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arieslost · 13 days

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reader and little leclerc meeting at a karting comp when they were tiny and growing up charles developed the fattest crush on the reader but only later in his f1 career does she find out. not from charles himself but from carlos who ‘accidentally’ slips up and mentions it

i’m assuming by little leclerc u meant arthur so i hope i was correct 🤞🏼🤞🏼

crush | cl16

you always thought charles leclerc had some sort of underlying hatred for you, even though he was nothing but kind to you every time you interacted. maybe it was the way he’d always look at you with what you could only describe as a pained expression, like it hurt to even be in your presence.

not that he had much choice, considering you’d been racing with his brother arthur since the beginning of time.

it never evolved into a career for you, but having formed such a close bond with arthur, as well as the rest of the leclercs, you stuck around. you remained a close friend even after arthur was promoted to single seater racing and you never left karting, not until their father passed and you dedicated all of your time and effort to comforting the family and helping however you could. eventually, that evolved into you working for ferrari in pr and other various communications a year after charles signed to ferrari.

wherever a leclerc was, you were bound to follow.

which leads you to now, having landed in imola a few days before most of the team (including the drivers) to coordinate interviews, filming, photography… the list is endless sometimes, but you love your job. even more so when you’re given the privilege of briefing the drivers on what to expect for the day.

except for the fact that charles comes in and sits down without sparing you so much as a fleeting glance.

that’s how your suspicions had started— when he stopped looking you in the eye. it used to be you who was intimidated by eye contact, those green eyes of his never failing to make your cheeks heat up. but eventually you got over it, and one day you fixed him with a brave stare that left him unable to mask his surprise. and then he stopped looking at you. then the incoherent mumbling started, then the abrupt “i have to go” in the middle of a conversation. you never understood why he was acting the way he was. you still don’t.

“good morning, querida,” carlos greets you smoothly as he enters the room, and you swear you see charles’ brows furrow for a split second.

“good morning,” you smile at him, chancing a look at charles, who is still deeply engrossed in whatever’s on his phone. “there’s a decent amount of things i want to go over with you guys, so i really need you to pay attention.”

you went through the itinerary, pausing every now and then to make sure both drivers were paying attention. charles had shut off his phone, but he was still looking anywhere else but at you. when you caught his eye upon glancing upwards, he looked down at his lap like you had told him he massively screwed something up.

you’ve often thought about confronting him, but to be honest, you could never really come up with a solid reason to do so. if he didn’t want to look at you, that was more his problem than it was yours.

“okay, i think that’s all i have for—” you’re not even finished with your sentence before charles is uttering a hasty “thanks” and rushing out the door.

“you’d think he would’ve caved and told you by now,” carlos muses when the door clicks shut, shaking his head.

“told me what?”

“you know,” carlos begins, rising from his seat, “that he’s madly in love with you.”

“what?!” you exclaim.

“oh, dear,” he continues dryly. “did i say that out loud?”

“carlos sainz, so help me—”

“you’ll have to excuse me, i don’t want to be late to the media pen,” he interrupts, making to leave as well. “i suggest confronting him, that’s probably the only way to get him to talk.”

your opportunity comes after the free practice sessions the next day, where you manage to corner charles as he’s leaving his driver room.

“is it true? do you—” you want to say love me, but the words just won’t come out. they feel too intimate. “do you have feelings for me, charles?”

he opens his mouth, but you don’t give him the chance to respond. “you won’t look at me, you barely talk to me anymore, and it feels like you hate me. so honestly, just tell me anything other than saying you hate me.”

“i don’t hate you,” he says immediately. “not at all— why don’t you come in so we can talk? i don’t want to have this conversation knowing someone with a camera could come around the corner.”

fair point. you allow him to guide you into his driver room, watching as he shuts the door behind him.

“who told you?” he asks.

“carlos. in a weird, unnecessarily cryptic way.”

“classic carlos,” charles huffs, raking a hand through his hair.

“is it true?” you repeat quietly, beginning to fear his answer.

he looks at you. “what if it was?”

“charles—”

he interrupts you now. “i can’t look at you because every time i do i think about how much i want you. i look at you and i wish more than anything that i could hold you, kiss you, make you laugh. things just haven’t been the same since… since papa.”

you reach for his hand, squeezing it tightly in your own.

“and eventually i just couldn’t talk to you, because if i did, everything i want to say would come out… like it is right now,” he smiles shyly.

you never thought you could make charles leclerc shy.

“anyway, i like you. a lot.” he declares, taking on a confident tone. “i’ve had a crush on you for a while, and i’m sorry that it manifested as something else. i don’t expect you to forgive me.”

“maybe…” you begin slowly, watching his eyes light up. “maybe you could take me out.”

he smiles widely, squeezing your hand. “i think i can make that happen.”

“good. i’ll be waiting for your call.” you lean up, pressing a brave kiss to his cheek before exiting the room.

the blush creeping over his cheeks stays imprinted on your mind for the rest of the day. it won’t be the last time you see him that way.

word count: 1,041

masterlist — join my tag list here!

note: this was such a cute request. i hate the ending (when do i not, honestly) so if this flops it’s fully my fault

my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!

reblogs are greatly appreciated <33

dividers by @/saradika

tags: @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @sweatrevenge5436-blog @kimis-gloves @mia-rrrs @decafmickey @customsbyjcg-blog @bigheartsthings @tania2748 @scuderiadevils @iloveyou3000morgan @ctrlyomomma @hiireadstuff @daemyratwst @arian-directioner @evelyn-ny @avg-golden-retriever @likedbygaslyy @vintagefucksstuff @piastorys @jisungstuff @personwhoisther @bernelflo @ahgase99 @ferrarisfailedstrats @levidazai @brune77e @watersquirtpewpewboomm

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monamipencil · 1 month

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svt reactions to you tripping publicly and embarrassing yourself? :3 i feel like it'd be really funny, can already imagine woozi pretending like he doesn't know you and speed walking away😭

lmfao- thanks for this lol,

seungcheol — this guy is so protective that he'll fight floors for you. so if he's beside you, he'll catch you before you fall. and in case you do fall, immediately helps you and hugs you to ease the embarrassment. but would laugh later lol.

jeonghan — he laughs and is worried for you at the same time. he just goes "aigo aigo aigo," all while laughing. he helps you up, and checks for any wounds before he starts laughing but if someone judges you, he'd shoot daggers with his eyes.

joshua — such a gentleman. helps you up, sits you down somewhere and checks if you are hurt. he does not care about other especially if you seem hurt. but if you are not hurt, he'll laugh, shaking his head. would definitely bring this up in future.

jun — initially shocked. then, you are not escaping his teasing. forever. even says about it to your future children. you'd start laughing along with him, so it isn't that embarrassing anymore. helps you up while laughing his ass. you both can't look at each other without bursting into laughter. asks if you are hurt, 2 hours later.

soonyoung — so worried. instantly lifts you up and checks if you're hurt. he stifles any laughter cause he doesn't wanna embarrass you further lol. just comforts you over some food or drink. but if you laugh, he would too. he also would fall to make you feel better 😭😭

wonwoo — so confused. one moment you were walking with him, the other you're on the floor. like now, what are you doing on the floor? helps you up with a small smile. tries to go on after knowing you're not hurt, but you're too embarrassed. he lets you hide your face into his arm and kisses your forehead, telling you that it's fine.

jihoon — lmfao, you're so right anon. he gets embarrassed for you and probably considers walking away. but well, you're the love of his life and he doesn't frankly care about others. helps you up with a big smile and then comforts you. he acts like he's disowning you, just to tease you lol.

minghao — gets worried when you trip and fall. is by your side, instantly, helping you up. then he checks what you tripped on. nothing. you tripped on air. gives you judgy eyes before snorting a little. he doesn't care about others, and he's just worried about you endangering yourself. then he hugs you after a scolding sesh <3

mingyu — he's probably the one that tripped you by accident. intentionally trips too, falling by your side. so that you're not embarrassed. loves you too much to not share your pain or embarrassment. you start laughing and he does too. and everyone thinks you both are crazy. but hey who cares? you're both in love. and that's what matters.

seokmin — poor baby is so alarmed. drops everything to help you up and makes sure you're not hurt. hugs you and laughs after knowing you tripped on nothing. also one to pretend to fall to ease your shame. you cannot convince me that he won't bring out his musical actor side. helps you up in his arthur façade. "are you hurt, my queen?"

seungkwan — laughs before anything else. brings out his nagging mother side after. helps you up while scolding and lightly hits your head. laughs and coos if you hide yourself in his embrace cause he adores you. but turns this into blackmail material if you ever say smthn against him lol. "oh yea? remember the time you tripped on air?"

vernon — doesn't even notice that you tripped and fell. too busy in his own world and probably walks away, unintentionally which makes everything more embarrassing 😭😭 but when he notices you, he's like "why are you on the floor?" he just helps you up, not even noticing those people staring. would not know till you said that you fell.

chan — could give less fucks about others. another one to drop everything and help you. even suggests piggy-backing you if you're hurt. kisses your knees or wherever it hurts and rubs the spot. lovingly nags you and laughs a little, noticing your embarrassment. reassures you that it's fine.

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vivwritesfics · 3 months

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Hey you were looking for a polyfic so here you go!

LanOscar or Lando x Max

(Idk if you write smut but the if you do you can encourparate it into this plot)

Plot: The reader becomes pregnant after a wild night (shall we say) and between the two boys they are convinced that it's their child. But when the baby is born it is one of the drivers from the ship above (I don't mind which one either driver of any ship is fine) and they are proud of it, and the other driver is slightly jealous that it isn't his. But he grows to love the child as the months pass and the reader says how the next child that is put in her is his.

I really don't know if this makes sense upon which I do apologise.

Hope your Well <3

Gonna do norstappen bc I got a landoscar one coming

It was meant to be a threesome, a one night experience, not a throuple. But they worked together, so it was pretty hard to stay away

Whether it was lingering gazes and touches, or moments spent too long in each others presence without much explanation.

But this only lasted a few weeks, a month at most, before came the dreaded pregnancy test.

It was bought in a moment of anxiety. Her period was only late by a day and she had no other symptoms of pregnancy, but she was so worried that she ran to the store and bought one that afternoon.

She didn't tell the boys. Why should she when she's definitely not pregnant? But she wasn't definitely not pregnant.

The two lines stared back at her. Fuck, she really was pregnant. Holy fuck she was going to throw up.

As soon as she was done throwing up, she grabbed her phone and sent a picture of the pregnancy test to the groupchat she had with Max and Lando.

They rushed straight over. Thank god they all resided in Monaco. It was just one of the perks of being drivers, she supposed. Well, not that she'd be driving at the minute.

Her thoughts started spiralling down the path of who would be driving the Ferrari alongside Charles Leclerc in her place. She would have loved to see Arthur Leclerc drive alongside his brother, bit Ollie Bearman was an incredibly talented candidate, too.

It was only when Max and Lando knocked on her door that she snapped out of it. They wore grins on their faces as she pulled the door open. "So," Lando began, his boyish smile playing on his lips. "Who's is it?"

She rolled her eyes and let them into her apartment. "Does it matter?" She asked and Max shook his head, but Lando nodded.

Of course he did. There was nothing simple about Lando Norris. "Yeah, because whoever isn't the dad gets the next go, right?"

Her eyes went wide at that suggestion. "Jeez Lando, we haven't even had the first yet," she said as she sat on the sofa beside Max.

He instantly pulled her into his body and kissed the top of her head. "We'll be with you every step of the way," he said and she turned to kiss him properly.

And they were with her every step of the way. They were with her when she told her team principl and they were there when her absence was announced on social media (along with the announcement of the promising young F2 driver that would be her stand in). Of course, the media weren't told why she was missing the races for the year, just that it was medical.

They were there when her bump started to show, there to buy her maternity clothes. They were there for the late night cravings and for the emotional breakdowns over things she later thought to be insignificant.

They were there to set up a room for the baby, decorated with race cars, of course. "Project Hamilton," she had jokes as they painted a track onto the wall.

When the baby was born, they got a paternity test. Just to find out if the baby would be predisposed to any conditions of any kid. The only condition he was predisposed to was being part Dutch.

As soon as the results came that he was Max's son, Lando was pouty as all hell. He didn't want it to affect the way he loved this child, tried so hard not to let it, but he couldn't help it.

Max constantly reminded Lando that he was just his son, he was Lando's son, too. The four of them were one big family, didn't matter who was really the father.

It took some time, and some forced bonding from her and Max, but Lando came to love their son as if they were blood.

But he was still convinced it was his job to knock her up next. He was a man obsessed. As soon as he could he had her on the bed with her ankles in the air.

Max hadn't touched her pussy in weeks. He wasn't allowed to, not unless he wanted to get jumped by Lando.

But, sure enough, another positive pregnancy test sat on the bathroom sink. Lando Norris was a smug little shit, because this one was definitely his.

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johnpriceslamb · 1 month

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𝓽 𝓱 𝓻 𝓮 𝓪 𝓭 𝓮 𝓭 𝓮 𝓵 𝓮 𝓰 𝓪 𝓷 𝓬 𝓮

🪡 Before you joined the gang, you used to be a tailor. An event was coming up soon which involved looking fancy, meaning that you had to take his measurements for a new suit.

𝓑𝓔𝓕𝓞𝓡𝓔 𝓨𝓞𝓤 𝓟𝓡𝓞𝓒𝓔𝓔𝓓 ! ⋆ female ! reader ⋆ hyper-feminine ! reader ⋆ very suggestive content w/ javier ⋆ close proximity ⋆ reader is mentioned to be physically smaller than said chars ⋆ poorly google translates spanish >.> ⋆ not proof read nor edited ⋆ wrd count/1.2k

🪡 arthur morgan ⋆ charles smith ⋆ john marston ⋆ javier escuella (sep) x f! reader

🪡 𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓱𝓾𝓻 𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓰𝓪𝓷,

“stand still!”

You prattle on for the umpteenth time this evening. The loyal enforcer of the gang grunts at the feeling of the cold tape measure wrapped around his bare waist, as he begrudgingly lifts his arms up to avoid messing up the measurements.

“For someone so little,” He groans at the feeling of the flexible measure tightening deliberately around him, “You sure do have a lot of attitude.”

You ignore him, of course. You scribble down the exact number of his measurement down on a piece of paper with a slight hum. The beads of your delicate necklace hang delicately off your neck as you bend over the edge of the table a bit, elbows propping your demure head for support. Arthur couldn’t help but boredly take a peak of what you were writing down, before ultimately sighing as he hopes for this to go a little quicker.

the cigar in his mouth hangs low on his bottom lip, embers flying out from the tip. He takes another slow drag, before letting it out with a gentle sigh- to your direction. You throw the man a puffed-cheek glare, your little nose scrunching up at the smell.

He wouldn’t admit the fact that he felt warm when your fingers would touch his body so subtly when measuring him. Or when your face was so close to his ragged skin, he could really feel your soft breath. Did you always look that pretty when you’re concentrated?

“Hey, Arthur?” That familiar high-pitched voice catches his attention. His hands lazily grab ahold of his low-hung belt, before leaning in.

“Mh?” He lowly grunts, squinting his eyes at the sight of your beady eyes staring up at him. He chews at the end of his cigarette, letting out a huff when the smoke unexpectedly enters inside his body.

