supertacodinosaurus

[supertacodinosaurus]

Already Gone {8} || MV1

Pairing: Max Verstappen x spy!fem!reader Summary: After a record smashing 2023 season it seems to be about to repeat as 2024 begins. Warnings: 18+ only, violence, reader injury WC: 2.3k One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight

The season had ended on a high with Max rightfully where he belonged. You had accompanied him to the FIA awards and cheered proudly as he accepted the winners trophy before jetting off to the Swiss Alps for a much needed break. Unfortunately work was never far away and all too soon it was time to make your grand entrance at the annual end of year Board of Directors meeting at the Scuderia Ferrari Headquarters.

The memory of the shocked faces when you walked into the meeting room and took the last chair around the table never ceased to make you smile. The brooch pinned to your Chanel suit jacket had recorded the moment of silence before chaos erupted while you reclined back in the chair to watch the men scramble for an answer.

Now it was time for the new season to begin.

Melbourne, Australia

It should have been a safe place. You had walked the perimeter three times just to check for any signs someone would be trying to get into the event. You hadn’t found any. Leaving the security team to their job, you returned to Max and accepted the cocktail he had ordered.

Australia was always a lively place for Red Bull as they gathered a range of their athletes across a dozen extreme sports and created some promo videos for the year. This year was no different with a party to kick off the week long trip down under and it was more than just the Red Bull family in attendance.

“What’s wrong, liefje?”

You shook away the lingering feeling that something was amiss and draped your arms around Max. “Nothing, baby, I’m just a little on edge.”

“I thought things were going well with the Board?”

You scanned the room for the current Ferrari drivers, and the future one, spotting them all in separate areas and deep in conversation. “They are, I haven’t been able to find anything planned yet but it doesn’t mean they won’t try something.”

“Relax,” he soothed as he kissed his way across your collar and up to your lips. “You can have the night off worrying. I want my girlfriend not my bodyguard.”

“Maybe if you stop winning all the time I will be able to relax,” you teased. “You’re just too damn fast, baby.”

Max’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he dipped his head to your ear. “I went slow last night, didn’t I? I think I got in trouble for that too the way you begged me to go faster.”

The witty retort you had to torture him with was lost as two men stumbled over their feet and knocked into Max. Unsure of their intentions you shoved them back and stepped in front of him protectively but all they could sum up were a few drunken expletives at your lack of hospitality. It was only going to get worse when you signalled for security to escort them off of the premises.

“It’s fine, liefje, I’m safe, we’re safe,” Max soothed as he rubbed your tense shoulders. “Have another drink with me.”

You turned to the bar and reached over the counter for two shot glasses and a bottle of vodka. “I don’t know how many more 1-2 finishes I can survive,” you admitted as you tapped his glass and downed your shot. You could feel the desperation growing with each Ferrari board meeting but it was the meetings that were happening in the shadows that concerned you more. The only reprieve was that Mercedes had started the season off poorly so it was one less team for them to worry about competing with. “I think we should hire more personal security for you and maybe Checo too now.”

“Do you know what I think? I think you worry too much.” Max laughed at the roll of your eyes in response.

“One of us has to be the responsible one.”

Max took your shot glass and the bottle of vodka, placing them on the bar top before taking your hand and giving it a small tug.

“Where are we going?”

“I’m being the responsible one and taking you back to the hotel,” he said with a grin. “A bottle of wine in the jacuzzi with you is much safer.”

There were plenty of drivers parked outside the venue for when guests wanted to leave and the valet waved one forward. Plastic barriers kept fans back, photographers snapped shots for the newspapers and police lined the entrance for anyone that grew too bold. You scanned both sides of the tiled floor for anything out of place and shifted as you saw a flash catch the glint of metal.

When the gunshot rang out, your first thought was of Max. He had only been a few feet behind you, but with the crowd that had gathered in the hopes to get an autograph you had lost sight of him. Had he been hit? Had he ducked along with everyone else? You dared a glance over your shoulder and found he had been quickly covered by the policemen while the man you had spotted tried to make his escape. 

Max’s leather jacket billowed at your sides as you sprinted after the shooter and you heard his voice over the screams of panic, he was calling you back, but there was no way you were letting the man get away. You made it two blocks before he dove into the back seat of a black sedan and fired off a few wild shots as it shot away from the curb.

Grabbing your phone from your pocket you dialled Max’s head of security and it picked up on the first ring. “1NF 2DU, Toyota Caldina,” you panted as you leaned against a building and watched the car disappear around the corner. “Male, early 30’s, brown hair, and fucking short. 9mm Beretta Nano.”

“Got it,” Harry noted before the phone was jostled. “Schatje, where are you? Are you alright?”

You looked down at the tear in his jacket and pulled it aside to see blood soaking your blouse beneath. You closed your eyes as the burning spread to your lungs and your panting grew more laboured. “I’m fine, baby, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, they won’t let me leave,” he growled the last part at Harry who was holding him back from chasing after you.

“Good…that’s good…you’re good,” you sighed in relief and slid down the brick wall. “I love you, Max.”

You heard what could only be described as a roar of pain before the line died and you were left looking at the background image on your phone. You had never been happier than that moment of waking up in Max’s arms on a lazy Sunday before the season began, your head on his bare chest and Achilles curled up on your feet with Jimmy and Sassy. The daily stresses of life hadn’t begun to claw itself to the forefront of your mind and nothing existed outside of those four walls.

 As a teenager you lived life a day at a time, not caring if it was the last one because you had never had something to look forward to. Now, the longer you stared at that photo, determination grew stronger than the pain in your chest and you cut your palms on the brick as you pulled yourself to your feet. 

