongue?”, he teases, unable to help himself.

Y/n rolls her eyes at him, pushing him off her body in fake offence, teeth digging into her bottom lip to keep from smiling too hard. “You’re a fucking idiot.”

“Only for you.”, Harry quips with a kiss to her bare shoulder, relishing in the new blush coating her cheeks.

He’ll never get sick of making his girl blush.

He’s about to say something else when her smile drops, a look of guilt rises in its wake. Confusion replacing Harry’s. “What’s wrong, beautiful?”

“You didn’t finish.”, she states, that look still there.

Relief has Harry letting out a laugh that it wasn’t anything serious. Y/n doesn’t understand why he’s laughing though. No matter how many times Harry has assured her that he’s always ok and that he just loves pleasing the woman he loves, she always wants him to feel good too.

Her question about what’s so funny to him is quickly answered when his laughter dies down and he looks at her sheepishly. “I did finish.” Cheeks red as a tomato at the confession that fell from his lips.

Stunned to silence, her eyes dart from his face to his crotch. When it fully dawns on her what he’s saying and she’s seeing, y/n can’t help the giggles bubbling in her stomach. The giggles quickly escalated to full-out cackling that earns her a playful shove when she can’t stop.

The sweet sound of her loud, bright laughter makes it extremely difficult for Harry to even be embarrassed about it anymore. It instead has him joining her. He knows it’s never ill-intended.

Once they’ve calmed down, y/n makes sure she understood him right, “You really just came in your pants eating me out?”

“Like a fucking teenager.”, Harry nods before he’s pulling her body back to his, missing the feeling of her skin on his. Y/n happily obliges, tangling her legs with his again.

They fall back into a comfortable silence as they enjoy the other’s presence and warmth for a few minutes. No words were exchanged. Just affectionate touches and hearts full and content, beating to the same rhythm.

They might not be perfect. But for each other, they’re just right.

Rain doesn’t exist without the sun. The tide wouldn’t be without the magnetic forces from the moon. The ocean wouldn’t be the same. It wouldn’t be so lively and free. So rich with life.

It might have been perfect without the chaos. But it would never have been so beautiful.

At least that’s the conclusion y/n makes wrapped up in the comfort of Harry’s embrace. Harry is her sun, her moon. He’s her calm and her storm. He’s her shelter and her sunshine. He’s everything she’s ever wanted and more than she thinks she deserves.

Harry feels the exact same way about her. Never has he ever met someone who can keep her warmth and light through her darkest days without letting them go dim and cold. In the fog, she’s his lighthouse. Always there to guide him back to safety. Home.

Before her, his world was grey and dull. Then she came along and brought all the colour and life he didn’t even know existed with her.

The love they have for each other is one that’s so painfully obvious they couldn’t even hide it if they tried.

It’s Harry who breaks the silence, a light tap on her hip to get her attention, “Wanna go get cleaned up, love?”

Without moving a muscle, she hums her agreement. “Not comfortable to lay here with your underwear soaked in cum, is it?”

“Shut up.”, Harry whines, pinching the chub of her waist, making her jolt and laugh. “Couldn’t help it. Not when you looked and sounded so incredibly sexy.” The words are spoken in a tone that has a shiver running down y/n’s spine.

Before they get too occupied again, y/n reluctantly rolls off Harry. But not before giving Harry a quick peck on the lips.

She’ll never get tired of his lips.

Harry is quick to trail after her, smiling fondly when she nearly trips over her own two feet on their journey to their shared bathroom.

While they stand under the warm stream of water together, Harry’s shower playlist echoing off the tiled walls, y/n decides that if this is how Christmas morning is going to be from now on, there’s a possibility that Christmas could become a holiday she enjoys. And it would all be thanks to him.

And she tells him just that, looking into the sea of green she loves so much as the water cascades around them. The comforting scent of the shampoo she’s used since she was a teenager. Only it didn’t make her feel any type of way until Harry started using hers, saying that it makes his hair feel soft. So now the fresh smell of coconut belongs to him.

Harry turns her around so he can lather conditioner through her hair, giving the top of her head a kiss that had y/n’s tummy swarming with butterflies. “You know.”, he starts. “I’ve always been a sucker for the holidays. But you’ve made this one a hundred times better than I thought it could ever be.”

Y/n turns back around with a bashful pull to her lips, “Ditto.”

If you guys want me to write the rest of their Christmas day, please let me know.