You cheekily smile, tinkering your dewy lashes at him to feign innocence. The pencil in your grip is tapped multiple times on the paper, “Wouldn’t pink be a suitable colour choice for your suit?”

“[name].” You’re lucky you were blessed with a cute little face, otherwise he’d have no issue throwing you in the lake nearby.

🪡 𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓵𝓮𝓼 𝓼𝓶𝓲𝓽𝓱,

“..I’m not familiar with getting measured, I apologise if I make anything difficult.” Charles quietly explains to you in that baritone voice he had. You can’t help that sweet fluttering in your chest at the apology.

“Nonsense!” You wave him off with a toothy smile, “All you’ll have to do is stand still.”

The gentle giant in-front of you slowly nods. He’s not uncomfortable, but he’s kind of on the edge since this was new to him. But since it’s you, he can feel some of the tension in him melt. Usually, he tends to avoid interacting with other people at camp.

But you? Something about you made him draw closer.

“Just a matter of standing still? I think I can manage with that. No trouble with me.” A ghost of a smile slowly etches onto his dark skin at your expression. Almost.. puppy like.

You’re about to measure his full height to ensure the exact proportions of the suit are balanced, only to realise..

Your height (lack thereof.. oops.) comes in as a bit of an issue here. For plot purposes, there aren’t any stools around nor could you go on your tippy toes to measure him fully.

“..Ah.” Charles blinks at the situation. Amusement crosses his face, before gesturing to hand over the end of the measuring tape. He holds it just at his head, patiently watching you peak at the number it falls down to at his ankles.

“Oh my..” You let out a tiny squeak at the number, a shy smile appearing on your sweet face before scribbling it down on a piece of paper nearby.

“Oh my?” He repeats you, “What? Is that.. Is that bad?”

“No, no!” You stammer, meekly brushing your hands over your light pink petticoat, “You’re just.. Y’know. You’re tall.”

“Oh?” He smiles lightly, lovingly looking at your light expression, “I hope that won’t be too much of a problem.”

“It’s not a problem. Quite the opposite, actually.” You quietly mumble the last part. Oh dear, you can feel his gaze, practically warming up your soul, staring at you as if you hung the stars. You feel your cheeks heating up.

“Pardon?”

“Nothing!”

🪡 𝓳𝓸𝓱𝓷 𝓶𝓪𝓻𝓼𝓽𝓸𝓷,

never in your life have you wanted to smack a man in the face so badly.

“Woah,” John grins like a newly wet dog from running through a puddle, “Y’here to take my measurements or to feel me up?”

All you did was just wrap the tape around the swell of his hips. Your cheeks puff out, purposefully tightening the tape to get your point behind.

“I mean, I wouldn’t mind either way.” He cheekily smiles, before scoffing at the feeling of the measuring tape deliberately tightening around him.

You swear you can smell the scent of booze. You ignore it, before straightening your back to measure his waist. What you can’t ignore however, was that raspy drawl his voice had which somehow makes you fall for him over and over again.

He may be as dumb as rocks, but his little antics drew you in.

“Hey,” He calls out to catch your attention. You sweetly tilt your head up, and to the side when he looks down at you.

“You gon’ pick the colours of my suit, or do I get to?” He asks curiously.

You ponder, “Well.. Do you want to?”

He thinks about it for a moment, before coming up with an answer. “Nah. Reckon you should. You’re the professional, after all.”

You can’t help but let out a soft giggle, “I wouldn’t go that far.”

When you’ve finished his measurements, you excitedly turn to him to discuss the colour choices which’ll be appropriate for the event coming up soon. Both of your eyes meet and he peers down at you with a loving gaze, it catches your breath a bit before you force yourself to look down at the notes which contained your notes.

“I think your suit should have a low v cut to really show that upper-body of yours. Perhaps a classic navy blue as your primary colour, and— Hey! Are you even listening to me?”

He blinks a few times, a bit sheepish. “I am, I just don’t got a clue on what you’re saying, sweetheart.”

You can feel your hand tighten.

🪡 𝓳𝓪𝓿𝓲𝓮𝓻 𝓮𝓼𝓬𝓾𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓪,

“Ah.. Quite close there, aren’t you?” He has this.. devilishly handsome smile you want to wipe off badly. He peers down at you as if you were nothing but a little dollie while you measured his chest.

“‘M not trying to be!” You whine, going just a bit lower to wrap the measuring tape around his waist now. You hum delightfully as you find the exact number, squinting your eyes to see where the tip of the measurement tape lands on.

While you’re busy with your own little thing, you don’t notice the way Javier admires you from above. He can’t help but comment on it too.

“You know,” He starts of with a slow, lazy smile. Mischievous, even.

“You’re looking very pretty working down there.” He puts a lot of emphasis on the word ‘very’ in his sentence. It’s subtle, but if you were to be paying attention to him you’d get it immediately.

You tilt your head up to innocently thank him with a small smile etched on your pretty little face, before realising what his words were implying. That little..

“Javier!” You scold him with a very high-pitched tone. You feel your dignity fading away as soon as he replies with a mocking laugh to your whining.

“You know I’m just playing around, chica. Don’t take it so seriously.” His hand goes down to cheekily pinch your squishy cheek to get his point through. You frown.

“You’re horrible.” You babble, begrudgingly taking his last measurement. You’re very tempted to give him the cold shoulder, but decided against it.

“You’re too kind.” He sarcastically replies, that same lazy grin on his face from the start as when he sees you scribbling down some notes about his measurements and preferences. You throw a tiny glare at him, “I’m the one creating your suit here, be nice!”

“Mhm? I haven’t gotten to express my gratitude yet have I?” He takes the notepad away from you, setting it aside before easily picking you up by the waist and setting you on the table, your legs dangle off the edge easily as he nears you.

“Permiteme que, querida.”

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mickyschumacher · 10 months

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hi! I love the way you write and I’d love to see some Daniel Ricciardo or Oscar Piastri content!! Older brother’s best friend and something including model!reader or figureskater!reader. I also cannot begin to describe how much I love your Taylor song based fics. I was hooked on Style and Dress, thank you, have a wonderful day :)

𝐈 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 .ೃ࿐

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: you don't have much in common with oscar piastri other than three things: you're both rare talents, you know each other through your older brother, and that, unknowingly, you both really like each other.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: older brother's best friend trope! (although not heavily enforced), suggestive but nothing crude, poor ice skating knowledge, mentions of the spa track, crashing and DNFing, reader likes to blame things on alcohol, lily (oscar's current gf) is his ex (oops), slight diss of tsitp, jealousy!!!, scene of harassment and a creepy man, a physical altercation in which oscar gets physically hurt, attending the wounded scene! (sobbing rn), a cute and horribly cheesy, fluffy ending!

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: oscar piastri x figureskater!fem!reader, arthur leclerc x reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 5k+ (um srry hehe)

𝐀/𝐍: i wanted to this was oscar but since he's kinda young, i did a one year age gap bc the territory of 'the older brother's best friend' for piastri is alarming to say the least. i also assumed it was a female reader due to my other works, hope that and this whole piece is okay!!

𝐏.𝐒: if you couldn't tell, it's loosely based off of taylor swift's 'i can see you' bc i ended up losing track lmao. sorry for taking FOREVER but coming back from holiday, going straight back into uni, and having writer's block is the worst combo 🤧 as usual, poorly proof read!

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⋆ •°. 。 .°• ⋆

In a world of billions, quite strangely yet only logically, there were many talented people across the globe. But very few were be a World Champion let alone the opportunity. You were part of this few. The Youngest World Champion in figure skating in history, a two-time World Champion and the 2022 Olympic winner.

You were a living legacy in your town.

Of course, you couldn't do it without the support of the people you loved. Your parents attended all your competitions. In fact, your father was the one who had brought you to the ice when you were three. And your brother, no matter how much of a menace he was, he was your number one fan. Despite all the things he had to do, he was always there for you.

Your brother was one of those Australian boys who had turned their passion for dirt biking into a career for motorcross racing.

Naturally, he had found a friend who was also very interested in racing. However, instead he loved driving a open wheel single-seater formula racing car at crazy speeds. That friend was Oscar Piastri. A childhood best friend of your brother's and a sort of acquaintance slash family friend of yours.

It worried you two see some of the most important people in your lives risk death almost every day but you enjoyed watching them do something they loved.

You could see it in their eyes when they raced. It was the same passion you had for the ice. The slivers of ice that occasionally touched your skin thrilled you was the same excitement that coursed through the two Aussies when they felt their engines rev.

It was odd. You could've sworn a few days ago, you were all kids playing in the backyard of your house; your brother riding his toy bike while Oscar raced him on foot and you commentated in Oscar's favour to piss your brother off. And now all three of you were leading your careers: you were a competitive figure skater, your brother was slamming the MXGP and Oscar was one of the best rookies introduced to F1 in a while.

Where time had gone... you could not even begin to wonder. Heck, once upon a time you were staring down Oscar in the school hallways because for some reason you could only talk to him outside of school. And now... well, it was complicated to say the least.

You had always liked Oscar. It was difficult not to. He was always around you. The boyish charm, the small smiles, the puppy brown eyes, his offers to help you with your homework, you visiting him when he raced... everything had built up inside you. It was festering.

But that's how you liked it. You didn't want to cross any lines. As heart-racing and flustering as your crush on him was, you could not bear the idea of telling someone who was brotherly to you that you liked him.

It was repulsing.

And as far as his dating history could went, Oscar didn't like you. Oscar wasn't a player but he definitely didn't like being single from what you could tell.

To be honest, considering you didn't see him that much due both of your schedules, nothing between the both of you would've ever happened if you're annual family holiday hadn't happened.

Your family and the Piastri's took time out at least once a year to relax together. And this year, your brother and Oscar's breaks overlapped, and you had persuaded your coach for two weeks off. That was all the both of your parents needed before booking a trip to Greece. Everyone wanted to go when they were younger and now they could finally go.

Two weeks... not much could happen. At least so you thought.

The moment you saw Oscar in Greece, your heart thumped against your chest like it had never before and you knew you were screwed. It was ridiculous. How after all the time did you still like this stupid driver? He was the root cause of your lonely love life. Which for most figure skaters was not a big deal... you had prospect lovers falling left and right. Especially the guys in pair skating. But no... you were head over heels for Oscar out of all people.

With the firm boundaries you had made, you ventured to not make a big deal about what you were feeling and pushed it to the side. But the thing about pushing things away, they have a funny way of coming back up.

━━━━━━━━━━━

On the first night of your much needed vacation, you had found one of the most popular restaurants in Santorini while endlessly browsing through social media and decided to get everyone out of the lovely AirBnB you had rented. Upon arriving, your parents and Oscar's were cooped up on one side of the dining table, leaving the 'kids', as your mother calls you three, on the other.

You released a sigh of content, feeling the crisp breeze dance past your skin in the warm summer evening air while your sip of assyrtiko (Greek white wine) slipped past your throat far too easily. Thank God you had chosen an outdoor restaurant tonight. Every time you were on holiday, you couldn't be more grateful to get away from all the stress. If you could live like this every day, with the warm breezy evenings and the amazing architecture, you would.

"So," your mother started, her voice hitting your direction. You flickered your gaze over to her, raising a brow. "How are my kids' love lives? Are you getting down?" She waggled her eyebrows behind her glasses.

A wave of heat pricked your skin at your mother's words. "Mom!" You hissed out in disbelief while your father and Oscar's parents chuckled.

"What? You guys never tell me anything anymore! I used to be the holder of all your secrets and now... now I am an old woman!" Your mother cried, wiping an invisible tear off of her cheek.

You and your brother blankly looked at her and then towards each other. To say your mother was a character was an understatement. She enjoyed her theatrics far too much for anyone's liking, more specifically you're liking.

Oscar grinned, reaching out his hand to hover over hers. "You could never be an old woman. Always young in my heart."

Your brother snorted at Oscar's cheesiness. After you and your brother, Oscar was your mother's son and Oscar was a suck-up. He liked being in the good books, especially that of your mother's.

"Of course," Your mother chuckled softly, patting Oscar's hand gently. She sucked in a sharp breath. "What happen to you and Lily? I heard you two broke up? I thought you liked her a lot?"

You could see Oscar tense at the mention of his ex, your own body rigid. It wasn't a surprise to you but you actually hated hearing about Oscar's love life. Unrequited feelings were already a bitch and you didn't need to make it any worse.

Oscar cleared his throat, a small smiling tugging at his lips. "I thought I did too..." He trailed off, falling into his own trance momentarily. Suddenly his eyes flickered around his surroundings before they landed on you. "I guess I just saw something I else I liked a lot more."

A slight shiver crept down your spine and your heart travelled towards your ears. You pressed your lips tightly together, furrowing your brows.

What the fuck?

You snapped your eyes away, firmly placing them on your empty plate that suddenly held your entire world. Oscar had never ever looked at you like that. Any time you looked into those puppy browns, they were usually some mix between happy, anger, annoyance, sadness, humour, and the God forbidden 'I-see-you-as-my-sister' type love.

But this... this was something else entirely. The softness of his gaze, his words, the timing of it all; a perfect execution of sorts... it was a first.

Maybe you had taken one too many sips of the wine. It was the only reasonable explanation behind your obvious hallucination.

Sooner or later, the sun would set, a main reason behind your picking of the restaurant. The parents and your brother were at the front of the house, arguing about who paid for tonight's dinner. You were more than happy to wait it out on the balcony and revel in the last few rays of light, eyes closed and the breeze dancing across your skin.

"Well don't you look happy," Oscar voice stated, nearing you.

You opened your eyes, slightly turning your head to the side only to look back a few second later. Oscar and sunsets... you enjoyed that combo far too much for your liking.

"That's because I am. Sometimes being off the ice is refreshing," You told him, taking in a breath of the fresh evening air.

Out of your peripheral vision you could see Oscar tilt his head, eyes raking over you with a small grin tugging at his lips. You ignored the pace of your heart as he nodded at your remark, settling in next you with his hands on the balcony bar, a mere inch away from your own.

"I hear that," Oscar sighed, looking out at the horizon.

You forced yourself to look over at him, trying to read his mind after hearing the burdened sigh he released. "Oscar... I hope you know you're doing well in F1 right now. You're doing pretty good compared to Lando's rookie year."

Oscar smiled gently. You knew him far too well. "I know. I just... I feel like everyone's expecting so much more of me. Podiums... race wins... like everything else I've done. And then Spa came along."

You winced at the mention of the track. Oscar had collided with Carlos on the very first lap. Carlos said Oscar was too optimistic about making that turn and Oscar said that he didn't even know what Carlos doing; that the Spaniard turned as if he wasn't even on the track. Nevertheless, the collision resulted in both of them DNFing.

You snorted. "Spa is a shit track," You dismissed Oscar's current pessimism with a wave of your hand.

Oscar chuckled at your crudeness. He couldn't disagree with you. Spa was one of those tracks which felt auspicious to any driver. The one where you hoped you at least passed the finishing line. It didn't matter what your position was... as long as you passed it, you were okay.

"Guys come on! We've finished paying," Your brother called out.

The both of you turned around. Oscar pushed himself off of the bar, heading towards your brother. "Who won this one?" He asked in amusement, hands gliding past his waist. Ever so gently, in his walk, he teetered towards you, letting his hand brush past your own, sending a tingle down both of you.