“Liefje! Y/N!” Max’s voice carried above the sound of sirens and you tried to call back to him but only a hacking cough sawed through your lungs and your vision dimmed. “Where’s the fucking ambulance?”

Your steps faltered as you followed his voice and when your legs collapsed beneath you his strong arms were there to catch you.

Max thought about just going to the car but there was a young boy holding out a cap and he couldn’t leave the little guy disappointed. He looked up to tell you he would just be a moment when he saw you shift suddenly, then the gunshot rang out. Everything moved so quickly as bodies surrounded him and the crowds screamed in the chaos, and he lost sight of you making chase down the street. 

“Max, stay down, we’ll get you out of here,” Harry stated calmly as he pulled Max away from the policemen. 

“I’m not going anywhere without Y/N.”

“These are her orders, shh,” Harry growled as he saw your contact calling and answered in an instant, listening intently. “Got it.”

Max snatched the phone from Harry before he could hang up. “Schatje, where are you? Are you alright?”

The pause was long enough for him to hear his heartbeat in his ears and when you finally answered your voice didn’t sound quite right, “I’m fine, baby, are you okay?”

Max looked at Harry who was using his muscle mass to build a wall between him and the street you had run down. “I’m fine, they won’t let me leave.”

“Good…that’s good…you’re good.” Your voice was growing quieter as he grew more agitated. “I love you, Max.”

Max looked at the floor where he had last seen you and noticed the darkened spot of blood stains that led away from him. Strength he had never known flooded through him and not even Harry’s arms that were as thick as Max’s thighs could hold him back. His trousers threatened to rip from the long strides and the quick pace of Max’s sprint and he screamed for you, praying for an answer as he followed the blood drops down the street.

Max knew there were people following him as he ran to the silhouette he innately knew was you. “Where’s the fucking ambulance?”

“On its way.”

The street lights illuminated the pain etched in your face when you tried to walk to him but your legs collapsed. “I’ve got you, liefje, I’ve got you,” Max promised as he felt his hands grow slick with the blood leaking out of your side. “I’m not letting you go.”

Max could count on his hand the number of times he had felt true fear. He remembered the way his mother cried when she had him down to tell him she was leaving and how she wished she could take him too. He could remember the sound Achilles made when the neighbours dog escaped their property and chased him. He would always remember the look in your eyes before they closed.

For three days Max sat at your side, only moving from the room when you were wheeled away for scans and tests. Christian stopped by each night for an update that hadn’t changed and flowers arrived from the Board but Max dumped them straight in the bin, but other than that the room was empty and quiet. 

Max knew he wasn’t liked by a lot of people but he never really believed that his life had become a target. You loved that he was still naive to the dark side of the sport and you happily became the shield that protected him from the innocence that had long been stolen from yourself. It was why you put yourself into the trajectory of the bullet meant for him. 

Max could still see the footage that Harry had found from the lobby cameras. He had nearly thrown the laptop across the room where he waited for you to come out of surgery. That minute shift, the smallest of movements, had saved him - but at what cost?

“I found a little house,” Max said quietly as he held your hand. “It has an orchard and plenty of space for our babies, and no city around for miles. It needs some things fixed up before we could live there, but it sounds like a good place to retire.” He closed his eyes and lay back in the uncomfortable chair, your hand still resting in his so he could feel for any sign of life.

“I didn’t die just for you to retire now,” you rasped, your throat dry and voice hoarse.

Max was on his feet in an instant, capturing your face delicately as he kissed you with a sound that was some cross between a sigh of relief and a joyous laugh. “You didn’t die, liefje, I couldn’t have survived that.”

“I’m pretty sure I met the devil,” you groaned as you tried to sit up, “he spoke Italian.”

“That’s just Benedetto,” Max said with a flat laugh, placing a hand on your shoulder to stop you moving while the other pressed the call button. “You need to keep still.”

You weren’t impressed by the intrusion of the doctors and nurses who came flooding in and after answering dozens of pointless questions, because yes you were in pain after being shot, they finally left again. 

“They’re just doing their job,” Max murmured as he found space on the bed to sidle in with you. He carefully shifted you so that he could lay his arm out before tucking you in to rest your head on his shoulder. “Let them prod and poke you until they are satisfied you are completely healthy again.”

“I just want to go home-hey! Why aren’t you at the track?”

“Did you seriously think I would leave you?” Max shook his head at the idea and kissed your forehead. “You risked your life to save mine, I know exactly where I want to be.”

The stitched in your side stretched as you craned your head back so he could reach your lips. You had thought there would never be another kiss so you were going to savour the feeling that came with it. “I love you, Max.”

“Ik hou van jou.”

[supertacodinosaurus]

not a chance + lando norris (one shot)

In which Lando thinks he's going to win a race, to which you tell him the chances of you two fucking are as low as him winning a race - so what happens when he wins?

lando norris x fem!sainz reader tw: smut + not proof read (as usual)

masterlist - playlist

“I think this is going to be my day,” Lando tells your brother, Carlos, with a confident tone in his voice. “Maybe I’ll actually win today.”

You can’t help yourself and let out a soft laugh. “As if,” you mutter softly. You don’t expect anyone to pay attention to you, let alone hear your comment, but while looking at Lando you’re quick to realize that he did hear you. He is sending you an annoyed glare, while Carlos tries to tell you without words that you should shut up. Bit too late for that now. 

“Don’t believe me babygirl?” Lando asks you. The earlier confidence in his voice has disappeared and made place for a sarcastic tone, one Lando only uses with you. “Nope,” you say, making sure that you’re popping the p. 