#harry #harry smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles masterlist #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles #one direction #fanfiction #masterlist #christmas #soft harry styles

1K notes · View notes

dreamauri · 5 months

Note

Hello! Could you do something about subMax Verstappen? // it can be anything, everything you write is perfect!!

[ I'm new to Tumblr and my first language is Portuguese so it's a little difficult to communicate, but I just wanted to make a request and let you know that you are definitely my favorite authoress of all time and app, I love your writing! ]

┇𝗢𝗙𝗙 𝗬𝗢𝗨 ┇ ︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶ ┇now that there's nothing to do, max can enjoy his time with you peacefully. ┇︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦˚₊ ┇ . 🌿 :: pairing — ( max vertsappen x girlfriend! reader ) ┇ . 🫧 :: ⁠genre — ( smut ) ┇ . 🌿 :: ⁠word count — ( 967 ) ╰ 🫧 :: ⁠ content warning — ( oral, eating food off each other, unprotected ╰ sex [which is bad! and a big nono!!] )

★ ☆ love you lili <3 you're my favourite fan all the way ━━━━━━

( main master list | more of max verstappen ) ( requests )

"Baby, come lie with me." The loud whine sounded through the apartment. You couldn't help the smile that curled on your lips as you pulled out left over cake from the fridge. "one second, Maxie." You called back, opening the drawer to look for a spoon. "forget utensils, I'll just eat it of you." You laughed at his reply, eventually going back to the living room.

Max's eyes never left your bare body, pulling you from your hips onto his own, very much naked lap. "What did I do to deserve such an angel? Hm?" He hummed, head dipping to kiss the soft skin of your neck and shoulders. You giggled, pushing him away gently. "I'm tryna watch the game." "Yes, because being naked is a good idea." He pulled you back on his lap when you tried to get up.

he looked up at you with a soft smile, a gaze full of admiration as he looked in your eyes. You leaned down, connecting your lips with his in a small peck. You were able to snuggle up to each other, enjoying the silence and the quiet chatter coming from the tv. You moved so max could lay on his back and you on top, only then did you actually reach for the Tupperware with that contained frosted cake.

Max watched as you swiped up some frosting and wiped it off on his nose before licking it off. Max crossed his eyes to watch you, actually blushing at the fact you went through with his suggestion. He watched as you put wiped cream on his lips, quickly welcoming your tongue in his mouth. A moan sounded as you kissed and nibbled every inch of his skin from his neck to his abdomen, watching you put a piece of the desert before licking it off and kissing his body.

By the time you reached his happy trail you were out of cake and Max was winey, watching you attentively for your next step. A loud grunt left his mouth, closing his eyes feeling the warmth of your mouth wrap around him. "You feel so good, shatje." [darling]. It didn't take too long for him to get all panty and whiney. With the way you bobbed your head licked him whole, he was done pretty quick.

Max watched you climb back over him, leaning up to connect a kiss half way. A surprised moan left his mouth as he felt you aligne yourself with him. He was quick to hold your hips and guide you, looking up at you needily with those big blue eyes of his. You smiled into the kiss, slowly sinking down.

Max immediately felt at home, closing his eyes and hanging his head back happily, a small laugh coming through him. He leaned back on his forearms, looking at where you connected and you leaned your arms on his tummy, holding yourself up as you started to bounce back and forth.

"Fuck, Lifje." [love] Max squeezed his eyes shut, letting his mouth hand open. "you are so . . . so perfect." his voice ended in a high pitch from the pleasure. "you fit me, so well." you chuckled at his comment, leaning in and french kissing him. Max of course was quick to cup the back of your head and kiss you back, he's never miss an opportunity. And when you pulled away, a string of saliva connected you. Max could still taste the vanilla flavouring and the residue from his orgasm.

You stuck your tongue out at him, giggling, pulling away quickly when he tried to kiss you again. "Please, baby. Please please." He held your hand and waist trying to pull you close, even sitting up in an attempt to catch your lips but the position you were in was giving him no advantage. "Tell you what," You chuckled, looking at in desperate blues. "There's trimasu in the fridge." your voice trailed off and max got the hint, gently pulling away and jogging to the kitchen. He had you laughing, it was a true sight to see.