You gulped at the racing feeling, immediately pulling your hand closer to yourself. This hairs of your body stood straight and your fingers felt numb. Heck, you felt numb.

Damn, you thought, this is some crazy good wine.

━━━━━━━━━━━

The thing about your inclination to blame everything on the alcohol you consumed was that it only actually worked if you consumed alcohol. You were lucky if you could extend to the remaining bits by a day with the claims of a hangover.

But right now, you were sober as hell.

An unfortunate event, to say the least.

"Y/N, wake up," Oscar's voice pounded against your blanketed, muffled ears.

"Ugh, no" You groaned, cocooning yourself into your blanket and pressing your head further into your pillow, savouring the warmth.

You always had such early mornings when you trained, waking up at ungodly hours only to workout before heading to the rink. Being on the ice was the only thing you loved. Your fans were sweet but everything else after that, the press, the workouts, the food, sucked. So you cherished the late summer morning in Santorini. And no person, let alone a boy who announced his F1 team to you by saying "I'm driving for a papaya", was going to ruin this for you.

Oscar put his hands on his hips, eyeing you with a twitch in his eye. "But breakfast is ready. I cooked!"

You laughed into your sheets lightly. "Oh boy, that's even worse!"

Oscar looked at your peeking head and humoured eyes blankly. "That," he started to say as he began to literally pull you out of your bed by your arms, "is very very rude thing to say to the chef."

"Oscar, no! Let go!" You begged, hands flailing to attach themselves to anything. Falling on the hard cold floor was not the ideal morning for you.

At least not alone.

You jutted out your leg, nudging Oscar's to the side, making him stumble over his steps. As he quickly realised he was losing balance, he threw his body under yours, creating a soft landing for you as you both fell to the floor.

You were laughing too hard to realise Oscar's one hand had even moved to your waist and the other to your head, as if it was to protect you from getting hurt.

"Oh my God! You should've seen your face! It was like–" You turned to mimic his expression but you couldn't find the words. All the air around you had been seized, your throat was dry and you were breathless.

When had Oscar's face become so close to yours?

You couldn't remember the last time you were this close to him. Probably as a child. He was cute back then as well. But growing up changed the both of you. The most apparent reminder of how old you were was the tiny short hairs from his chin that he always tried to shave off. His eyes were still as brown as ever, less big because he grew into his face. And his lips... they were kissable.

His face was also littered with freckles here and there. You didn't even realise your finger had shot out to play connect the dots with them until you could feel his faint warm breath from how close you were.

Your eyes trailed up his face to find his gaze firmly planted on yours. Suddenly you could feel where his hands were and your skin burned at his touch. The current heatwave in Europe had left you in some thin pyjamas. You didn't regret it last night but you definitely regretted wearing them right now.

Hypnotised, you found yourself leaning in naturally. Oscar's head also nudged forward. Your lips were barely a centimetre away from each other. You could hear your name slip out of Oscar's lips as the faintest whisper. Like it was a struggle to say your name because he couldn't think.

His woody and amber scent engulfed you and for a second, you couldn't think.

Not until you could hear your brother scream both of your names from the kitchen, demanding you to come to breakfast.

You blinked, falling out of your trance as quickly as you fell in.

Oscar felt you jerk in his arms suddenly, pushing yourself out of his hold and attempting to stand up. "Y/N, I–"

No. God, no.

You weren't ruining a friendship over this.

You could pretend. Yes. Pretend. You can't see him.

"We're coming!" You yelled back, feeling your cheeks redden with embarrassment and annoyance; both vexing feeling for yourself.

God, what a day to be sober.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Honestly how this holiday had gone from zero to a hundred was beyond you.

Pretending like nothing had happened in your room was harder than you thought. Not when Oscar looked at you with these burdened eyes and like he had something to say to you, right on the tip of his tongue.

You considered avoiding him. But doing so on a family trip was easier said than done. Besides, it would've been pretty obvious to everyone else and knowing your family, they would've made a big deal out of nothing. Because that's what it was: nothing.

But alas, you have a brother. And normally, he's stupid and self-obsessed to the point it bordered on unhealthy. But as your brother, it seemed he had some sort of sixth sense for these sorts of things. Something about the older sibling being superior or whatever lies he convinced himself with.

"Why are you being weird with Oscar? Your brother asked you while you ate some ice cream and caught up with the new season of 'The Summer I Turned Pretty'. At first, you couldn't fathom watching a character called 'Belly' out of all things but somehow you got hooked.

You paused the scoop of ice cream you put in your mouth, letting it slowly melt away as you stared hard at your nuisance of a brother. "I have literally no idea what you're talking about."

"Ha, nice try. You're supposed to use 'literally' when you deny it the second time," Your brother smiled at you smugly.

You pressed your lips together, feeling your teeth slightly grind against your spoon. You couldn't decide whether you wanted to smack the shit of your brother with a spoon or bury him in a six-foot deep hole.

"Come on, lil sis, you can talk to me. Everyone's out of the house right now," He partially jested while being entirely serious.

Burying him in a hole it was.

"I have nothing to say to you," You stated, eyes reverting back to your show.

Your brother narrowed his eyes, grabbing the remote to pause the episode. Ignoring your exclaim of annoyance, he sat down next to you and took your ice cream and spoon away from you to dig into the pint for himself.

You shuddered in disgust. You were not having that flavour for a while.

He pointed your spoon at you. "I know you think I'm stupid, which I may be, but I'm not entirely an idiot. What happened with you and Oscar? You were all happy buddies a few days ago. Now he looks like a lost puppy and you look like you saw Pennywise in the hallway."

You bit down on your lip to prevent yourself from laughing. You couldn't actually let him know he was funny.

"Did he do something to you? Y/N, if he did something wrong to you I swear to God... just tell me and I will end him."

Your eyes widened at the sudden change of the conversation. Sitting up, you waved your hands in urgent dismissal. "No! Oh my God, nothing like that! Holy shit."

Your brother let a relieved exhale fall from his mouth before furrowing his brows. "Then what happened? Is it your stupid crush on him?"

"I–what?" You asked dumbfounded, looking at your brother incredulously.

"Your crush? Like the one you've had since you first laid eyes on him. You know everyone knows right? It's kinda obvious. Well, everyone but Oscar," your brother said nonchalantly.

You blinked blankly at him. "Before I throw myself off of a cliff, I can give you the generous choice of how you die? Personally I'm thinking asphyxiation, arson, or murder."

Your brother gulped, slowly putting away the ice cream. "Okay, first off stop watching Criminal Minds so much. Second of all, you don't need to feel embarrassed. All of us have been secretly rooting for you. Especially mom and Oscar's mom. You should've seen how happy they got when I told them Oscar and Lily broke up. It was seriously creepy."

You sighed, falling onto the couch. "It doesn't matter how creepy it was. We almost kissed! And then you called for us. Any later, I would've ruined our friendship. What's the point anyways? He doesn't like me. I'm gonna die in the friendzone," You dramatically sobbed out.

"Well you can start by not turning the other direction when you see him. Poor guy looks like you killed his dog. Do you think a guy who's dog was killed has any guts to speak to their murderer? And that's beside the fact that he may like his murderer."

Where was that shovel again?

"You know what you need to do? Do something that makes him talk to you. I got it! I could set you up with Arthur! He's in Santorini too! Oscar would hate it."

"Oh my God... do you want me to die?" You asked, slightly horrified at the look of pure joy on your brother's face .

Your brother grinned. "Of course, I do. Would I be your brother if I didn't?"

━━━━━━━━━━━

For as long as he could remember, Oscar was a peaceful guy. He didn't really get angry quickly. He was usually calm and usually could think before he acted.

But all those characteristics were thrown out the window, well into the air of the music festival everyone decided to attend, when he saw you walk into the event with Arthur Leclerc. His former teammate out of all people.

"Is that Arthur? Why is he here?" Oscar asked your brother.

"Hmm?" Your brother turned around, pretending to squint at the two of you briefly before catching your piercing gaze. "Oh yeah... that is him. He told me he was in Greece. Guess he found Y/N first. Makes sense I guess."

Oscar looked at your brother dubiously. "I... what does that even mean?"

"I don't know why but I always got the feeling he liked Y/N," your brother shrugged.

Oscar blinked. "You're taking the fucking piss..." He huffed in disbelief.

"What? Oh? Here they come."

Truth be told, Arthur was more than happy to oblige with your brother's game. He hadn't seen Oscar in a while because they were in different championships now. Getting the opportunity to play with him a bit was a hard offer to turn down.

"Ozzie!" Arthur cheered, bringing him into a hug.

Oscar raised a brow at you. That pet name originated from you when the three of you decided to become superheroes for a day and you decided to name eight-year-old Oscar, 'Ozzie the Mozzie' after he got bitten by one. No one else on Earth called him that but you.

"I was telling Arty here about that mozzie that bit you and he really liked Ozzie the Mozzie," You chuckled softly.

Arty...

God give him strength because Oscar wasn't sure how much longer he could bear this.

To be honest, you weren't much of a music festival type of person. It was always crowded, hot, and filled with some sort of drugs even if you couldn't see it.

But aside from that, you enjoyed the serenity it could bring; the indie music that was well on it's way to becoming pop; the calming breeze; the warming sun.

Well you would enjoy it more if a certain Aussie wasn't staring daggers to the side of your head–Arthur's head.

You felt a tap on your shoulder and you turned around to see a stranger. A somewhat attractively creepy stranger but a stranger nonetheless. You raised your brows and gave a small smile. "Yes?"

"I know you don't know me but I just saw you from over there and I wanted to say you're really pretty!"

You blinked, feeling the three boys around you stiffen at the compliment. You nodded slowly, putting on a grateful smile. "Oh, thank you so much," You responded, laughing awkwardly.

A moment of awkward silence settled in the air as the guy still remained in front of you.

"So... I was wondering if I get could get your number?" The guy asked with an odd glint in his eyes.

The alarms were ringing in your head and an uncomfortable shiver went down your spine. "Uh, I'm sorry. I... I don't really want to. But thanks for your offer," You politely declined.

"Oh come on. I called you pretty... that's gotta be worth your number. Come on."

Oh.

Honestly, you were speechless. Your number which for him was the leeway into your intimate life was worth a compliment.

"Yeah, I don't think so," You quipped sharply, gritting your teeth.

"Come on, baby girl. Let me show you a fun time." The guy stepped forward, his hand reaching towards your body.

You froze at his words. You wanted to move but you couldn't.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Oscar, Arthur, and your brother step in front of you.

"Mate, fuck off. She doesn't want you," Oscar pushed the guy away from you.

Your brother snorted. "I don't think anyone wants him."

The guy sneered, making you wince. He raised his hands in a feigned defence, beginning to turn away from you. Thank God. "Fine. I didn't want a girl like you anyways. All these guys around you... a whore."

Arthur and you, as the pacifists you were, watched in silent horror as your brother poked his tongue in his cheek and Oscar's head quickly whipped towards the guy.

"Oscar..." You warned meekly as Arthur tried to get your brother's attention.

The last thing any of you needed was famed athletes on the front page of ESPN, cited as the cause of a brawl.

"What did you say?" Oscar raised a brow, ignoring your pleas and walking towards the guy. His tone was dark and the total opposite of what he normally sounded like. He was raged.

"The truth," The guy chuckled. "I said she's a whore. Why? What are you gonna do about it, little boy?"

Yeah see, the guy most definitely had a couple of inches on Oscar and you brother. You weren't really keen on seeing them get pummelled to the ground.

Oscar said nothing in response but raised his fist, slamming it into the side of the guy's jaw.

Oh for fuck's sake.

As if the guy had lightening reflexes, the guy quickly pulled his head back up and got a hold of Oscar, getting into a cycle of punches.

Your heart dropped at the sight. Your brother, thank God, and Arthur quickly realised that Oscar wasn't winning anything here, stepping in to push the two men apart. A small crowd began to gather, some thankfully aiding in trying to stop whatever was going on.

Arthur pulled Oscar away and towards you. You held Oscar against you, clutching him tightly as your heart raced in your ears. Somewhere in the muffled sounds you could hear your brother.

"We're going home. Now."

━━━━━━━━━━━

Your brother and Arthur had decided to go explain the situation the both of your parents who were out having lunch because you couldn't blame all those bruises and dry blood on Oscar's face by saying he fell. This left you to clean up Oscar to reduce the risk of your parents having a heart attack.

You clenched your jaw, holding the first aid kid and a wet cloth to your side as you walked towards the seated racing driver who had found a lot of interest in the floor all of a sudden while icing his face.

"I can't believe you," You mumbled in annoyance, taking a seat next to him. You gently grabbed his chin, putting side the ice bag, trying to decide on where to start cleaning but you could only wince at his face. His bottom lip and his brow was slightly torn, the side of his jaw and the top of his cheek had started to bruise, and his nose was a blood fest.

All the pain Oscar felt began to disappear as he felt your hands gently graze past his skin, scouting all the damage that had occurred. He looked at your pained eyes and internally sighed. He hated seeing you in pain. "He was disrespecting you. I wasn't going to just let it go."

You rolled your eyes, slowly wiping away the dry blood. "He was like six foot two, Oscar. You're like five foot. He could've ki... he could've really hurt you," You jested before your voice fell into a bare whisper.

Oscar's heart clenched as you went back on your words, watching you grab some antiseptic with shaky hands. He grabbed your hands, holding them with his own and softly looked into your eyes. "But he didn't. I'm fine. See?" He smiled widely before wincing at the pain shooting through his face.

You snorted. "As if."

"Hey, you're talking to a guy who crashes at most craziest speeds. Bet that guy can't do that," Oscar shrugged nonchalantly.

You narrowed your eyes. "If you weren't already hurt, I would've smacked the shit out of you right now. Just so you know."

Oscar grinned at you. "Ah, there's the ever kind Y/N I love."

You rolled your eyes before processing what he had just said. As friends. Friendly love. Right. You shook your head out of your trance, removing your hands from his and returning back to the stupid first aid kit next to you.

Oscar mended his brows together. "Hey," he tapped your thigh, "you heard what I said right?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah," You said idly, opening the tube of antiseptic cream.

"What? I..." Oscar sighed, taking the cream out of your hands before pulling you closer to him. His hands held your face, looking you dead in the eye. "I said I love you, Y/N. You know... the type where you look at someone and all you know is that you can't breathe without them? The one in your books?"

Your mouth felt dry. You blinked blankly. Your hands felt clammy. You chuckled nervously. "Pfft, what? You don't love me. You mean as a friend, right? I think you need some medicine. Maybe there's some in this kit." Your eyes darted down, frantically looking around the box as your heart thudded against your chest.

"Hey, hey," Oscar called, using his hand to turn your chin towards him. "I don't. I mean, I do love you as a friend, but no. I love love you."

"Well... what about about Lily?"

"As I said... I realised I loved someone else more," Oscar told you, letting his confession sink into your mind. "You know... if your idiot brother didn't call us that day, I definitely would've kissed you."

Oh.

Well.

That was something.

This was real. You weren't dreaming. You hadn't died. Oscar, your childhood best friend and your brother's best friend, was confessing to you.