“I’m not doing this again,” Carlos sighs while looking at his little sister and one of his best friends. Lando and you both know what he’s talking about, but neither of you is backing away. Lando is even getting closer towards you. “I’ll see you later,” Carlos continues, “hopefully after the two of you finally fixed the fucking sexual tension between you two.” 

It’s not a secret that Lando and you don’t like each other. You don’t know how it happened, where you were once almost as close with him as Carlos, things changed between you two. Friendly conversations changed into sarcastic, mean remarks meant to hurt to other one. Meeting up when Carlos couldn’t join changed into only seeing each other when Carlos dragged the both of you in the same place. Always texting with each other, sending memes towards each other eventually changed into ignoring each other on every social platform. 

Whatever happened to cause the change between Lando and you, has never been clear to you. Sometimes you blame yourself for taking a bit more distance when Lando got his first girlfriend, but eventually it was Lando who really changed his attitude towards you. Sometimes you miss how it was before, or better said every time you see Lando you miss how it was before. Even if you were fighting your feelings for him, it was better then acting like you hate him. Of course you don’t hate Lando, how could you - especially after crushing on him for the longest time. 

Your phone vibrates in your hand, you look at the text that’s coming in. It’s from Carlos. When you’re done toying with Lando, I’m at Ferrari. Saved you a seat. You should go to him now, that would be the smart thing to do. But Lando is still standing closely in front of you. Carlos believes that something else is going on between Lando and you, something that’s according to him caused by romantic feelings, but according to you that’s bullshit. Your crush on Lando doesn’t exist anymore, right? 

“Funny to see the girl who believed in you the most turn into one of your biggest haters,” Lando mutters annoyed. He truly feels betrayed by the way you’re talking about him and the upcoming race. He means his earlier words. Sometimes he wonders how things would be between you two if he did some things different. A lot changed when he was dating his ex girlfriend, changes he can’t undo but he wants to fix them. If you’ll let him.

“Not a hater,” you reply, “just a realist.” 

“Just watch me babygirl,” Lando says, “I’ll show you.”

“No thanks.”

“And after the podium I’ll find you and show you what else I can do,” Lando continues. He almost sounds dangerous. It causes you to feel flustered. What is he talking about? 

“The chances of you’re winning the race are as low as the chances of us going to fuck,” you tell him as if it’s a fact, while in reality you’re not so sure about yourself. 

“Seems like a good celebration, I’ll find you after the race,” Lando says, he has found his confidence back. 

“You’re crazy,” you sigh, “I’m not listening to this any longer.”

“See you after the race babygirl,” Lando says when you walk away from him.

“You won’t.” 

+++

Fuck. Did this actually happen? You don’t know whether to laugh or to cry when you’re looking at Lando who’s screaming from happiness while getting out of his car. How did he actually win todays race? What does this mean? What is going to happen now? Is Lando expecting that you’ll have sex with him now? Fuck. 

You see the way your brother is hugging with Lando, how happy he is for his friend. It makes you think about how you felt before. Every time Lando stood on the podium you’d beam with pride, you love(d) seeing him on the podium. It was you who always told Lando that he would be standing on the top step soon and that you’d be there to celebrate with him. How things changed. 

While looking at Lando who’s still celebrating with his team, you think back about the day things really went wrong between Lando and you. It has been months before it all crashed down, months filled up with weird tension and uncomfortable moments. Which all started when Lando got a girlfriend. You can’t blame him for that, you still don’t, but you just didn’t like her. Maybe it was because of your crush on Lando, maybe it was because his girlfriend sensed something and made sure that Lando and you couldn’t spend any time together anymore. 

“You don’t get it Lando,” you tell him, “I never get to see you anymore, you’re always busy and don’t make time for me anymore. What changed? Are you bored of me? Am I not fun enough to be your friend anymore?” 

“No, that’s not it,” Lando quickly says, “I just don’t have the time anymore.”

“You seem to have time for everyone expect for me,” you bitterly state, “I’m not stupid, I see how you’re traveling all around the world to meet up with every friend you have.”

“It’s different,” Lando defends himself. 

“Just tell me what I did wrong,” you sigh, “since you’re in a relationship everything changed between us.” 

Lando knew at that moment that he should tell you the truth. How he only agreed to his relationship so he could forget about his feelings for you, but he doesn’t dare to say so. And now he’s in a relationship with a weird influencer who seems to hate you and who doesn’t ‘allow’ him to see you anymore. He really should break up with her, but what will happen then?

“It’s just that she doesn’t like you,” Lando eventually tells you, “and as her boyfriend I need to chose her side, I guess?”

“So that’s it? Your girlfriend, from two months, doesn’t like me so you just decided to stop spending time with me, your friend from multiple years?” You ask confused. This time you don’t wait for Lando to continue. “That’s just, fuck, I don’t know what to say to that. Good to know my worth,” you continue sadly. 

After his confession which still wasn’t the whole story, Lando didn’t know what to say anymore. He watched how you left, but didn’t follow you to make things right. Maybe it’s for the better for now. There’s nothing he can do for now. He has a girlfriend, he needs to forget about his feelings for you and move on. 

Two hours later he broke up with his girlfriend, but then he was already blocked by you. 

After Lando celebrated with his team, almost all the other drivers and everyone else who congratulated him, you’re waiting for him to get on the podium. You feel weird while watching Lando on the podium. There’s a part of you who’s incredibly proud of him, a part that wants nothing more then to run over to Lando and hug him and tell him how proud you are of him. The other side of you is only thinking about what will happen next. 