He was back soon enough with the boxy, ripping it open and settling back in the couch with you. You couldn't stop laughing all the way through as he adjusted you to lay on your back. The blond was quick to lay between your legs, setting the first piece from the Italian delicacy on your thigh before licking it off. giggles turned into moans, and soon enough you were feeling your heart racing and max sucking and licking off your clit while his fingers pumped into you.

"Good boy. K–keep going." You praised on and on and max swallowed every bit, his hand gently rubbing the iside of your thighs as he held them apart. And when your orgasm came, he fingered you through, it pressing kisses to your tummy and thighs.

"One more round, please please," Max got up, finally kissing you like he wanted to. All sloppy and passionate and messy. He loved sharing every inch of himself with you. In fact, he believed that at this point he was made to love and worship you because no one was perfect for him as much you. "Only if you stop wearing that big bow tie at the prize giving galas." "deal." he nodded quickly.

You felt your self chuckle at the way he agreed so quickly. You broke a piece from the trimasu, taking a bite and offering max. "I'd rather eat it of you." He chuckled sheepishly. "What a dork." You giggled pulling him in for a long kiss and what also turned out to be a long, long night; which max under you more than half of the time, moaning your name and pressing his hands onto the plush skin of your stomach.

257 notes · View notes

imaginaryf1shots · 8 months

Text

My Girls (V) | Max Verstappen

Words count: 2K

Driver!oc X Max Verstappen

Platonic!Driver!oc X the grid

Summery: Cecilia Hansson daughter of a Swedish billionaire, a race car driver, with a dream of making it big in Formula 1. However she has a few secrets that may hurt her as women are disliked in the sport.

Series Warnings: google translated french, dutch, cursing, child abandment, absent father, drinking, car accidents, Jos Verstappen, misogyny, Christian horner (tell me if i missed anything)

Couldn't sleep so here we go...

This is a secondary blog so I won't be able to respond but I'm adding you all.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Previous || Next

Nosy friends and lunch

“What?” Cecilia answered the call request coming from discord, her friends have been spamming her with texts and facetime and she hasn’t accepted any calls or replied to any texts, thank you Charles Leclerc for being a snitch.

“Finally!” Lando was the first to speak, Cecilia didn’t even look at the phone, she continued getting ready, it’s still lockdown she wasn’t leaving to meet Max for once… he was coming over for the first time, they’ve been meeting regularly(at least three times a week) for the last couple of months. At times she’d go after Nathalie fell asleep, she hadn’t taken Nattie with her to Max’s since that day, but she had been talking to him on the phone, like she does with Charles and her other uncles. It was cute how her daughter would talk with Charles in almost all French and with Max in almost all English. Her daughter is growing up like her and her brother, but that’s besides the point.

“What do you guys need? I’m busy.”

“We can see, so who is coming over?” Hearing Pierre’s voice made her glance at the phone to see who was actually in the call, of course her friends from karting plus Lando.

“Oh my god! You all are so nosy, how did you find out anyway?” She asked knowing that she hasn’t said anything, not even to Charles.

“I may have talked to your mum.” Charles confessed with a proud smile.

“You should be scared Charlotte! That’s creepy behaviour!” Cecilia shouted through the phone knowing that his girlfriend is sitting next to him, she heard her laugh. “Why did I give you my mum’s number again.”

“Don’t try to change the subject Cecilia, when were you going to tell us?” Alex asked, he looked comfy, sitting back on his sofa with a smoothie or juice or something sipping from a straw. In fact they all looked like they were sitting for a gossip session.

“Tell you what? There’s nothing to tell.”

“Why are you putting makeup on then?” Pierre asked, itching for new gossip.

“It’s just the basic stuff.” Cecilia said, shrugging still continuing with her makeup.

“What did I miss?” George asked, joining the call, Cecilia wanted to pull her hair and block all her friends.

“Little miss secrets here, is getting ready for a date with Max.” Lando told his fellow brit.

“It’s not a date, he’s meeting my parents.” Cecilia said before she could think and sighed, they all howled with laughter.

“You’re already meeting the parents.” Charles said laughing, it was all in good fun, and things have been boring since covid started.

“You all met my parents before, each and everyone of you.” Cecilia said and pointed at them. “You know what, I’m blocking you all.”

With that she ended the call to finish getting ready in peace, they got on her nerves sometimes. She needs more females in her life.

“I just got here.” George groaned.

“You don’t think she’ll actually do it, do you?” Alex asked, suddenly concerned.

“I don’t think so.”