"Huh... well, if it's any consolation, I probably would've kissed you too," You retorted, trying to keep your quirking lips at bay before you began smiling for too much for anyone's liking.

"Probably? That kinda sucks. Are you sure you wouldn't have definitely kissed me?" Oscar grinned, grabbing your waist and seating you down on his lap.

"Hmm... I mean maybe. This current environment is nowhere near as enticing as my bedroom. I mean what is sexier than me waking up, am I right?" You joked, trying to cover up the fact that you were dying at the proximity between you two.

Oscar pushed a lock of your hair behind your ear, letting his fingers trail down your cheek, holding your jaw while his thumb grazed your lips. "Well, I can think of a few other things."

You silently watched as Oscar leaned in and pressed his lips against yours. His lips were softer than you could ever imagine.

You blinked, taking a mere second to register what was going on. Oscar Piastri was kissing you. Holy shit, Oscar Piastri was kissing you!

You kissed him back, feeling his hand wrap around the back of your neck and the other holding you steady against him. Your skin burned at his touch, feeling his fingers snake past the hem of your shirt and rest on your hot skin.

Oddly enough, despite your heat, goosebumps sprawled across every inch of your skin as his tongue darted out, exploring your own, giving you access to his mouth.

You could've sworn you were walking on fire. One more step and you could've combusted. Your thighs clenched at the moan that slipped from Oscar's mouth as your teeth tugged on his bottom lip, your hands roaming around his chest and his arms.

Oscar's hand wrapped around your hair, enjoying the softness he had wanted touch ever since he realised he had feelings for you. His pants felt tight as he felt your hand brush against his bare torso. Fuck. You were going to do him in. He fell back further into the couch, holding you tighter against him.

The desire you had was blinding you. Your other hand fell to his cheek, forgetting about his injuries till Oscar murmured an "ouch".

You retracted your hands, pulling back from his lips, a move Oscar clearly didn't enjoy as his eyes followed your lips. "Shit!" You exclaimed, "the antiseptic! Sorry!"

Oscar paused in his trance, realising what you were talking about. He smiled softly, lips widening even further when he saw your swollen lips and flushed cheeks.

You carefully applied the cream to his brow before moving to his lips. "The diagnosis for you Mr Piastri is no more kissing for you," You grinned.

Oscar looked at you dumbfounded. "I–what? For how long?"

"Mmm... a week?"

"A week?" Oscar repeated in exasperation. "There is no way I can last that long. Not after this. Besides I'm pretty sure kissing actually helps you heal faster."

Your skin warmed further at his confession. You cleared your throat and held his hands. "I am confident that is not scientifically true."

Oscar narrowed his eyes, lips quirking in amusement. "You need to read better medical journals, doc."

You tilted your head to the side, leaning in further. "I think I have an alternative."

"Yeah?" Oscar's eyes danced across your face, smiling softly. "What is it?"

"It's less practical, more theoretical. Confessional, if you will," You shrugged, letting your forehead rest against his.

Oscar shut his eyes, enjoying the warmth of you. "Oh really? Don't let me stop you."

"I love you, Oscar. I've loved you since we were little heroes running around in the backyard."

Oscar opened his eyes, hands wrapping around your waist. He smiled widely at you. "Are you sure you said a week?"

You rolled your eyes, hitting his chest playfully. "I'm sure."

#mickyschumacher #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula 1 #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri imagine

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theroundbartable · 3 days

Text

Now I want more awkward crush Arthur.

Merlin *about to retire*: is that all, Sire?

Arthur *suddenly captivated by the fire dancing in Merlin's eyes*: uh... Of course. Yes. Always, as you said.

Merlin: what?

Arthur: what?

...

After a long, awkward dream, during a game of never have I ever:

Gwaine: have you ever had gay dreams?

Arthur: *chokes on drink from last round*

Gwaine: you okay, mate?

Arthur *coughing* who'd ever have dreams about THAT? With Merlin? Don't be ridiculous, Gwaine.

Gwaine: I never mentioned Merlin?

Arthur: *blanks* but it was implied

Gwaine: noo... I'm pretty sure I would not imply such a thing if I knew it made you so flustered.

Arthur: well, anyways. I'm not going to drink on it because this never happened. *Chucks a whole glass of wine*

...

Lancelot suggesting at an inn that Merlin and Arthur share a room.

Arthur: what? No, we - this is inappropriate!

Lancelot: *jesting* Merlin is not a fair maiden. You don't have to protect his virtue

Arthur: that- but he's - i didn't mean - he couldn't have-

Merlin: Arthur, are you alright?

Arthur: did you? Lose your virtue?

Merlin: when I was 16. Jeez, Arthur, what the hell are you on about? We can share a bloody room, don't be a prat! Unless you have any virtue we need to protect?

Arthur: *sputtering nonsensically* maybe a little?

Lancelot: what do you mean, a little?

...

*Merlin dressing as a noble to fool some bandits. He and Arthur exchanged clothes and now Arthur is wearing Merlin's tight jacket that smells like him, while Merlin looks like a regal King. He even walks like one*

Gwaine: Oi, princess, you good?

Arthur: *in a daze* uhu

Gwaine: *waves hand in front of Arthur's unmoving eyes* I think we broke him

...

Princess: *trying to flirt with Arthur* maybe we should go somewhere else? to talk?

Arthur: *watching Merlin from afar* hmm? No, I'm good

Princess: you, eh - *follows gaze* oh my. That servant of yours is quite attractive, isn't he?

Arthur: yeah. *Realizes what he said* eh - what? Sorry, I wasn't listening. What were you saying?

Princess: I believe I've lost this battle, my Lord. *Leaves*

Arthur: uh - what?

...

Arthur: *undressing for bed*

Merlin: *stares*

Arthur: what is it, Merlin? Would you like to request a painting, it'll last longer.

Merlin: hmm... Would you do a nude for me?

Arthur: *voice breaking* now?

Merlin: i was - joking

Arthur: oh *chuckles awkwardly* yes, of course. Sure. ...

Merlin: go on - get ready for bed

Arthur: yes, sure, sure, of course *sweats*

#bbc merlin #merlin #merthur #merlin bbc #arthur #concept #pining Arthur #I think it's funny

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wutheringcaterpillar · 8 months

Text

18 years

Summary: After 18 years of marriage Thomas plans a special day just for you that he wants to be perfect even if that means keeping his kids out of trouble.

Warnings: Slight misogynistic Thomas, talk of termination.

Side Note: This is my first fic in awhile since I stopped writing two years ago on a different account, I hope it's okay! :)

The Shelby household was anything but perfect but for today Thomas was going out of his way to ensure that it was. Being a housewife and a mother was by far not an easy job.Thomas and you had been married for eighteen years. Did it get ugly sometimes? Absolutely. That didn’t change the adoration and love you shared for each other.

While you were out running some errands with Ada, Thomas has quite a few helping hands in cleaning up the house, and decorating it to the 10s. “Well brother, how’s it lookin’ eh?”

The silver chandelier presented the dining room with a warm glow that made the silver set table look ever so inviting. All the rooms were vacuumed and mopped, not a crumb in site. The floors glistened beautifully to his high standard. “Never did I think that my incompetent brothers would use their brains for a day and the outcome be satisfactory.” Arthur laughed in response, before giving Thomas a playful nudge. “Alright, that’s enough out of you.” Thomas rushed to the kitchen once he remembered he left the kids in there unattended. They were being not very helpful to say the least.

Annabeth, and Edward were now teenagers full of hormones and outbursts. It seemed like they would argue every day about the smallest things but today Thomas wasn’t allowing there behavior especially today.

“Does dad know about Jackson?” Annabeth scoffed at him with a disgusted face. Thomas did not allow her to date unless he appointed the young man to her. The same could not be said for Edward’s late night shenanigans that Thomas was aware of and Annabeth despised the double standard. “No, and I’d appreciate if you kept your fucking mouth sh-“

“Now, now. No need for bickering on a day that’s about your mother and all she has done for you.” Thomas entered the room dressed in a black and white suit and tie that fit him snuggly, giving off his normal professional sense. “I wanted to have a word with the both of you before your mother arrives which should be-“ He pulled his watch out of his suit to get a glimps of the time. “In ten minutes precisely.” Edward opened his mouth to speak but Thomas raised his hand to stop him. “I don’t want any interruptions I want you both to listen to the words that are about to come out of my mouth and I highly suggest you take them seriously or you will not enjoy the consequences. Eh?” He eyed them both with his eyebrows raised, both of them stayed quiet as they lightly cowered in there seats to there father’s stature. “Stand up. Both of you.” Without hesitations the teenagers stood up, not slouching but standing to s perfect straight line.

“No. Fucking. Fighting.” Thomas walked around them in a circle menacingly never taking his eyes off of them while they stared at the ground and listened to their fathers words. “I don’t care, if you don’t like the food. I don’t care if you don’t like sitting next to each other. More importantly I don’t care how either of you feel today. Today is about your mother. There will be no games, no arguments, no sports. More importantly-“ He stopped in his tracks now in front of them, hands on his knees as he leaned down so they had no choice but to look in his demeaning eyes. “No. Fucking. Fighting.”

There was a brief silence, as if to let the air settle and for what he said to soak into them. “We’re clear eh?” They both nodded and Thomas dismissed them. “Great now, go get formally dressed.” He watched as they both walked out of the kitchen. He greatly appreciated how much time and effort you spent in taking care of them and it’s time they return the favor for at the least one singular night.

Edward shoved his sister playfully into a wall, just around the corner to where they thought Thomas wouldn’t hear. Annabeth shoved him back and pointed up at him. “If you say one thing about-“

“Who your late night squeeze?” Edward began to laugh and Annabeth shoved him again.

Thomas heard from the kitchen and raised his hands in the air, disposing of his cigarette before he spoke to himself, annoyed. “What did I just say?” Thomas was going to let it go until he heard something break that sounded expensive.

In a quick pace to the hallway, he saw the both of you attempting to round the corner to the next room but they should know who their father is by now that nothing goes uncaught. “Eh! Over here now!” The siblings shamefully turned awaiting for all hell to break loose. Thomas was the strict parent, and that frightened them, which is what he wanted.

Glancing to the ground, an expensive, rare crystal dish was shattered on the floor, and he was going to be damned if Frances was going to clean it up. For Thomas’s sake he just hope you wouldn’t notice until after his surprise. “I said three, fucking words to you.”

“No. Fucking. Fighting.” He hit the both of them on the back of their heads. “Yes I’m aware of Jackson, I was hoping to avoid the subject today but I have ears so I suppose this will be addressed right fucking now to clear the fucking air. I pay close attention to anyone and anything around me and my family. You both should know that more than anyone. Seeing Jackson stops now. I don’t approve of him, my daughter will not be marrying some useless sack of shit like that. See him again. You will never leave this house again, got it?” Annabeth nodded with her heated cheeks. Edward began to quietly laugh to himself while his sister was being reprimanded.

That’s when Thomas was quick to call him out too. “I don’t know what the fuck you think you’re giggling at like I don’t know what you do with the little whores from school, sneaking them into my fucking house.” All grins from Edward diminished immediately.

“What you do is your business but in my fucking house. That’s my fucking business. Clearly your mother and I have given both of you too much privilege. I don’t care who you fuck but I’d be careful if I were you because the first girl you get pregnant, you’re marrying whether you love her or not. You know why? Because I say so. As for sneaking them in my house. Good luck with that from now on I’m sure you haven’t noticed but maybe you should take a look at the new people I hired if you could find them to watch the house whilst your mother and I are away for our anniversary.” Both of them were speechless and Thomas sent them up to their room. Thomas may be older than them but he wasn’t born yesterday. After all he spent plenty of those nights sneaking in and out of your house when you first started dating. He knows all the ins and outs of scheming.

The sound of car door closing grabbed his attention and panic mode slightly set in for him. Thomas Shelby didn’t panic but in the event of there being a chance that something may not be to your standard, he panicked. “Hurry on, your mother is here! Get dressed in proper clothes and not some skimpy, raggedy mess for once!” He yelled after his children.

The weather was chilly as winter was approaching in Birmingham. The snow was falling delicately from the sky once you pulled in with Ava and to say you were freezing was an understatement but the new brown wool blanket, she has gotten you should do more than help. “Ada you didn’t have to buy me anything. I have money.”

“Oh being married to my brother, believe me I know you have money, just wanted to treat you today is that so bad?” You shrugged, smiling at your sister. “C’mon let’s get inside.”

“Oh I hope Thomas was okay with the kids today, I know he’s hardly taking care of them alone without needing my help.” Ada set a comforting hand on your shoulder before reaching for the door handle. “Y/N if Thomas can’t handle them for a few hours, I don’t know how you’ve gotten this far.” You both laughed and once the door opened, you were met with a warm embrace there must’ve been a fire lit in the living room. Thomas came abruptly from around the corner after yelling something at Arthur that you weren’t able to make out. “Y/N! My dear loving wife!” Thomas pulled you to his side, and had Ada remove your jacket.

He was freshly shaven, and showered, smelling of mint and tobacco. His smile pierced your eyes, and he leaned down to kiss you softly. “How was your day out with Ada love?”

“Wonderful, was nice to get away from all the testosterone for a bit.” You giggled and then started noticing your surroundings. The floor was sparkling, not a sign of dirt or mud. The laundry basket was empty, the kitchen spotless, you went to turn into the dining room but Thomas quickly placed his hands over your eyes. “Thomas, what’s going on the house looks-“

“Happy anniversary sweetheart.” He removed his hands and the sight of the dining room was absolutely breathtaking. The curtains looked brand new, a dark cherry red colored that allowed the sun to poke through in a welcoming manner. The chairs were painted black and with gold patted seats to sit on. The food arrangements looked more than delicious and most importantly your whole family was there. Annabeth dressed in a a beautiful gold gown and Edward dressed in a suit and tie matching his father. Even the Shelby brothers looked showered and dressed to the tens. “Thomas I-“

He guided you to your seat, pulling out the chair for you. “Don’t say anything love, just enjoy dinner and don’t even think about doing dishes or cleaning up after this. We’ve got it.” Thomas winked at you as he took his seat beside you, the glowing of your smile and surprise leaving him just as happy as the day you said yes to marrying him.

18 years, and he still found time to manage to make it feel like the first day you fell in love with him. “I just want to take a moment to thank Frances who will also be joining us for this lovely meal. I couldn’t have put today together without any of you. Thank you for taking them time to assist me in doing this for Y/N, my beautiful wife whom I adore and admire more and more every day. Thank you for being such a wonderful mother to our kids and dealing with me. Not sure how you quite do it but I’m glad you’ve stayed and put up with me.” Thomas raised his glass of whiskey in honor of everyone.

Your eyes began to water to which he’d caught your tear of joy with his free finger. You mouthed a thank you to him and an I love you and dinner began. Once dinner was over Thomas made a final announcement. “Tonight Y/N and I will be leaving for Bali for our anniversary.” You gasped, hand covering your mouth in disbelief. You’d never gone and you had never found the time. Thomas wasn’t giving you an option to not have time. “We’ll return Wednesday afternoon and I’d just like to take a minute to thank Pol and Frances for watching the kids. Thank you all for coming, and I appreciate every one of you bastards.” Laughs filled the room while Thomas extended his hand for you to take and help you out of your seat.