When Lando is standing on the podium, you can’t stop thinking about how hot he looks. When Carlos finds his place next to you and watches Lando with you, he notices the way you keep looking at his best friend. “I really wouldn’t be mad if there would happen something between Lando and you,” Carlos tells you for the millionth time. “You’re crazy,” you reply annoyed. 

What Carlos and you both don’t notice is the way Lando is looking for you from the podium. When you look up again, you lock eyes with Lando. He sends you a wink. Fuck. 

After the podium you walk away together with Carlos, you want nothing more then get back to the hotel and sleep. This day was confusing and long, you can’t wait for it to end. Lando notices you walking away, without thinking about it he walks away from the press and starts to get towards you. He hurries and almost runs towards you. When he finally reaches you, he grabs your arm. 

“What the fuck,” you mutter when you feel someone grabbing your arm. Surprised you stop walking and look behind you. You don’t even know if you are surprised or not when you notice that it’s Lando. 

“You’re coming with me,” Lando tells you with a stern voice. Carlos looks confused at the two of you. You can only sigh. What are you going to say to this? You really don’t know. Slowly you nod at Lando, confusing your brother only more. Lando is quick to say a goodbye to Carlos and starts to walk off with you. 

+++

Lando dropped you in his drivers room. He still has media duties, but he wanted to make sure that you didn’t leave in the mean time. While giving interviews and talking with everyone, his mind is focused on you. He can only hope that you’re still waiting for him. 

In the mean time you keep thinking about what to do. You’re stressed out because of everything that’s happening. What will happen when Lando comes back from his interviews? Are the two of you going to talk things out and finally make it right? Or are you going to fight? Or is Lando actually for real and does he wants to fuck you? 

Eventually the stress makes you crazy. You decide to call your brother. Who knows for how long Lando is busy, you really need to talk with someone about this and who’s better then one of Lando his best friends? You know that your brother knows about your earlier feelings for Lando, so you can only hope that he will help you now. What if your feelings return? Or better said, what if you finally realize that they have never left?

“Carlos you really need to help me,” you start to speak when Carlos picks up.

“No, no, you need to tell me what’s going on between Lando and you! He left an interview to pick you up and now he’s doing interviews again? Where are you?” Carlos reacts.

“I’m in his drivers room,” you confess, “but I don’t know what will happen between us.” After that you explain to your brother what happened earlier today when he left Lando and you alone. Carlos chuckles when you tell him about Lando his bold replies. 

“What do you want to happen?” Carlos asks you eventually.

“I don’t know,” you say honestly. 

“You do know,” Carlos replies, “you’re just not honest to yourself. But we both know that you’re still in love with Lando.”

Before you can react to those words, Lando is entering his drivers room. You can only pray that he didn’t hear anything from what Carlos just said. “Lando’s here,” you tell Carlos on the phone, “I’ll talk to you later.” Before hanging up you hear Carlos say something childish in the lines of ‘doing it safe’. As if Lando wants something like that to happen you think annoyed.

“What am I doing here Lando?” You ask. 

“I’m getting my reward,” Lando tells you with a small smirk on his face. 

“Your reward?” You ask confused. 

“The chances of you winning the race are as low as the chances of us having sex,” Lando speaks up, “Remember those words babygirl?” 

“What do you want Lando?” You ask him. 

“You.”

Lando his answer makes you shiver. His following movements make it only worse. Without giving it a second thought, Lando pulls you into himself. His finger is under your chin, softly lifting it up for himself. He looks you into your eyes, searching for some sort of approval before he continues with his movements. When you show him a quick nod, he’s sure about it. Lando presses his lips against yours. 

Fuck, you can’t remember the last time a kiss felt so good. Now that you think of it, a kiss probably never felt this good before. It feels like everything is finally falling into it’s place. Lando pulls you as close into himself as he can manage. Your lips don’t leave his. When you feel Lando his hands on your body, a soft moan leaves your lips. Lando feels it vibrate against his own. Slowly he pulls back from you. 

“Lan,” you softly whimper when he doesn’t stop looking at you. 

“What is it babygirl?” He asks you. It’s the first time in a year that the nickname feels sweet instead of sarcastic. 

“Do something please,” you beg. 

Lando is quick to respond to your pleas. His hands find your body. Slowly he explores your curves while he presses some soft kisses on your neck, shoulders and face in the mean time. When Lando his hands are getting lower, you’re quick to lift up your skirt for him. Lando smirks when he notices it. 

“What do you want me to do?” Lando asks you. 

“If you can win,” you softly say, “then you also can fuck me I guess.”

This time Lando doesn’t hide his excitement anymore. He shows you an enthusiastic grin and moves away from you. Before you can complain, he’s already sitting in front of you. He takes off your skirt and starts to trace figures onto your still clothed cunt. He feels how your string is already damp. 

“You guess?” Lando asks you. 

“Don’t tease,” you tell him, “just fuck me already.”

Lando removes your string from your body. He moves his head closely to your cunt and presses a soft kiss against your clit. He’s in conflict with himself, he wants to take his time with you and show you exactly what he has to offer but he also just wants to fuck you right now until the both of you are lost for words. 

“Lan,” you whimper.

“Can’t I take my time with you babygirl?” Lando asks you teasingly. In the mean time he pulls down his race suit and boxers. 

“Next time,” you reply.

It makes Lando’s heart miss a beat. You’re thinking about a next time? His smile gets bigger again. He pulls you closer to him and aligns his dick with your entrance. You grab his hair in the mean time and try to get Lando closer towards yourself so you can kiss him again. When Lando lets his dick enter your body, it causes you to let out a loud moan. 