“Me neither.” Charles and Lando comforted the others, they just sat there for a while contemplating the duo, and how they thought things would turn out to be like. Charles knew your mother would tell him if he asked.

Cecilia finished getting ready and went to help her mum with the last of the food, Cecilia really wasn’t dressed up, she just had light makeup and a sundress, it was getting warmer now, and they were eating out on the terrace. Seeing her mum in a dress Nattie also wanted to change into a dress as well.

“Go help her, your dad and I will finish here.” her mum said and patted her back, Cecilia took Nattie to her room and made her choose the dress she wanted, midway she heard the doorbell ring, and she knew Max had arrived.

Max was greeted by your dad, he of course saw him before, but it was always from afar they never talked. “Nice to meet you sir.”

“You too, come in please.” Max was led inside he glanced around, this is the house you grew up and lived your whole life in, the penthouse is bigger than the apartment he lives in, for one he rents they own, this one is two stories with apparently a gym. But it felt lived in, from what Cecilia told him is that her dad’s family had generational wealth, but her mum came from a humble bringing, so yes they had the best things in life, but her mum made them know how lucky and privileged they were. As teens they had to work to earn their money, and learn to do things on their own, they never had a nanny or a chef, someone did come in to clean twice a week, so they did their chores, their mum really wanted them to grow up as normal as she could when your dad is a billionaire.

“I didn’t know what to bring.” Max said and handed her dad a couple of wine bottles, he had ordered online. Looking at her dad, he saw a lot of him in Cecilia and in turn Nathalie, all their colours are her dad, her lips and nose being the only thing he couldn’t place on him.

“You didn’t need to bring anything, but we’ll enjoy it I’m sure.” Cecilia’s dad led him inside to the living room, not the formal one for guests, the one they hosted their friends and family in, the walls were all mostly glass with doors leading to the big terrace. “Cecilia is changing Nattie, the girl took one look at her mum in a dress and suddenly she wants to wear one too.”

“Max! Hello.” Cecilia’s mum walked up with open arms greeting the man, Max had just sat down, stood up quickly just as he was pulled in a motherly hug, she kissed his cheeks like the french one on each side before she pulled back.

“Nice to meet your Mrs. Hansson.” Max greeted the smiley woman, and he knew where you took your lips and nose from, the perfect blend between your parents.

“Please call me Adeline.” She waved his formalities off. “I saw you grow up with Cecilia, sorry I look like a mess.”

“No, no you don’t… Do you need some help.” Max offered, he could smell the food already coming from the kitchen.

“Nonsense, sit down and talk with Börje, I’m almost done.” With that she gracefully left, sitting back down he faced Cecilia’s dad.

“Cecilia told us you’re quarenting alone.” Börje said and Max nodded, they talked a little about what he was doing since lockdown started, her dad shared how hard it was to run a business from home, especially since HQ was in sweden.

“Pappa, don’t bore him with your work.” Cecilia called to her dad as Nattie ran in the room to her grand-père before she saw Max and turned to run to him, Max caught the girl and pulled her up on the sofa beside him.

“He’s not bored.” Her dad said acting hurt by her words after rolling his eyes. “I’m not boring you Max am I?”

“No, not at all.” Shaking her head at him, MAx greeted her daughter, before he stood up and gave her a small hug.

“In that case, take care of my child while I help maman.” Cecilia said and turned to her dad. “Can you set the table?”

“Sure thing Älskling.” (Darling) Her dad said and the men moved out to the terrace, there was a cabinet there with a sink and everything for when they had BBQs out there, it was filled with plates and cutlery. Once again Nathalie wanted to help so Max had her placing the spoons and forks in their place. If your dad had doubts about Max before they’re starting to disappear now. He saw Max like the public saw him, only what he presented, and to be honest he doesn’t like Jos but seeing how he talked with Nattie, his instincts as a father were calm.

After they were done with the table, the men found themselves by the railing, Max was looking at the view, glancing at the girl who was swinging on the small playground set, her granddad had installed for her.

“Cecilia might kill me for saying this but, when she was pregnant she used to watch a lot of your races.” Börje told the driver he was amused thinking about it now, because if he thinks too deeply all he feels is rage and sadness, an overwhelming feeling of sadness.

“Did she?” Max asked and turned to copy Cecilia’s dad’s stance, they leaned back on the railing, this is news to him.