Once upstairs you stared at your body in the mirror, just getting the feeling that something was off but putting it off your mind. “You didn’t have to do all this Thomas.” He came up behind you in the mirror, wrapping his arms around your waist, snuggling his head into the crook of your neck. “I did love. You do so much and never take time for yourself, always putting I and the children first. You need to be put first too.” Swinging around, you stared into your husband’s crystal blue eyes.

It has been a long, long ride for the two of you together, that will keep going. But this soft, sentiment man had taken awhile to appear and you’re not sure how you got him to come out but you were glad you did. “I love you Mr. Shelby.”

“And I love you Mrs. Shelby.” You giggled as he smiled down at you in awe, before placing his lips on yours, connecting them in a chaste, delicate kiss. “Mom, Dad the cab’s here!” Annabeth called.

“Would you shut up you idiot, dad probably already knew that.”

“Eh! No fighting, right?” There was a silence before they both responded in unison. “Sorry dad!”

“I don’t know how you managed to get them along for dinner but kahoots to you my dear husband because that’s something I could never do.” Thomas wrapped his arm around you, as you walked down the stairs together. “I’m Thomas Shelby. The name alone fucking scares anyone.”

“Well I guess I’m not anyone then am I?” Thomas shook his head smiling. “No, no you’re not. You weren’t even frightened of me when I screamed at some whore, for thinking she could seduce me.”

“Fuck no, if you hadn’t I wouldn’t be Mrs. Shelby now would I?” Thomas laughed once more before opening the car door for you. The snow covered ground glistened from the bright night sky as you scooted into the cab.

The ride was quiet whilst you rested in Thomas’s arms which he thought was rather odd, that usually meant something was on your mind. “Are you alright love?” Breaking a part from, you took his hand in yours. “There’s been something I’ve been meaning to tell you.” Worry etched over Thomas’s face but it didn’t compete with the level of anxiety you were feeling. “Whatever it is you can tell me Y/N, we’re celebrating eighteen years of marriage nothing is going to run me off now I can assure you that.” You stared down at the seat, eyebrows etched together in concern of his reaction. Patting his hand you looked up at him slowly, paying close attention to his eyes. “Thomas I think I might be pregnant. I know it's a big age gap for Edward and Annbeth to be close with them but I still want to have this baby." Thomas didn't hesitate to speak as he did not want to worry you. "Sweetheart, how long have you known?"

"I think I've known for about a week and I know it sounds silly that I was nervous to tell you but I didn't know if you'd want me to get rid of it because I know we didn't plan for this."

"Darling we didn't plan for the first two." You laughed and Thomas pulled you into his arms, resting his hands on your stomach. "I'd never ever want you to think I'd want you to get rid of our child besides, I love when you're pregnant, your swollen tits, your glowing smile and glowing tummy. I love every part of you Y/N nothing is going to change that. Okay?" You couldn't help the tears that began to stream down your cheeks, that Tommy once again wiped away, and he smiled lovingly at you. You nodded and leaned into his chest. You were going to be okay, and today was more than amazing. It was perfect.

#thomas shelby #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader #ranaewrites

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zae-heeyyy · 8 days

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Recalcitrance

Summary: You and Ms. Grimshaw just can't get along. Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Female!Reader Word Count: 1,763 Tags: fluff, kissing, high honor Arthur Warnings: camp violence, angry Arthur, suggestive themes

a/n: I have mixed feelings about Grimshaw. I think she's a very enigmatic character. Still, based on interactions I've seen with her, I feel this isn't too far off. These always end up super long for some reason. Idk how that keeps happening. Anyway, I hope you enjoy; thanks for reading!

recalcitrance: resistance to authority or guidance, often characterized by defiance or disobedience. It implies a refusal to comply with rules or expectations, despite attempts to persuade or control.

You and Abigail Roberts went way, way back. Working girls stuck to a code; part of that code was looking out for each other and ensuring you returned after one of your "shifts." Abigail ran away for a while, leaving you to assume she'd met a rich man and settled down.

When you met her again, she introduced you to Dutch Van Der Linde and company; you fell in with them shortly after. Since then, you constantly scrubbed blood from clothes, slept on the ground, and ate whatever game Pearson could find for the stew. Many girls you knew would never trade that life for this one, but you had a family to return to, even if they weren't the most conventional. And amidst it all, you'd found something you didn't think possible for you.

You were drawn to Arthur Morgan instantly. The little things spoke volumes for you—how he checked on you in passing, the moments spent playing dominos together, and his overall politeness towards you. The bar was in hell, but he treated you so differently than any man ever had. Arthur's dumb cowboy act didn't fool you for a second, and you were captivated by him.

After one too many inadvertent shoulder grazes and incidental hand touches, the chemistry between you had become undeniable. Following a game of dominos he let you win, the stocky man asked you to take a walk with him. You weren't too far away from camp before you found yourself pressed against a tree by him in a heated kiss. So many thoughts swirled around your head. You were in the middle of nowhere; it was pitch black, and you were being hunted by the law, yet there against that tree was the safest you'd felt in a long time.

Then, on another fateful night, you were alone with him at the campfire while everybody else had settled down. A sly smirk crossed his face, and he scooted closer to you, grabbing and kissing your hand. You giggled, maintaining eye contact as he kissed up your arm, gradually, a low groan escaping him. One thing led to another, and he guided you into his tent. You let him have you, and you, him.

It was then, when you were on the brink of your climax, half-lidded eyes staring upward into his, that you finally understood what people meant by lovemaking. When it was all over, you got up to leave out of habit, but he drew you back into his arms and asked you to stay.

Since then, you've been his girl, and he made sure everybody knew, always kissing you before he left for a job, settling you into his lap at the poker table, or sneaking you away from your chores to spend time with him. You saw each other for what you were, not the labels that had been applied to you. And you loved him so much.

For the first time in a long time, your life was good. Well, mostly, except you hadn't quite mastered the life of navigating Ms. Grimshaw. Over the almost year you'd known her, she was rarely nice to you. She seemed more tame when Arthur was around, but he wasn't today.

By noon, you had gotten sick of hearing her voice, and she seemed more ornery than usual. The nagging was constant: do this, don't do that, do this faster, do this slower. You wished she'd shut the hell up and leave you alone. Just when you thought it couldn't get any worse, you saw her speed-walking towards you.

You were sitting, about to light a cigarette, when she approached, red-faced, huffing, and talking fast, "There you are," she started, putting a finger in your face. "Sitting around like always. I have had it with you!" You stood quickly out of instinct and opened your mouth to speak, but she cut you off. "You're useless around here, so why don't you go into town and start selling yourself again. At least then you'd finally be carrying your weight!"

Her words stung like branding, making your heart race and your eyes sting. The few people left at camp had gone quiet. Mary-Beth looked on nervously while Karen was glaring at the older woman. Your heart pounded in your ears, and you spoke faster than your brain could process.

"All you're good for is being an ugly, hateful bitch." As soon as the words left your mouth, she swung on you. It was a backhanded slap that stung and broke the barrier that was holding back your tears. You recoiled, holding your stinging face.

"Know your place, girl, before you end up somewhere worse than on your back. Now get!" She pointed towards the edge of camp.

"Screw you," you said, quickly wiping away a falling tear, "I'd rather fuck every man in town before I keep letting myself be treated like this." You stepped up to her, " Want me to leave? Well, I'm goin."

And you did. You collected what little belongings you had into a bag and charged out of camp, eyes forward and your head held high. Tilly and Mary-Beth tried to stop you, but you marched down the dirt path until they couldn't see you anymore.

"Look what you gone and did you old hag," Karen spat, "Oh, just wait til Mr. Morgan gets back. Bet you won't be so high and mighty then."

Arthur didn't ride in until sunset; he searched for you before even getting off his horse. His face fell confused by your absence, and just as he was about to inquire, Mary-Beth and Tilly approached. He knew instantly that something was wrong.

"What, what is it?" His eyes searched theirs. They looked at each other, silently debating who'd break the news to him. It was Tilly who stepped forward, putting a calming hand on Arthur's arm. She talked low and cautious, "Arthur, she—her and Ms. Grimshaw—they—" She was cut off by Karen and Ms. Grimshaw beelining towards them.

Karen's voice boomed, speech slurred. "Go ahead, tell 'em." She waved her beer-clutching hand between Arthur and Ms. Grimshaw, defiantly meeting Susan's gaze before tearing her eyes away to meet Arthur's. "That wench Grimshaw smacked her across the face and ran her out!"

Clenching his fist involuntarily, he leaned into Karen, talking low and steady. "The hell are you talking 'bout?" His chest was rising and falling quickly now.

Ms. Grimshaw stood resolute and waved him off. "This doesn't concern you, Mr. Morgan. This is my camp, and these are my girls and my rules," she finished, arms crossed, staring at Arthur.

Stepping close, he imposed his broad figure on Ms. Grimshaw, flashing a smile that was anything but inviting. He took on a tone he rarely used with the women.

"Oh, Susan, that's where me and you disagree. This may very well be your camp, and you can make up all the rules you want, but she's my girl." His face had straightened into a scowl by the time he finished.

"Well, I'll—" she began incredulously, hands still on her hips, but Arthur threw up a halting finger.

"Look, Ms. Grimshaw, I respect how you run this camp, but that girl, she's off limits. Now, I'm gonna find her and bring her back, and you can raise all the hell you want, but if you lay a finger on her again—"

"Arthur..." Tilly cut in warningly. He squeezed his eyes shut and turned away, ending his conversation with Susan. "Where'd she go?" he asked no one and everyone at the same time, speed walking to his horse.

"She took off down the road," Mary-Beth called out, but his horse was already kicking up dirt. Riding as fast as he could, he reached the nearest town at record speed. He hitched the horse outside the train station, forcing the doors open with his shoulder. The place went quiet, everybody focusing on the sudden disturbance. Arthur ignored the looks he was getting, scanning faces for yours. Spotting you took no time, and you stood as soon as you recognized him. He rushed to you, taking your hands in his; concern riddled his face— a rare sight. Guilt washed over you as you looked up into his eyes; you opened your mouth to speak, but he started before you.

"You alright?" he asked, looking you up and down. Dirt had stained the hem of your skirt, and your eyes were tired; his frown grew as he looked you over. You wrapped your arms around him, pressing your head to his chest and nodding.

"Wasn't gonna go, just needed to get away for a while," you murmured into his chest. Rubbing your back soothingly, he exhaled with soft, relieved laughter. One arm still around you, he gently tilted your head to meet his gaze with his free one.

"Don't you go walking out on us. Least without tellin' me first."

You agreed with a quick bob of your head, and he pulled your chin in towards his, kissing you on the mouth. He withdrew and gestured to the bench you'd risen from earlier; you both sat. Arthur wrapped a big arm around you, and you buried your face into his shoulder.

"That woman hates me," you grumbled with a pout. Arthur squeezed you closer, and a faint grin formed on his lips.

"Nah, she never liked any girl I brought around. Give her more time." He scratched his chin thoughtfully. "It's all outta love, I think," he concluded. You huffed at that, disbelieving.

"She got a funny way of showing it."

"Sure," he chuckled again. He sat for another minute before gently nudging you off his shoulder. Grabbing your bag and standing, he asked, "So you gonna come back with me?"

You tried to sulk but couldn't when he was standing there waiting patiently with his hand out. You finally relented.

"Fine, but I ain't just gonna take it next time," you declared, taking his hand. A big smile stretched across his face.

"You ain't gotta do nothing you don't wanna. If any of those fools have a problem with it, send 'em to me." You made your way out of the train station, hand in hand. You paused, gazing at him with a quirked eyebrow.

"I can handle myself just fine, Arthur Morgan." Another chuckle built up in him as he threw your bag on the horse. He turned to kiss the top of your head before grabbing you by the waist and lifting you up on the horse.

"I know, darlin'."

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #arthur morgan #rdr2 arthur #rdr2 photography #rdr2 community #read dead redemption 2 photography #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan fic #arthur morgan fluff #zaefic

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actually-safer-to-kiss · 1 year

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Making a Move

Summary: Spencer's been seeing someone new, and the last thing he wants is to mess this up

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff

Word count: 1.8k

Hotch called a meeting over the phone, and the team is waiting for him and Rossi at the Roundtable. In the meantime, everyone else has made their stops at the coffee machine, Spencer included. He was having his second cup (the first one was from his apartment), but he didn’t need the team to know that. Although not as romantic as expected, his late night was worth the extra yawns and blurred vision. He’d rather the team not know about that too.

“What’s got you so tired, kid?”

Too late.

Morgan fiddles with a pen between his fingers. As he asks, his eyebrow arches; he’s ready for an answer. His question brings everyone’s eyes to him.

“Nothing,” Spencer says.

“Nothing?” He knows that’s not it. The pact to not profile each other basically ended before it started. “Cause this is the third time in the past two weeks you’ve come in here yawning like every ten seconds.”

“It’s nothing. Maybe I need more coffee.”

Garcia pokes her head up from behind her laptop. “You never have more than one cup of coffee at the office unless you really need it.” She’s still typing while looking at him. “You don’t even suggest it. Until now.” Typing halts, and Spencer sees the realization in her eyes. He knows he can’t stop the tide from coming. “Ooo, what’s his name?”

“It’s not a guy.” Spencer sips his coffee, sugar granules sliding over his tongue as he swallows.

“So it’s a girl.” Prentiss butts in with a smirk.

Spencer rubs his hand on his forehead.

“It is!” Garcia unleashes a squeal. “Okay, what’s her name?” Her magenta nails are out like a cat exposing its claws, and Spencer knows she’s prepared to start a free background check.

“He’s not going to tell us,” Prentiss says.

“What about her job? What does she do?”

A kindergarten teacher. “Not saying that either,” Spencer replies.

“Well, has anything happened between you two?” Morgan joins back in.

Just hello and goodbye hugs.

“Guys,” J.J. calls. She’s standing by the projector, remote in hand. “It’s Spence’s business. He’ll tell us when he wants to. Okay?” She uses her mom voice, and Spencer wouldn’t be surprised if the following words out of her mouth were, “If I hear another word about this, you’re all grounded.” It’s comforting, even though he knew she’d have his back.

Sighs of disappointment and protest around the table were not subtle, but they were as close to a verbal “okay” as she was getting. J.J. accepts it anyway and eventually takes a seat. Garcia leans over and asks about Hotch and Rossi, likely regarding where they could be. Spencer wonders the same thing; so they can get started.

And because Morgan keeps staring at him. He’s eager for Spencer to spill. He even leans over. “Seriously, kid, nothing?”

“I’m not afraid to tattle,” Spencer whispers back. He finds his book, The Life of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. He read it a couple days ago, yet opened a page and busied himself with the paperback. Morgan’s eyes are still staring. He’s not letting this go, even if this briefing led to the jet. Spencer makes the mistake of looking back at him for a moment, and he has no choice. He turned the page of his book and mumbled, “I want something to happen, though.” He bites his lips closed when the words finally leave them.

Spencer’s opened the door, welcoming Morgan and his sleazy smile. Something he — hell — that they’ve all seen and grown too familiar with at bars and clubs. “Alright, that’s what I like to hear.” He shakes Spencer’s bony shoulder. “My man.”