“Fuck,” Lando groans, “waited fucking four years to feel this.”

You barely hear him. Lando his words surprise you. Four years ago the two of you just met. At that time Carlos just got Lando as his new teammate. What does Lando mean with this. Before you can make things more clear for yourself, Lando continues to speak.

“Always wanted to fuck you,” Lando grunts, “Always thought about fucking you.”

Does this mean what you think it means? 

“What about..” You start to ask. “Don’t say her name,” Lando is quick to interrupt you. How does he already know that you’re talking about his ex? “Only got with her so I could forget you,” he confesses. 

“Fuck,” you moan, you don’t know but after Lando his sudden confession the sex feels even ten times better then before. “Always wanted you to fuck me as well,” you confess. 

That makes Lando slow down. 

“Waited four years for you,” you continue to confess.

This time Lando stops moving inside of you. 

“Are you serious babygirl?” Lando asks confused. 

“Yes,” you softly tell Lando, “I’ve had a crush on you for the longest time.”

Lando grins, “That’s good,” he says, “Really good.” He picks up his earlier pace and continues to fuck you. When the both of you reached your high, Lando carefully pulls back. He pulls you onto himself. Holding you as close towards himself as he can. 

“Four years right?” You ask Lando. 

“Four years,” he replies with a nod. 

The both of you let out a soft laugh. Suddenly nobody cares about what happened between you two in the last year. Sure, you will talk about it some time. But not now. Lando presses a kiss against your cheek. 

“Did you really think I couldn’t get a win today?” Lando suddenly asks you. 

“Lan,” you softly say, “I always believed you could get a win everywhere.” 

“That’s a girlfriend thing to say,” Lando jokes, “Are you my girlfriend now?”

“Do you want me to be?” 

“There’s nothing more I want to,” Lando confesses.

“Then I guess I’m your girlfriend,” you laugh. Lando kisses you again. 

“Let’s grab dinner with your brother,” Lando suggests, “and after that I want you in my hotel room so I can take my time with you.” 

“Deal.”

y/n: want to get dinner with me and my boyfriend?

y/n: he’s a race winner ;)

carlos: finally

[supertacodinosaurus]

Baby Blue

Pairing: Logan Sargeant x fem!reader

Warnings: Slight cursing, not edited

Word count: 3.8k (this was supposed to be short 😭)

Summary: Logan had just misspoke, shouldnt have been a huge problem, right? Wait, what do you mean he said he had a daughter? And is that his girlfriend?

Authors Note: Surpise, not a whiv chapter but instead, an uncharacteristically sweet fic.

Logan had fucked up. Royally. And he knew that, which is why, the second the words had left his mouth, he was grimacing, gaze quickly switching over to Oscar who was sat a few yards away with wide eyes.

It was the United States Grand Prix. Austin, Texas. Logan had been put on the media panel that day since he was the only American present and had the most connection to Austin, Daniel Ricciardo not included.

By pure luck or maybe by sheer will, Logan had been sat next to Oscar, both grateful to have a friend next to them. Fortunately, on Oscar’s other side was Max, a driver who’d always been respectful toward the American. Lewis completed the quartet, another driver that Logan wouldn’t have to worry about in terms of kindness.

When the panel started, almost none of the questions were for him. He’d expected that, he wasn’t exactly having an overwhelming season. Especially compared to the joys and successes of the Red Bull world champion or the unexpected high-placing finishes of the Aussie next to him. And his woes were nothing to write home about when placed next to the declining team performances from the 7-time world champion and future Ferrari driver.

So, as he had expected, most of the questions were asked to his left.

But he’d been put on the panel for a reason, and eventually an America-related question did arise, signaling that maybe he would be of use today.

“Good morning,” the reporter calls out toward Logan and he smiles with a nod toward the darkness where the reporters are all sat.

“Morning.”

“How’s it feel to be back racing in America? You have any family or special guests in the garage this weekend, giving you that extra boost?”

Oscar nudges his knee with his own, causing Logan to let out a small laugh as he glances over. He actually did have some special guests in the garage, not just his own family, who’d come from Miami for this, but also, you, his Fiancée. And his 4-year-old daughter, of course.

Your entire family lived in Texas. So whenever you werent following Logan around the world, you landed back home in Texas, the family home being the best place for your daughter to grow up. It helped that your parents loved her more than the world, constant presents being rained down on the little girl every time you’d bring her. He hadn’t seen you in about two months, not having had a time to come back to America since summer. So having you in his garage for the first time in a while was all that much more of a motivator for him.

He raises the microphone to his lips to say a paraphrased version of that, your relationship not being a very public one yet. Logan wanted to get the wedding done before he paraded you around, not wanting to add the stress of the public on your already existing stress from wedding planning and taking care of your daughter.

“It’s always great to get back home, you know? Uh, got to stay with some family out here for a few days, got some good southern food in me, which was great,” Logan laughs lightly, watching as the reporters grin widens, “And it always feels different when you’ve got important people in the garage, cheering you on. People who don’t usually get to make it, so that’s really nice.”

The reporter nods as Logan puts his mic down, but she raises hers to further the questioning, “Anyone specific? A lot of people were curious about a few different people in your garage.”

Logan nods, your family was pretty well known, especially in Texas. You weren’t famous or anything, but you’d grown up like Logan and when people have that type of money, their names get spoken pretty often.