“Yeah, she’d say how she wanted to do that, she’d dream of getting in F1. Did you know that Ferrari were in talks with her in 2016 about maybe signing her and having her as a reserve driver.” Max looked surprised at the news, Cecilia got pregnant during negotiations and her lawyer(dad’s lawyers) got her out of the deal with smooth talks and ended things on a good note for future possibilities. “Right when she got pregnant, it took a lot for her to decide what to do. She was glowing when she held Nattie and told us she wanted to get back into racing.”

“She’s lucky she had you supporting her, not many parents would.” Max spoke the truth, wealthy or not, not many parents would have their adult children’s backs like that.

“She’s my girl, even if she’s an adult with a daughter of her own, that's my baby girl.” Börje said, before Max called for Nattie to be careful, right before Börje was about to, the girl took to swinging and then jumping. The set was on a type of foam mat but she could still hurt herself. “Cecilia has always been honest with us, and I can see that you care, not many men would get in a relationship with a woman who has a child, but like I told you, that’s my little girl and I don’t want to see her heartbroken.”

“She won’t I promise.” Max promised his eyes and tone telling the truth, Börje smiled and patted his back.

“Max, can you help Cecilia bring out the food?” Adeline asked coming out with the salad, when Börje moved to also help she gave him a look, happily married for 30 years now, made him understand her with only a look.

When Max walked in the kitchen he was met with Cecilia taking a baking dish out of the oven before she sat it on the counter. “Need help?”

“Huh, yeah. Mum made so much food you’d think she’s feeding an army.” Cecilia said and looked at all the food sitting in trays and serving dishes, the quantity wasn’t a lot but she made a lot of options. “We'll all be eating this for days to come.”

Max came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, she smiled and turned her head kissing his cheek. “Haven’t been able to say hi properly.”

“Sorry about that.” She turned in his arms and hugged him around the neck, his arms around her waist, they stood there for a moment before they pulled back, as much as Max wanted to kiss her lips, they’re at your parent’s house and they’re here, so out of respect for them he kissed her forehead before he pulled away and they started bringing the food out, on the last trip she got a bottle of chilled white wine and room temp red one(one of the ones Max brought) along with a wine looking glass that had juice for the little princess.

Max and Cecilia sat across from her parents with Nattie between her mum and her boyfriend to be(?). They didn’t want to label it, but they are kind of in a relationship. If you spend time with a man, occasionally kiss said man, talk to said man at all hours of the day and night, go to his house three times a week so you’d spend time together doesn’t that mean you’re dating? Please someone tell Cecilia to make a move already.

Max turned up his charm for the day, he had her parents laughing and engaging in all sorts of conversation, he complimented the cooking, the house, he even managed to talk business with her dad. All points for him in their book. Hearing Cecilia laugh with a man like she hasn’t in over four years made the points easy to give. With eyes that only parents had, they watched how when she laughed as she leaned towards him, her arm falling on his shoulder even with Nattie between them it all looked natural, a family in the making.

Ceciliahansson15

Comments disabled

Ceciliahansson15

liked by Carlossainz55, maxverstappen1, Pierregasly and 2,197,009 others

ceciliahansson15 A little wine never hurt anybody

view all 86,984 comments

username1 on my knees🧎‍♀️

username2 who got you those flowers 🤔

charles_leclerc 👀

georgerussell63 👀

ceciliahansson15 grow up!! 🙄😒

username3 what do you know???

username4 soft launch

alex_albon can I be invited the next time I'm in Monaco 👉👈

ceciliahansson15 literarly my mum invites half the grid over everytime! you chose not to come last year

alex_albon I WAS TIRED! I'M SORRY

ceciliahansson15 it's okay it was only a couple of us last year anyways 🤷‍♀️

username8 i wanna be invited 🥺

username5 is she soft launching? or is she just aesthetic🤔

username6 why not aesthetic and soft launching

username5 like the way you think 👍

username7 I lover her insta so much so pleasing to look at

Next->

Taglist:

@luciaexcorvus . @vellicora . @tpwkstiles . @belennasif . @eugene-emt-roe . @fanboyluvr . @fangirl125reader , @christianpulisic10 . @belennasif . @itsjustkhaos .

#f1 x reader #my girls #f1 imagine #max verstappen #f1 scenario #f1dr #max verstappen one shot #f1 x driver!reader #max verstappen imagine #f1 fanfic #max verstappen x oc

250 notes · View notes