Spencer can’t help but grin, not in response, but because of last night. He was worried you’d consider him cheap or creepy for choosing to watch a movie at his apartment instead of the theater. He was hoping to make a move. Spencer thought you looked so cozy in your polka-dot sweater; he wished he could reach out and touch the material. It looked so soft. But all the mistakes he made might’ve ruined the chance for that.

“What’d you do?” Morgan whispers.

“I sat too far away at first. I tried moving closer but… I didn’t want to come off as weird. Then I excused myself to get some water, but then it still didn’t feel right and —”

“So you chickened out?”

“I didn’t chicken out.”

He chickened out.

“Okay, well, it’s good you’re not all over her. You’re giving her space and showing her respect. But Reid,” He ruffles his hair. Spencer smiles, and it’s the only thing that keeps J.J. from giving a lecture. “You’ve been on three dates. She likes you, man. She’s probably waiting.”

“But what if she —”

“She does. And you need to go in knowing that and display some confidence. When are you seeing her again?”

“Tonight. We’re getting ice cream.” Spencer tries to suppress his lips curling. It doesn’t work.

“See. Now let me give you some pointers.”

It’s been a while since Spencer’s built such a natural rapport with someone, especially someone in a field furthest away from the grim glimpses of humanity he sees.

He surprised you with a visit during your lunch last week. The vibrant colors in your wardrobe match your classroom. The walls covered in handmade decorations and class-made crafts are a refreshing difference from the dark basements and fluorescent-lit interrogation rooms. The light in your eyes when discussing your students is something Spencer doesn’t get to see often, and he didn’t want to lose it by moving too fast.

Displaying confidence was something that came naturally to Morgan. “Displaying” didn’t feel honest, Spencer thought, more like a front. Then again, that’s what all displays really were. Spencer’s only known how to be himself. Morgan does have a point, though. He’s already been on three dates. So being himself has worked so far. But he’s sure he needs a little more.

On the walk to the agreed-upon spot, Spencer grips the strap of his satchel as he trudges uphill. It helps him burn off the nervous energy as he gets closer. But when he sees you sitting at one of the outdoor tables, he’s reminded again why he should be. You’re wearing a flowy yellow dress and white tennis shoes. The one difference from last night is the ends of your hair, brunette roots leading to dark pink ends.

You stand up and start walking toward him, beaming already. “Hey!” Your arms are already out, and you hug. Spencer notes you smell like coconut.

“Hey, you,” He tries to make it sound natural. His hand lingers at your waist for a second. “Your hair,” That same hand touches the ends. “It’s pretty.” He smiles, taking in your individuality. He thinks about how much you and Garcia would get along.

“Thank you,” your brightness radiates as you giggle. “It’s the most I can get away with at school, so I figured I might as well push the limits while I can. Plus, the kids love it.”

Spencer’s brain immediately goes to statistics about school dress codes and how they likely change the following year. He holds back. Morgan’s taught him that sharing statistics can apparently kill the mood. He even reminded him before Spencer left (early). “I’m sure they do.”

Your eyebrows quirk. “You okay?”

“Yeah, doll, I’m fine.” He tries again, but it’s taking everything for him not to cringe in front of you.

“No, you’re acting weird.” You cross your arms.

“Am I?” Spencer’s chest tightens.

“Oh yeah.” You snicker. “What’s up? Tell me about it.”

Spencer doesn’t exactly know how to say, “I really like you but I’m terrified of messing this up so I’m attempting to put on a terrible impression of a macho man because I want to kiss you and I feel like being myself isn’t going to get me anywhere” in a form that’s going to sound coherent and not like a crazy ramble that ends in you running away. So he doesn’t say it at all.

“Spencer,” You reach out to hold his hand. “You can tell me.”

“I…” He feels like he’ll stumble over his words before he gets a sentence out. He looks at you, and your grip tightens a little. He returns the gesture. “I don’t want to mess this up.”

“Mess what up exactly?”

“Well, this.” He moves his hand where his thumb is on top. “I like you a lot.”

“Oh, well, I like you too!” You say. “We’re on the same page there. So how could you mess this up?”

“Because I don’t know how to make the first move. I don’t want to push you.” The wind blows, and both of you push hair out of your faces, and Spencer tries not to lose his thoughts. “I even let one of my coworkers give me pointers on how to be… smoother.”

You try hard not to laugh, but it slips out, and the insecurity on Spencer’s face spreads. “Is this the one you told me about? Dirk Morgan?”

“Derek Morgan. But, yeah, him.”

“Okay, Doctor,” You step closer, and now both your hands lead up to his biceps. Spencer cautiously moves his hands to your waist. He’s hesitant about public displays of affection, but you started it, and he won’t be the one to end it so soon. “I’m going to bring you into my field for a minute. I’m assigning you a pop quiz.”

Spencer’s mouth quirks a little, wondering where this is going.

“I have no doubt you’ll ace it.”

“I’m usually good at acing things. Exams, tests, quizzes.”

“Good. It’s one question: am I dating Derek Morgan?” Your thumbs glided back and forth against his cardigan.

“Are we dating?”

“We’ve been on dates. Therefore: dating.”

“Then, no, you are not dating Derek Morgan.”

“Congratulations, Dr. Reid, you got a 100.” You push yourself up on your toes to kiss him gently. You both pause for a moment. His hands trail to your back as yours glide to hang on his neck. His breath is extra minty for six in the evening, and it made you realize that was the move he wanted to make. “Feel better? Now that that’s out of the way?”

Spencer leans in to kiss you again. His response is clear when he pulls you in to make it deeper, but still innocent. When you open your eyes, you can see the weight that’s been lifted, a weight you lifted.

“Next time you feel like making a move, you’re more than welcome to go for it. Okay? You have my permission to go for it.”

“What if I don’t know your boundaries?”

“Just ask.” You put your feet flat on the ground, but other than that, neither of you moves or shifts eye contact. “Spencer, I like you the way you are. You don’t need some sort of smooth rhetoric to make me fall further for you.”

Spencer, once again, fails to hide the smirk as it grows. “You’ve… fallen for me?”

“Is that okay?”

“Yeah.” He says quickly. “It’s more than okay.”

Thank you for all the love from the last fic. I'm glad so many of you liked it 🥹 For anyone curious, I don't have a schedule. I just write and upload when I have something. I'm focusing on getting back into writing so feel free to send oneshot ideas if you have any. Thanks again 🩵

“Good. Now let’s get ice cream.”

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mentally-a-slut · 1 month

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Three Days (Arthur Morgan x Fem! Reader) (SMUT)

Anddddd here we are! Part two of 'Staring Problem'! This can be read as a stand alone, but if you want a suggestive lead up, then go read part one! I tried my best with this one, but I haven't written explicit smut like this in a long time, so go easy on me! Writing this also reminded me that I loathe writing in second person, so from here on out I think I'll either do first or third. I won't bore you with details here, but I'll put up a separate post updating y'all on some stuff. Anyway, enjoy, and please leave feedback! Silent readers are appreciated but leaving comments helps me get motivated to continue! Even just a one word comment or an emoji helps! - Azi >:)

Summary: Arthur's been gone on a job for three days, which isn't a new development. However, a new development in your relationship just before he left leave you wanting. But fear not, as your troubles will be soon solved!

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: unprotected PinV sex, smut, oral (f receiving), overall filth, reader is female, unedited (sorry), probably OOC Arthur but we're here for dick not character analysis!

You had always hated when Arthur went away on jobs, but ever since he left you hanging, your distaste for his long absences had grown.

You hadn't seen the man in three days, only getting a parting kiss and a heavy, heated promise as a farewell. The first day he was gone, you were mostly in awe of what had happened, wistfully going about your day and daydreaming of things to come.

The second day left you a little frustrated, the ache for him only growing with his absence. The other girls had noticed too, only making you more irritable as they teased you relentlessly for your obvious attitude change.

The third day was when you started to get worried. He'd been gone on longer jobs than this before, but you still couldn't help the nervous bouncing of your leg as you sat across from Tilly, trying to busy yourself with patching up some clothes.

"I'm sure he's fine. He's been gone much longer than this before."

Your lips contorted into a line, eyebrows knitted as you shook off the pain of the needle piercing the soft pad of your thumb. "I know. Just miss him, I guess."

Tilly just smiled and let you work in silence alongside her.

Arthur had gone to rob some stagecoach close to Emerald Ranch, along with Javier and Micah. You trusted Javier to help bring him back safely, but the addition of Micah made you nervous. He had a reputation of losing his cool and endangering the lives of everyone in a five mile radius.

Abigail had been very helpful the last couple of days. She understood every minor shift in your demeanor in the time he was gone. John was no stranger to long jobs, so Abigail knew exactly how it felt to sit idle while the men were out in danger.

John tried to be helpful, saying things about how Arthur had been bled half to death before and still made it back alive, but that only made things worse. You appreciated the effort, though.

It was getting close to evening now, the light of the sun slowly disappearing behind the horizon. You tried not to feel disappointed, knowing that if they were on the way back, they would likely stop and make camp for another night before arriving. Riding at night was never good unless they were on the way to a job. Riding back during the day was safer, and helped them keep an eye out for any witnesses or general hinderances along the way.

Just as you were about to resign yourself to your lonely bedroll for the night, the sound of rumbling hooves shook the ground under your feet.

You whipped your head around to see three healthy horses slowing to a walk near the hitch posts, each one carrying an upright, unharmed figure. You silently cursed the fact that Micah had made it back alive, but figured it was too much to hope that you'd get Arthur back and get rid of Micah in one day.

You didn't care what it looked like to the others, throwing all cares out as you rushed over to greet the man that had been haunting your thoughts for the last three days. He was just finishing up tying his big black shire to the post, taking the weight off his horse for the night, when you tackled him into a hug.

He stumbled slightly, your arms wrapping tightly around his waist as he snaked an arm around yours to steady himself. His breath tickled the top of your head as he chuckled. "Miss me?"

You scoffed and pulled your head from his chest, still gripping the sides of his jacket as you looked up at him. "You were gone three days!"

He smiled down at you and pulled you back against him, settling his other hand to cradle your head against his chest. "I missed you too, sweetheart."

All of a sudden, he withdrew, his eyes landing on the man a few feet away that was tending to his horse. "Javier!"

He turned. "Yeah, Arthur?"

"Tell Dutch me and my lady are goin' on a little vacation for a while, will ya?"

Javier nodded with a smirk, and you shrieked as Arthur lifted you onto his horse without warning. He followed shortly after, kicking his horse into a fast walk as a few wolf whistles resounded from camp.

You held onto his waist tightly as he sped up. "Where are we goin'?"

"Just into town."

"What are we gonna do there so late at night?"

You felt more than heard his responding chuckle. "Get a room."

"Oh. Oh."