“Yeah, some close family and friends. You’re probably asking about the l/n’s and I, um, knew them growing up so it’s really nice to see them out here supporting me,” Logan pauses slightly. The internet was pretty sure he had a girlfriend, not that he’d confirmed anything. It wasn’t hard to figure out though, as he almost never shut up about you. But it wouldn’t hurt if he mentioned having a girlfriend, right? Everyone already knew that anyway, it couldn’t do too much damage, “My girlfriend’s here, as well. Really happy to have her here, she hasn’t been to a race in a while.”

Oscar snorts, making Logan glare at the Aussie. Oscar knew you were more than his girlfriend, having been present at the engagement. He also knew Logan was leaving out a key family member in his list, a certain baby being completely unmentioned.

“Well it’s always nice to have your family, right?” The reporter nods with a kind smile, jotting something down on her notebook.

Logan nods with a matching smile, eyes shining as he thinks about you and your family in the garage, “Yeah, and I mean, my daughter-“

Logan pauses, stomach dropping as he takes in the slip-up. He glances over to Oscar whose eyes are wide with shock, mouth dropped open slightly. Max leans forward to lock eyes with the American from Oscars other side, eyebrows furrowed. Lewis looks his way as well, but his expression is soft as he takes in the younger man’s evident embarrassment.

Logan had fucked up.

His cheeks are bright red as all the eyes in the room stare at him, questioning looks on their faces. Logan laughs slightly, rubbing the back of his neck as he looks back out toward the reporter who’s now wearing an incredulous smile, “Shit.”

This breaks some of the shock in the room, laughs ringing out from in front of him. Logan shakes his head with another embarrassed laugh, “My girlfriends gonna be so mad at me.”

Logan drops the mic next to him, reaching his hands up to shield his face in order to avoid some of the embarrassment. Oscar, still laughing, reaches over to pat him on the back, his free hand stifling the laugh threatening to escape his throat.

Luckily for Logan, they run out of time before the questions can get back to him and the surprise child he just revealed he had. He’s quick to rush out of the room, only pausing to allow Oscar to catch up before he’s gone again, practically running to Williams.

He can hear Oscar struggling to keep up behind him, shocked laughs occasionally echoing out as he runs.

“Logan- Come on, slow down man!” Oscars calling out toward the blond, Logan continuing at his fast pace. He only slows when he makes it to hospitality, Oscar slamming on his brakes in order to avoid crashing into the taller mans back.

Logans eyes scan the room in search of you, Oscar reaching a tired arm up to rest agaisnt the distressed Americans shoulder.

Oscars groaning as Logan walks off, apparently having caught sight of your family.

“Hi, Mrs. L/N,” Logan says shyly as he walks up to your mom, a sheepish smile painted on his flushed face. Your mom turns toward him with a smile but after taking in his guilty demeanor, she looks at him suspiciously.

“You’ve known me for 18 years and you’ve never called me Mrs L/N,” your mom looks your fiancé up and down, eyes narrowing as she catches sight of an equally nervous Oscar, “What did you do, Logan? And why did you drag Oscar into it?”

Logan laughs nervously, glancing back at Oscar who ducks his head, looking away from the interaction, “Do you, maybe, know where y/n is? It’s important.”

Your mom pauses, suspicion still rolling of her in waves. But, sensing Logan’s urgency, she nods, “She’s in your room with Nat.”

Logan can’t help the smile that shows at the mention of your daughter’s name, sighing slightly with relief, “Thank you, I need to go talk to her.”

Your mom just nods, watching as Logan starts to walk quickly away, moving toward you in his room. Oscar moves to follow but your mom is calling him back before he can take a step, “Stay here, Oscar. Let him go, you’re going to tell me about the season. Either that or you’ll be the one to tell me what Logan did.”

Oscar, having had plenty of conversations with your mother while growing up, sighs, accepting his fate, “It’s been good.”

Logan, though, has made it to his room, opening the door quietly as he reaches it. He smiles once he looks inside, being met with you dancing around with your daughter, music playing from your phone on the table. As the door opens, your daughter looks over, a grin breaking out on her little face as she practically lights up, “Daddy!”

Logan grins as your daughter jumps up, sprinting over to jump into her dad’s embrace, giggling as he lifts her up into the air, clutching her gently to his chest, “Hi, baby. You having fun with mama?”

Your daughter nods, smiling brightly as she turns to look back at you, “Yeah! Me and mama went to see the cars and they let me sit in it! I wanna be a driver like you, dad.”

Logan grins, looking over to where you’re stood, a small smile on your face as you watch the interaction. When you catch Logan’s gaze on you, you speak up, “They let her sit in your car. They told her about how her daddy races every weekend and she decided that that’s what she wanted to do. She said you’re the coolest person she knows, now.”

Logan laughs, warmth filling his heart as you recap your daughter’s words, “Just don’t tell her Oscar races, too. Can’t have her thinking he’s cooler than me.”

You daughter looks up at the statement, confusion crossing her face, “Uncle Os drives fast too?”

Logan hums, nodding as he sways, your daughter resting her head on his chest, “Yeah, he does. He’s not as cool as me, though.”

You daughter hums, “I think he’s pretty cool.”

You laugh, moving toward the father-daughter pair, a serious look crossing your face, “He is, baby. Do you want to go see him so I can talk to daddy?”

Logan grimaces but lets go as your daughter nods, letting you set her down. She wraps her small hand around one of your fingers, swaying happily at the idea of seeing her Australian uncle.

You push the door open to go find Oscar but when you look up, you see Oscar’s already stood there. He looks exhausted and Logan knows that a conversation with your mom was no doubt the reason why.

“Uncle Ozzy!” Your daughter’s small voice calls from below you, causing a bright grin to burst onto Oscar’s face as he picks her up, the small girls hands immediately moving to push against his face. Oscar laughs, moving an arm to support the small girls weight as she pushes his face around.

You smile at the pair, laughing as your daughter grasps Oscars hair in her small fists and pulls gently, just watching as his head rolls around, “Can you watch her? I have to talk to Logan.”

Oscar smirks, glancing over your shoulder to see Logan standing sheepishly, “Someones in trouble.”

You hum, small smile on your lips, “Can you just hang with her for a minute?”

“Yeah, I can,” Oscar says, smiling down at your daughter in his arms, “Anything for my favourite American.”

You hear Logan mumble “rude” under his breath, warranting a snort from you as you watch Oscar walk away, no doubt about to parade your daughter around to anyone who'd listen.

You turn back around, coming face-to-face with Logans grimacing form, “Saw the panel.”

Logan winces, rubbing his hand along the back of his neck, “Yeah?”

You hum, stepping across the room to reach your fiance, “Mhm, I did.”

“Im sorry,” Logan sighs, looking anywhere but at you.

You can't help the small laugh that escapes you at his clear distress. Logans head snaps up, confusion crossing his face at your apparent glee, “What?”

“Im not mad, Lo,” you laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck. He stares at you, a puzzled look stuck on his previously fear-stricken face.

“You’re not?”

You smile up at him, shaking your head, “I mean, it's not how I would’ve wanted to announce it but I don’t mind too much.”

“Really?” You giggle when you catch the relief on his face, his shoulders dropping dramatically.

“Mhm,” you tangle one of your hands in the hair at the nape of his neck, his head tilting slightly back into your touch, “It was nice to be private for a while during the engagement. We didn’t have concrete wedding plans and Nat was so young. But the weddings basically planned and Nats old enough to handle herself in public, I think it’s a really good time, actually. Do you want to say something official?”

“I will, but until then I’d be happy to not have to hide you guys,” Logan grins, a hand reaching up to grasp the side of your face. You blush as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

“That sounds lovely,” you say, untangling yourself from his hold, “But, for now, I think you have interviews to attend to.”

“Yeah, yeah, I do,” Logan replies, but his gaze is still locked on you, love filling his eyes, “I’ll see you in a minute, I love you.”

“Love you too, Lo. Go do your interviews,” Your soft smile shines, lighting up your face.

Logan nods, moving to exit the small room, stopping to send you another grin. You laugh, pushing him out of the room, the door sliding closed behind him.

He moves on practical auto-pilot, feet carrying him to the media pen, thoughts of his family stuck on his mind. He reaches the pen quickly, spotting a group of about 8 drivers all huddled together in a chat. He thinks about walking the other direction but Max spots him first, gesturing for the younger driver to walk over. Logan agrees reluctantly, making his way to his fellow drivers.

“Logan!” Max calls, a smile on his face as he greets the Williams driver warmly.

Logan nods, smiling at Max politely, “Hey, Max.”

Max grins, throwing an arm around the blond driver, “How are you doing?”

Logan hums with a small smirk, knowing exactly what Max was eluding to, “I’m great, actually. Thanks for asking, Max.”

Max tilts his head with a wide smile, raising an eyebrow, “Yeah?”

“Yeah, I mean, you know how my morning went.”

Max seems to catch that Logan’s allowing him to publicly address the situation in front of the other drivers, turning his attention to the slightly confused drivers around them, “How’d the Mrs feel about it?”

“She was fine with it,” Logan smiles, “Honestly kinda happy to be open about it.”

“I didn’t know you had a girlfriend,” Lando says from across the small circle, a confused look occupying his face.

Logan shakes his head lightly, arms crossed across his chest, “Fiancée, actually. Been engaged for like a year now.”

This sends a wave of shock around the group, Daniel being the only one to pipe up, a huge smile on his face, “I know what this is about!”

George turns to the VCARB driver, a questioning look laying beneath his dramatic sunglasses, “What are you talking about?”

Before Daniel can explain, a high-pitched voice yells out from behind Logan.

“Daddy!”

Several drivers turn, being met with the sight of a small girl sprinting her way toward the group, a smiley Oscar trailing along behind her. The girl giggled as she approaches her father, skipping along happily as she gets near him. Logan leans down, opening his arms to let her walk into his grasp. She wraps her arms around his neck and Logan holds her tightly as Oscar stops behind him.

“Hey baby,” Logan says to his daughter as he looks down at her, “Have a good time with uncle Osc?”

The small girl nods excitedly, grinning as she looks back over to the man she’d spent the past 15 minutes with, “Ozzy took me to the orange garage, um, papaya I think actually, and I got to sit in another car!”

Logan hums, running a hand through the girls hair, trying his best to swipe it back into place, “Yeah?”

“Uh huh, it was really fun!”

Logan smiles, turning back to thank Oscar for looking after the girl. He turns back around, catching the gaze of about 8 different F1 drivers, all with varying levels of shock painted on their faces, “I don't know if you guys saw, but, um, I accidently revealed i had a daughter this morning and, um, this is her?”

Max is the first to laugh, having already been through his shock about the young girl currently attached to her father. Logans face heats as the drivers stare, Nat burrowing her head in her fathers neck as she tries to discreetly glance at the men around her without having to make any eye contact.

“Congrats, man,” Daniel grins, moving over to clap the younger driver on the back. Logan chuckles slightly as your daughter finally moves her head away from him, her curiosity at the Aussie overtaking her shyness.

The honey badger smiles at her, nodding his head. She smiles gently, reaching a small fist out toward the man. Daniels eyes widen at the gesture, eyes glancing between the girl and her outstretched arm before he reaches his own hand up to fist-bump hers. She nods with a satisfied smile, turning back toward Logans neck.