The excitement that tingled through your body was electric, buzzing the whole ride there.

~~~~~~

You would have flustered at the knowing look on the hotel receptionist's face if you had been at all aware of anything but Arthur.

Arthur thanked the man before leading you up the stairs to the room, his large hand gripping yours the whole way there. You expected him to jump straight into action the second the door closed behind you, but instead his strong arms pulled you into a hug.

His arms encircled you and pressed you against him as he nestled his face into your neck. The vibration of his words against your neck sent sparks through your body straight to your core. "Thought about you the whole time."

You sighed into him, holding onto his as if he would disintegrate upon letting go. He only pulled back to gently tilt your chin up, pressing a sweet kiss against your lips.

The kiss was so soft, so filled with emotion, his fingers brushing lovingly across your cheek as your lips molded together. You were the one to lean into it, chapped lips parting and teeth nipping lightly at him.

The responding noise from him fueled your desire more, the desperate groan making your whole body ache for his touch. His hands moved from your waist to your hips, fingers bunching up in the fabric of your shirt as he fought your tongue with his.

When his rough fingers brushed against the bare skin of your waist, you whined into the kiss, arching into him. He chuckled against your lips, brushing his hands even further up your shirt and coming to a stop just under your tits.

You broke the kiss just for a moment to lift your shirt over your head, discarding it wildly behind you. You yelped as he lifted you and spun you around, walking you backwards towards the bed. You tugged him down on top of you, slipping a hand under his shirt to feel to ripples of muscle on his chest and stomach.

"Arthur," you whined, tugging at his shirt. He got the hint, discarding his shirt before meeting your lips again. His kiss was rougher this time, wet and messy as he took in the feeling of your body against his. You brought your legs up to circle around his waist, and you whimpered when he pressed his hips forward against yours, his hardened cock straining against his pants.

You tangled your hands in his hair, tugging lightly. He squeezed your hips in response, kissing down your neck and nipping at the skin on your chest.

His hands snaked around your back, undoing your bra without even pausing. He broke the kiss only when he pulled the straps down, revealing your chest to the open air. Your first instinct was to cover yourself, but he didn't even give you the chance.

You didn't have the brain capacity to be embarrassed at the sound that came out of you when he took a nipple into his mouth, gripping the other with his large hand. He groaned against you, his erection brushing against you. He was growing harder by the second, the mere sight of you arousing him intensely.

His unoccupied hand stroked down your stomach, slipping two fingers in the waistband of your pants. You nodded and begged desperately, writhing against him. "Please! Please, Arthur..."

He moved his lips to your other nipple, quickly unbuttoning your pants and ridding you of both them and your panties in one movement. His lips separated from your chest as he moved up to you, staring into your eyes with intense lust. "I'm gonna get you ready, baby, that okay?"

Your heart swelled with emotion, only intensifying your desire. Even when he was desperate with lust, he looks at you with such caring, always making sure your okay. "Yes, yes, please!"

He smiled at you before kissing you sweetly, slowly kissing down your body. You whined as his hot breath brushed your core, your head tilting up to look at him between your legs.

His eyes glittered with amusement as they met yours, a teasing finger brushing your inner thigh. It was so close to where you needed it, but so far. "You're a tease."

He chuckled, "Can't help it when you look so pretty beggin' for me."

You threw your head back and groaned, half in frustration and half in arousal. Your noise quickly shifted to a whine when he suddenly slid a finger across you folds, head fuzzy with pleasure. "So wet already. All for me, sweetheart?"

You groaned and nodded, hips shifting towards him in an attempt to get him to do it again. "Ah, use your words."

Your words were half whimpered. "Yes! All for you, only for you, please!"

"Good girl."

He swiped his finger through your folds again, this time teasing his fingertip around your aching entrance. You bucked against him when his thumb brushed against your clit, breathing coming out in short, whiny sighs. "Please."

"Whatever you say, baby."

You moaned as a finger slid into you, his thumb pressing harder against your clit. Before you could complain at the lose of stimulation when he removed his thumb, his lips connected and sucked harshly. Your moans were surely loud enough to be heard, but the pleasure that wracked your body was so overwhelming you couldn't bring yourself to care.

His finger slowly moved in and out, brushing against your sensitive walls as his tongue assaulted your clit. You tangled a hand in his hair, tugging harder than you intended. He groaned against you, making a jolt of pleasure shoot through you.

The stretch of another finger was added, making you cry out. It wasn't enough to be painful, just enough to make you stretch around him so deliciously. He pulled his lips off of you and looked down at you, eyes hungrily watching as your cunt swallowed up his fingers. You looked down at him, lips parted with pleasure as he worked his fingers inside you. "More."

He glanced up at you with a smirk, slipping in a third finger. It sent a small jolt of discomfort through you, but it was quickly overwhelmed with pleasure as the third finger pressed against the most sensitive parts of your walls. "Oh, fuck, Arthur!"

"Feel good, huh?"

"Yes! Please, please, I'm gonna cum!"

He sped up, his fingers pumping in and out of your relentlessly. He leaned back in to swirl his tongue against your clit, which made you walls start spasming around him. Your thighs tensed, threatening to close around him, but he pulled back and held your legs open.

"Go on, baby, I wanna see your pretty face when you cum."

You couldn't form any words as his fingertips curled inside you and prodded against you in a way that made you see stars. His encouraging words only pushed you closer and closer.

"Good girl, doin' so good for me." You moaned and clenched around his fingers, muscles spasming as the dam broke. Your eyes rolled back into your head as you came, short, whiny moans escaping your lips as he fingered you through it.

With a gentle kiss against your clit that made you twitch, he pulled his fingers out of you and rose to look at you. You forced your eyes open, smiling breathlessly up at him. "You okay?"

You couldn't help but laugh, pulling him in for a passionate kiss. "More than okay. That was amazing."

He smiled and kissed you again, slow and loving. You knew you could tell him you were done for the night and he would agree in a heartbeat, not even caring about his own unresolved desires. But his sweet kiss only fueled another spark, already tingling through your body. His moaned against your lips as you arched against him, legs moving to wrap around his waist and pull him against you.

He pulled away with a raised eyebrow. "You're a needy one, aren't you?"

"Only for you."

You pulled him back down, kissing him roughly and pressing your hands all over his bare skin. His hips bucked forward when you tugged at his waistband, his desperation shining through even when he tried to stifle it.

You pushed him back, catching him off guard and shoving him onto the bed. He chuckled and shifted further back, letting you swing your leg across his hips and straddle him. You leaned down to kiss down his neck, smiling at the soft murmurs of content as you nipped at his collarbone.

You reached between the two of you, unbuttoning his jeans and shoving them down. He helped you and kicked them the rest of the way off, leaving him in only his boxers. You stared down at the bulge that strained against the white fabric, a wet spot of pre cum soaking a part of it. You looked down at him with a proud smile. "I do that to you?"

His hands slid up your thighs and caressed you hips. "You do so much to me. More than you could ever imagine."

You leaned down to kiss him, pouring all your emotions of admiration and lust into it. His hands moved to your ass, squeezing as he groaned against your lips. Your hips pressed down against his. sending a shock of pleasure through you as your clit brushed against his clothed bulge.

He would have been content to kiss you like that forever, but you were growing more and more desperate with each touch. You slid your fingers into his boxers without breaking the kiss, gently stroking his cock. His reaction spurred you on, and you pushed his boxer down to release him.

You marveled at his size as he helped you discard his underwear, leaving him fully bare underneath you. He was thick, and longer than anyone else you'd ever had. Your hand continued to slowly stroke up and down his shaft, thumb smearing the beads of precum around him. You were transfixed on him, lost in the feeling of his soft skin against your palm.

"Fuck, baby, as pretty as you look doin' that, I don't wanna cum just yet."

You slowed your movements to a stop and looked up at him with a soft smile. The admiration you felt for the man beneath you was overwhelming, and you didn't know if you could ever truly explain to him how much he meant to you.

You slowly moved to kiss him again, soft and sweet. You let your hips relax against his, smirking as his hips shifted under you to gain friction. You moved your hips against his shaft, your cunt dragging against him. You continued grinding on him, breathing growing heavier as the tip of his cock teased at your entrance with each movement.

After a few more seconds of torturing him, you lifted your hips and gripped his cock, prodding him against you entrance. Before you moved, you pulled away from his kiss, sitting up and placing a hand on his chest for balance. He groaned as he looked up at you, poised above his cock, cunt dripping with anticipation.

Emotion shone in his eyes, gaze still so loving even when clouded with lust. With a sigh, you lowered yourself slightly, taking his tip inside. You knew it was going to be a stretch, so you had to restrain yourself and take it slow.

He groaned at the sight of your cunt swallowing him, even just the tip of him. You held his gaze as you lowered another two inches, fingers gripping his chest at the slight stretch. Soon, his hands gripped your hips tightly as he helped you sink down all the way, clit brushing against him as you were finally fully seated against his pelvis.

Your eyes were dark with lust, cunt clenching around his cock as you adjusted. His eyes flickered over you, rapidly moving between your joined bodies, your heaving chest, and your face. "So perfect. Take me so well."

His words spurred you to move, lifting your hips slightly and moaning sweetly as you sank back down. The pain of the stretch had completely disappeared, replaced with a blinding pleasure. You rolled your hips a few more times before rising further, speeding up.

His hands held your hips tightly, his thighs tensing as he tried to hold himself back. "Fuck, sweetheart, look at you. Swallowing me up like that."

His words only increased your desire, your hips rising and falling faster, legs lifting you further off his cock. His moaned as he stuttered out praises, hands tightening on your hips as you rose fully off him and slammed back down again. Your pace increased, his length filling you up perfectly and brushing against the sensitive spots within you.

You struggled to hold yourself as you got closer and closer, pace faltering. You whined, every breath coming out as a soft moan. "You're doin' so good baby, want me to take over?"

You managed a messy nod, and his hips immediately rose up to meet yours, hands moving your hips up and down on him. You threw your head back as your cunt spasmed, orgasm coming down hard and fast. "I'm- fuck! Gonna cum!"

"Go 'head baby, I've got you."

With his words, you moaned with your release, his cock still pounding into you as you rode it out. Your senses were fuzzy, everything covered in a blanket of pleasure. You didn't even realize he had flipped you over, your head against the soft pillow. As your vision cleared, you looked up at him, blissful smile on your face.

"You did so good, honey, think you can gimme another?"

You nodded blearily, spreading your legs further as he continued thrusting into at a ruthless pace. You were building up to another one fast, barely even recovered from your previous one. His hand rested against your throat, grounding you but not squeezing. "So gorgeous, my pretty girl. Look so good stuffed full of my cock."

You moaned pathetically, hands going up to hold his face and grip his hair. "You feel so good, Arthur, I- I love how you make me feel."

He groaned in response, slamming into your cunt even faster. "So tight for me, gonna make me cum. Where d'ya want me?" He struggled to get the question out, his voice stammering through moans.

"Inside. Fill me up, Arthur."

His hand tightened around your throat for a moment at your words, and he moaned loudly. "Fuck, you're gonna kill me."

His movements grew sloppier, fingers pressing against your throat as he pressed his lips to yours in a messy kiss. With a few more thrusts, your own orgasm came to a head, only slightly preceding his.

His groaned against your lips and your walls clenched around him, his cum painting your insides as you milked him. He fucked you through it, kiss growing softer as he slowed to a stop. He stilled inside you, pulling back to look in your eyes.

You looked back at him, lips curled into a soft smile as he rested his forehead against yours. He pulled out carefully, planting a sweet kiss on your lips to distract you from any discomfort.

He shifted to lay next to you, turning his head to look at you. "You okay?"

You smiled and looked at him. "With you? Always."

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #fem!reader #rdr2 x reader #red dead redemption 2 #smut #arthur morgan smut #rdr2 #rdr2 arthur #red dead redemption #rdr2 smut #female reader #afab reader #one shot #part 2 #part two #azi's creations

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ynbabe · 6 months

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Fake texts au- pt.12 bffs with the rookies+ Monaco for one, please!

Literally love the way anyone older than them has to be the babysitter 😭😭😭

| Masterlist |

The week you spent with Oscar and Logan was perfect in every way possible. You woke up with perhaps the worst backache you'd ever had, almost unable to breathe because Logan had shited his entire weight on you... well, that part wasn't perfect but the dinner you had afterwards made up for every ache and pain.

Oscar's mum made every favourite dish of yours and Logans, leaving a very jealous Oscar but at the end of the day, the three of you fell into the same routine you did as kids.

Sleeping late, Waking up even later and eating junk till you couldn't eat anymore (much to the dismay of their trainers) the only different thing is that all three of you couldn't bunk on the same bed. So you took turns, as suggested by Oscar's mother because your first idea was to fight for a spot on the bed.

But sadly, the week had ended and you had to leave, you hugged Logan and Oscar goodbye and made your way to Monaco, where you'd spend the rest of the summer vacation with Arthur.

He'd invited you not wanting to be alone while his brothers had their girlfriends and the last time he'd invited one of his friends from Prema, his mom had pulled him aside and given him the 'you know you can tell me anything, right, son?' he'd simply told her that he was just a friend, and anyways she should have been having the conversation with Charles anyway, with whatever he had going with Max, or with Carlos or Pierre.

You were a little nervous to go, never having been around his family before. You'd met Charles before and had become pretty good friends with him and Max but his mom? His Eldest brother? That was a whole other story.

He picked you up at the airport, drove you to the house, you offered to uber as you weren't allowed to drive in Monaco anymore (its a long story) when you walked in you hadn't realised everyone would be over and were currently on Arthur's back trying to get your phone back for the boy, which he had stolen when he saw the picture of you and Logan, oscar had sent you.

You looked around the room to find Charles, his girlfriend, his eldest brother, and their mother, staring at the two of you with wide eyes.

You jumped off your friends' back, snatching your phone in the process, "Um, hi, I'm Y/n, nice to meet you all!" You smiled hugging Charles and shaking hands with everyone else, trying to ignore your entrance.

"I'll go get the bags, yeah," he muttered as he left, his eldest brother following him.

"Maman, C'est une amie d'Arthur, celle dont je t'ai parlé," (Mom, She's one of Arthur's friends, the one I told you about), Charles said something to his mother in French, you tried to decipher with whatever Arthur had taught you over the years but they spoke too fast.

"Celui qui l'a emmené faire la fête?" (The one who took him to party?) She replied, her voice displaying disappointment, making the girl awkwardly standing next to the door frown at Charles for translation.

"Maman..." Charles began but his mother shushed him, making him look down.

Suddenly, the older woman's face and body language changed, doing a total 180, "Y/n, I've heard a lot about you, from Arthur and Charles!" She said with a smile, making the girl slightly jump in surprise, "Come on, sit, the boys will get your bags," she invited the youngest woman to sit and nodded at Charles to help get the bags, he wanted to protest but was nudged in the ribs by Alexandra, making him walk out in betrayal.

"Uh, hi guys," she said awkwardly feeling a little out of place. She felt like she was in front of a jury assessing her every move to give her life in prison and by the look on the mother's face, they were leaning in favour of the death penalty.

"Hi, Y/n," Alexandra began, quickly leaning forward as soon as her boyfriend left the house, " I've seen you around the paddock before, but mostly in Mclaren and Williams," She began, "I thought you were dating Oscar, right? Or Logan?" She asked making the girl cringe, she couldn't imagine dating one of her friends.

"Um, no, we're just friends, all four of us," she explained, this is so weird.

"And what about the hyper little British one?" Pascale asked making you laugh,

"Lando? I'm going to save his name like that from now on!" You smiled, "No, no, not at all, I think he's a little too invested in Carlos to even think about dating," you joked hoping to change the conversation, Alexandra smiled but Pascale remained unchanged.

"I've noticed, he's a sweet boy," she nodded, "Are you dating my son?" She asked, not sugarcoating anymore, making you choke on your spit, Alexandra quickly rushed to your side, patting your back.

"Thank you," you took the glass of water she offered, "I'm not dating Arthur!" You yelled as soon as you finished drinking the water, making his mother look at you suspiciously at first then nod.

"Thank you for being truthful Y/n," She began, "My kids are everything to me and they only have me to protect them. Lorenzo and Charles are old enough to understand just how cruel life can be, but Arthur's still naive," she explained slowly. It seemed like Alex had heard the same lecture too.

"Maman! Tell Charlie to stop kicking me!" Arthurs's voice rang as the trio stepped inside, proving her point.

"Maman, please, both of them won't shut up!" Lorenzo complained at his brother's antics, in true older sibling fashion.

"Only because you are stupid," Both Arthur and Charles replied at the same time making the eldest groan and place your bag down, to swat the others. Charles had your duffle and Arthur held your haversack, currently using it as a weapon to hit his brothers.

"Boys!" Their mother called out, making them all stop and pick up your bags, and carry them to some room in the house. Alexandra smiled at their antics and Pascale just shook her head.

"Sweetheart, come on, let's have some dinner, I'm sure the flight has you hungry and tired," She practically dragged you to the dinner table. You sat next to Arthur, Alex and Charles in front of you and Lorenzo and Pascle and either head of the table.

After the strange test of sorts, everything was normal, you joked along with the others, and the brothers often fought making you and Alex look at each other and laugh. You were getting along with her the most, being quite close in age and humour. However, as the night continued the jet lag became more and more of a problem.

Arthur was the first to notice your head falling as you sat, "Maman, We are going to turn in," you both began to get up but Lorenzo spoke up, making you stop.

" Où penses-tu aller?" (Where do you think you're going?) The older man asked.

"Ma chambre ?" (My room?) Arthur answered.

"Non, elle couche avec Alexandra, tu restes avec Charlie," (No, she's sleeping with Alexandra, you're staying with Charlie) He replied making both brothers angry.

They started talking over each other, yelling and shouting, you definitely made out more than one curse word. You looked over at Alex silently asking if she knew what was happening, but she just shrugged.

"You're so annoying, Lorenzo, Je jure devant Dieu que j'aurai une chambre d'hôtel !" (I swear to God I will get a hotel room!) He screamed making everyone quiet down.

"Don't yell at me, it was maman's idea," he looked at his brothers a little guiltily, making everyone look towards the eldest woman on the table.

"It's okay, Charlie, reste avec ta petite amie, Arthur soit avec ton ami." (Charlie, stay with your girlfriend, Arthur be with your friend.) Everyone seemed to be okay with the decision, though you didn't know what the decision was.

Arthur patted your shoulder, making you get up and follow him to his room. As soon as you walked in you kicked your shoes off, falling face-first on the soft king-sized bed. He followed suit, dropping himself on the opposite end of the bed, and turning his head to face you.

"I don't think your brother and mum like me very much, Princie," You spoke in a soft voice, too tired to even sit up.

"Nah, they are just over-protective," he answered, his voice nothing but a whisper.

Slowly your eyes drifted shut, letting yourself succumb to sleep.

"Bonne nuit, chérie."

Taglist: @dark-night-sky-99 @cashtons-wife @i-wish-this-was-me @thehufflepuffavenger1 @eugene-emt-roe @fangirl-dot-com @landosgirlxoxo @aquangxl @sachaa-ff @tyna-19 @assholeinatrenchcoat

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tackytigerfic · 4 months

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WIP Snip

Nearly finished this fic, final extended scene is a go atm. In this snippet, Harry has just arrived unexpectedly at the Manor where Draco is undercover pretending to be a Death Eater. CW for wandpoint confessions and mild angst.

Draco’s eyes narrowed but he put his hand inside his robe and then, quicker than Harry could have hoped to notice, Draco had his wand out and was holding it to Harry's throat, pressing hard so the wood bit into the tender skin under his jawline. "You are Harry, I suppose? You seem right, of course, but there’s always a chance that someone enterprising might come along with a stash of Polyjuice and a gift for impersonation.” “Oh, fuck off,” Harry managed, and the point of Draco’s wand wormed slowly deeper into flesh. “You knew it was me the second you saw me.” “Mmm, I suppose that’s true,” Draco murmured agreeably, something suggestive about how the sound travelled through the small space between them. His free hand strayed to Harry’s forehead and he brushed his fingers lightly over the dried blood that Harry could feel tightening on the skin there. “But indulge me. Tell me something only you would know.” Harry scoffed, though he was thinking with his throat tight of Arthur knocking at the door of the Burrow in the middle of the night long ago, and Molly blushing, and how they had exposed the long intimacy of their marriage for safety's sake. “There’s a lot I could tell you,” he said tightly. “If you’re really sure you want to hear it.” “By all means,” Draco said, eyes on Harry, searching for something in his face. “You fucked me in that bed and afterwards you asked me not to leave because you wanted to wake up with me? Remember?” Draco wanted to look towards the bed, Harry could tell by the way his eyes flickered, but he resisted, and so Harry went on. “You told me you wanted us to win this war just so you could take me back to London and feed me my favourite ice-cream off your spoon. You told me the only thing you miss about France is how you and your mum really got to know each other properly, and that when she gets back you want to take her for dinner to that little French bistro we went to that time in Edinburgh. I know you remember that, you said the wine was better than anything in the cellar here.” Draco nodded shortly, and almost regretfully pulled his wand away from Harry’s neck. He didn’t move away. “Yes, fair enough, I believe you.” But Harry couldn’t stop, didn’t know how to shut up now he had started. “The last time we were together, you told me that I’m generous with my love. Do you remember that? And I wondered then… because I’d never said it, had I? Not out loud, anyway. Neither of us had. But I thought, maybe— Maybe it meant that you knew.” Draco was staring, his eyes wide and shocked, a blush crawling up his neck, blotchy with heat. Neither of them moved, the silence between them growing until Harry could practically feel it. Draco almost raised his hand to Harry then; Harry sensed the arrested movement, the enforced stillness. He didn’t know what he’d do if Draco touched him. But he didn’t have to find out, because that’s when the knock at the door sounded.

Does anyone have a snippet they'd like to share? Consider yourself tagged and pls tag me so i can see as i've been off tumblr and i miss every single thing on here. And I'll no-pressure-tag @boxboxlewis @citrusses @fluxweeed @maesterchill @moonflower-rose @skeptiquex @sweet-s0rr0w @the-starryknight plus the FrotCotLot.

#tacky's fth #drarry #drarry wip snip #rowing and writing

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heartcereql · 10 months

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tommy shelby x finn's teacher!reader pt.2 || read pt.1 here

the sun was supposed to be setting at this time of the day. but, as you outstared at the skyline, you saw nothing but a silvery sky only getting darker.

usually, after a long day at school, exhausted by your students' behaviour, you went to an abandoned dock on the canal to watch the day fade into the night, hoping to relieve the tension of the day and to diminish the headache in your temple.

but it didn't seem like you were very lucky today, as the landscape was an ash-colored blur, clouds heavy. you turned your head to both sides, chasing sunlight, stars, anything. and that's when you saw a figure approaching.

dark coat, cigarette's smoke surrounding the shilouette, flat cap, confident stride. he was unmistakeable.

"mr shelby" you greeted. he shot you a glare and you remembered. "right- tommy."

he acknowledged you with a nod of his head, a cigarette dangling from his lips, icy blue eyes staring ahead at the horizon as he arrived by your side. you directed your eyes at the sun setting, too.

"i have seen the results of you staying true to your word and giving my suggestion a try", you hummed. "thank you"

you turned your body to face him, watching him exhale a cloud of smoke.

"turns out you were right, eh" he shrugged, taking a drag of smoke and exhaling it.

you gave him a small grin.

"but you still have to fulfill your part of the deal"

you tried to ignore the way your heart fluttered at his words, as you remembered what you had promised him. you had agreed to go for a drink with him.

"well, i am waiting for a proper invitation" you remarked, your tone playful.

"as the lady wishes. miss y/n, will you join me in this-" he paused, looking at the sky for a second. it was painted with dark clouds, auguring storm. "- in this bleak and unsurprisingly grey afternoon for a drink at the garrison?"

you smiled at his words, having to bite your lip, preventing yourself to smile any wider.

"it'll be my pleasure" you replied, watching him drop the cigarette to the ground and stomp on it. "care to lead the way, mr shelby?"

he was about to correct you when he noticed the mocking tone in your voice and the grin on your lips. he started walking, -

"what will it be?" tommy inquired.

the two of you had taken a seat besides the bar almost immediatly. the people had appeared to go silent for the slightest second, observing you, but then had quickly returned to their affairs.

your eyes explored the pub, resting delightfully on the golden details, scanning every detail. quite nice for the reputation that preceded it.

"whatever you're having" you answered, finally directing your gaze to him.

he raised his brows, not quite impressed but amused.

"it's strong"

"oh i'll be able to handle it"

he just gave you a smug smirk before ordering the barmaid another drink for you.

"so what is it?" you wondered as you stared curiously at the amberine drink.

"whisky. scotch." he sipped his drink as if it was water.

you copied his action, putting on your best efforts to suppress a face as you swallowed the stinging alcohol.

very soon, you were caught in the joyous mood of the garrison, establishing light conversation with tommy, mostly exchanging courtesy questions, drinking and sharing some laughs.

"i understand you own this pub" you brought up, voice louder than usual so tommy was able to hear you above all the noisy chattering and giddiness from the garrison.

"my brother. arthur."

"well it's a beautiful place. he must be proud." you complimented, downing the rest of your drink, trying not to grimace as it burnt down your throat. it sure was strong.

"aye, that he is" tommy took a swig of his drink as well. "how's it going with the kids?"

you frowned in confusion for an instant before realising he meant your students.

"they're alright. they get introuble, make fuss about everything, but then again, they're children. they're actually sweet when they want to."

"and how's finn doing?" his eyes locked on yours, unable to escape the others'.

"he's a bright kid, he really is. but he loses focus more often than not. he gets carried away. and then it's even more difficult to help him back on track. but i think he can do it." you informed, sending a sympathetic smile his way.

he only hummed, his reaction to your comment unreadable.

you decided not to ask how his own business was, knowing better than to pry on affairs that didn't concern you. instead you asked something else, something that would make him warm inside.

"finn mentioned you have horses. you race 'em, right? how're they?"

tommy's gaze immediately softened. though only the corners of his lips seemed to curl into a smile, he was beaming inside. you actually asked about his horses. not many people did. it was something he appreciated.

"alright, yeah. we got a new addition a couple of weeks back." he answered as he grabbed the bottle and refilled the glasses for the third time. "she's being trained now. great promise, that one. she's got a resistance quite difficult to find, an endurance rather auspicious. lot of potential."

he handed you the drink. you thanked him, head a bit fuzzy. but there was something about the way he spoke about horses. passion. you would've never guessed, not before getting to know the man, he could speak so fondly, so committed. you sipped the whisky, listening to tommy attentively.

the pub was cleared out by the time you two decided to leave. your head was spinning, groggy from the alcohol. you could barely contain your smile anymore.

but as you stepped outside, birmingham's weather hit you like a splash of cold water. literally.

“it’s raining!” you laughed. “fucking storming”

“here”

tommy unfolded a black umbrella, holding it your way. you scooted closer, under the protection of the umbrella. for a moment, neither tommy nor you moved, both standing under the ubrella. droplets of water splashed lightly as they fiercely hit the ground and already formed puddles.

"care to lead the way, miss y/l/n?" he repeated your words from earlier.

"where to?"

"your residence, of course", he replied. seeing you were still as confused, he clarified "you're not going home alone, in the rain and certainly not tipsy as you are"

you were taken aback from his stern but concerned demeanour. and how come he was not affected in the slightest from the drinking? were you really such a lightweight?

"okay then" you smiled up at him as you started walking your way through the dark streets of small heath, praying the man wouldn't notice the way your skin heat up when your arms brushed.

after what seemed like an eternity, you reached the disheveled door, once white, that led to your house. stepping into the porch, you now stood in front of him.

"thank you, thomas. for the walk, for the drink, for the talk, for talking to finn. and" you smiled, mostly to yourself, before continuing, "i had a really good time."

he silently nodded, also smirking.

"stay safe, y/n"

"you too"

you watched as he turned and walked off into the night, under his umbrella, with the stride you were getting so used to.

"wednesday evening" he called out as he walked away.

"what?" you exclaimed in disbelief. was he asking to meet again? not that you were complaining, or that it wasn't thrilling and making your stomach churn with eagerness; but you knew it was risky.

"be there"

he disappeared around a corner, and you shut the door quietly, resting against it, smiling like a schoolgirl.

#tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby #peaky blinders x reader #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy #heartcereql

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vivwritesfics · 16 days

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Jester Stole His Thorny Crown

Chapter Nine

He never had a choice in his life. His dreams were nothing more that that. Dreams. But then he met a lounge singer at his brother club and everything changed.

Mafia!Au

1.4K

Warnings: slightly suggestive but not really

Series Masterlist

Esteban Ocon was bringing her dinner. She hadn't met him before, but he'd been in the lounge once or twice. His height made him unmissable.

But why the hell was he bringing her dinner?

"Charles said to bring this to you," he said as he placed it on the table in front of her.

She stared at him for a moment, eyebrows raised. And then she leaned forward in her seat and checked inside of the bag. "Charles asked you to bring this to me?"

When he nodded, a grin lit up her face. "Holy fuck, that's so cute," she mumbled and pulled the food from the bag. "Where is he tonight, anyway?"

Esteban shrugged his shoulders. "Doing something for Lorenzo, I think."

It continued on in this manner for a few weeks. Charles would bring her dinner and, if he couldn't, Esteban would (she'd gotten to know Esteban pretty well since he started bringing her food. He was funny, somewhat easy to get along with).

But her favourite evenings were the ones with Charles. He'd get there early for his own piano lesson (could you call it a lesson if the piano ended up abandoned and she ended up on his lap?) and run out for food between her performances.

She'd developed a habit of running late for the second half of her performance. But Charles was just so convincing when his fingers were dancing to the side and hooking her underwear to the side.

But Arthur was starting to catch on. Arthur was starting to get annoyed.

It wasn't often he got to watch her perform. She might have been one of his best friends, sure, but he was a busy guy. But every time he'd been at a performance recently, they were behind schedule, by a lot.

He couldn't pretend he didn't see his brother making his way backstage between every performance. Plus, the lounge was getting more complaints than normal (which wasn't a lot of complaints, but Arthur was used to none).

It was a Thursday when he finally decided to follow his brother backstage. He saw the small pastry container Charles was carrying (because, face it, they couldn't have take out every single night) and followed him to the back rooms.

"Aha!"

It didn't have to be such a dramatic, "gotcha" moment. But Arthur was "French", everything he did was dramatic. "I knew it!"

They weren't even doing anything. But the two were still like deer caught in headlights, frozen as Charles went to open the pastry box.

"Arthur," she started. "What?"

He gestured to the two of them. "I knew it! I knew this!"

Her eyebrows were raised and she spared a look at Charles before turning her attention back to Arthur. "Knew that your brother sometimes brings me pastries as a way of thanking me for the piano lessons I've given him?"

Arthur's face dropped. "What? No," he insisted with a shake of his head. "I know about you two, I know that you're doing the nasty."

She repeated the words back to him, just so that he could hear how ridiculous they sounded.

As funny as keeping up this charade was, Charles was becoming bored. Not bored in the sense that he wanted to find something else to do. But why shouldn't Arthur know? The sooner Arthur knew, the sooner he could bring her around to meet his maman. Only good things could come from Arthur knowing, he thought.

So, Charles spoke up, interrupting them. "Would you be angry?" He asked his little brother. "If there was something happening between us?" His hand fell into her own and he laced their fingers together.

And suddenly, Arthur straightened up his posture. He'd expected Charles to like her, of course. But this was all happening very first. And it was affecting his business, and that was what really got to Arthur.

"You guys can do whatever you want," he said honestly, "but don't let it affect my lounge, or I'm kicking both your asses out of here." He checked the time on his watch. "Speaking of, you need to get back on stage."

She stood, held her hand to her head and saluted. "Yes sir," she said in jest.

Before she could run off to the stage, Charles had a gentle grip on her wrist. He used his free hand to tear a piece of the muffin away from the rest and held it up to her mouth. Gratefully, she took it. "Love you," she said through the mouthful as she fixed her makeup, but it came out more like 'wov oo'.

And, as she ran off to the stage, Charles sat back in his seat, staring at the door she had excited through. There was a certain amount of shock on his face as he ran his hands through his hair.

"Don't tell me that's the first time you guys have said it," Arthur mumbled as he sat down opposite his brother. The soft, melodic sounds of the piano filled the room.

Charles swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded. It had been a matter of weeks. God, a month and a half ago she'd been terrified of him. Surely she couldn't love him.

But that was what she'd said, wasn't it. She'd said she loved him. Why would she have said that if she hadn't?

"Well," Arthur began as he reached across the table for the rest of the muffin (he couldn't help but be surprised when Charles actually let him take it), "do you love her?"

It wasn't the most comforting thing Arthur could have said. But would telling Charles that she hadn't meant it romantically have made it worse or better? Either way, that wasn't what he said.

Charles didn't answer. He kept his head in his hands as he stared towards the door.

Arthur offered him a piece of muffin (of the muffin Charles had bought). "Relax, she won't be offended if you don't say it back."

"She won't?"

"Probably doesn't realise she's said it."

"She doesn't?"

Arthur gave his brother a sympathetic look. "Come on, let's get you a drink and watch the rest of the show."

***

He'd only had two drinks the night before. And Charles was grateful for that. He wouldn't have survived this meeting with Lorenzo without it.

"You want me to what?"

"Go to Italy," Lorenzo repeated.

For the life of him, Charles couldn't fathom why. The Leclerc family had deals in place with the Ferrari family ever since the first Monaco Grand Prix. They'd never crossed paths again. Not until now, anyway.

"If the Ferrari's think they can screw us over, they've got another thing coming," said Lorenzo. He threw a folder in Charles's direction, one Charles slid into the inside of his jacket.

The Ferrari's were car manufacturers, not a crime family. This might have been the easiest assignment of Charles's life. That was why he found himself running to her apartment, folder still tucked in his jacket.

The 'love you' incident hadn't played on his mind anymore since Arthur had calmed him down. It wasn't a romantic moment, so why should he overthink it? He knocked on the door and waited patiently, keenly aware that he was patient for nobody else.

And then, dressed in pyjamas, she pulled open the door. She barely got a 'good morning' out before Charles was on her, cupping her cheeks as he kissed her.

"Come with me to Italy," he said as he pulled away and pressed his forehead against her own.

Her eyes were lighting up from the very idea of it. "Seriously, Charles? You seriously want to take me to Italy?"

"Of course I do," he answered. "I can get Arthur to get someone in to cover at The Lounge, can get him to give you holiday pay and stuff. Just, let me take you away."

She didn't have to think about it much, did she. "Okay," she said, grin splitting across her face as she nodded. "Okay, yes, take me away, Charles Leclerc." She pushed him onto her sofa and pounced.

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