“He’s kinda cool, I think,” She mumbles and Logan smiles glancing over to see if Daniel has heard her words. Based on the increased grin on his face, Logan figures he had.

The rest of the drivers take their turns congratulating Logan on his fatherhood and introducing themselves to the small girl, her favourites being Daniel, Max, George and Alex, who she’d already met in the Williams garage over the past few months.

Eventually, all the socializing caused her to fall asleep against her father's chest, her tired eyes slowly drifting closed. Logan sways slightly, trying his best to soothe her in her slumber.

Once she's fallen asleep, he turns to Oscar, "Do you know where y/n is?"

Oscar nods, "I think she'd fallen asleep when I went to drop Nat back off. Didn't want to wake her so I just brought her over here."

Logan nods, glancing over to see the other drivers getting pulled into interviews. He didn't want to wake you, knowing how little sleep you'd been getting lately with all the wedding planning and your daughter. Anyone else in your family would be too hard to find on such short notice.

So, when his pr officer calls him over to do interviews, he holds Nat a little bit tighter, hoping the interviews don't wake her.

He smiles at the shocked interviewer as she hands him a microphone which he holds in his free hand, trying his best to support your daughter with one arm.

"Morning," Logan nods, voice low.

The interviewer nods slightly, shaking herself out of her shock so she can ask the American some questions.

"Good morning!" Logan thanks his lucky stars as the woman catches his drift and tries her hardest to stay cheerful while keeping her voice relatively quiet, "I had a couple questions about the panel from this morning but it seems you've answered them yourself before I could even ask."

Logan laughs, glancing down at his girl before bringing the microphone to his lips, "Yeah, my girlfriend was asleep and I didn't want to wake her so this girl is joining us today."

The interviewer smiles warmly, "Before this I saw she was hanging out with some of the other drivers?"

"Yeah, yeah, she was. She, uh, had a good time getting to meet some of the grid. But, you know, all the socializing tired her out."

The woman in front of him nods again, glancing over his shoulder at who Logan knew to be Max, getting asked questions across the pen, "How'd they react?"

"I think they were pretty surprised, you know? I don't think a lot of them saw the panel from this morning and even then, I didn't really give much of an explanation. Don't think Max even believed me until Oscar brought her over," Logan laughs, grinning lovingly at the girl starting to stir in his arms.

"Hi baby," Logan says gently, watching as the little girl rubs at her eyes, trying to pull the tiredness from them.

"Hi Dad, where'd Ozzy go?"

Logan glances over his shoulder, looking for the Australian in question. He eventually sees him, turning his body so Nat can see him as well,

"Uncle Osc is just over there, angel."

The girls nods, a frown still on her face from having to wake up, “What about Maxy?”

Logan grins, happy that his daughter was already comfortable with his fellow drivers, even going as far to seek Max out. Logan turns straight around, pointing behind them at the Red Bull driver, "He's there. And Danny's next to him."

The girl nods, a satisfied look on her face as she spots her new friends. Logan turns back to the interviewer, the grin not leaving his face.

Max, meanwhile, is in the middle of an interview when he notice the interviewer looking over his shoulder. Max looks at the man in front of him with a confused look, the man quick to explain.

"Think the newest addition to the paddock is looking for you, Max."

Max looks over his shoulder to see a small girl, chin resting on her dad's shoulder as she stares back at Max. When he turns to see her, she grins, moving a small hand to wave excitedly at the driver before moving to tug at her father's hair, looking for his attention.

Max grins, waving back as Logan looks over, indulging the girl. She laughs happily, getting even more excited as she spots Daniel beside him.

"Maxy! Danny!" Max looks beside him and sees that Daniel hasn't noticed your daughters yelling and he quickly leans to the side, poking the Aussie. Daniel turns to the side to see what Max wants but is instead met with Max pointing vaguely across the pen. Daniel glances over and grins when he sees Logan and his daughter, the smaller of the two waving hurriedly at the pair of drivers.

Daniel waves back, a grin practically splitting his face. The interviewer sends him a questioning glance and he laughs lightly, "Seems we've got a new cheerleader, then."

The interviewer laughs, quickly returning to the questions. Max, after waving bye to your daughter, turns back as well.

Your daughter, now properly noticed by her new favorite drivers, turns back around, letting Logan get back to his questions. She wraps her arms around his neck gently, smiling in satisfaction as she leans up to tell him something.

"I like your friends, dad."

Logan smiles warmly, happy to see her getting along with his coworkers, "I'm glad, baby."

———————————————

@casperlikej @evie-119

[supertacodinosaurus]

McLaren's Golden Boy - LN

Thursday - Miami Weekend series

Summary: Lando made a deal the previous year with y/n Verstappen that when the day came that he took his race win, she'd finally give him a chance. With her in Miami, he's got another chance at winning her over. He'll do the work to try and win her before a race too.

Verstappen!reader

Lando and y/n's back and forth is definitely known by y/n's older brother, and maybe to no one's surprise he's completely unbothered by it. So long as Lando doesn't do anything to hurt y/n then he lets the Brit have at it because he thinks y/n is just being difficult as she always is.

Y/n insists she wants to be single and is happy that way. Yet...she seems to constantly validate Lando's flirting by always reciprocating it before disappearing.

Coming into the Hard Rock stadium on Thursday to just be there with Max and sort of explore since she didn't come to Miami last year. But it being a Sprint weekend and there being the F1 Academy races, she's eager to watch everything.

But of course there's another appeal.

"Y/n...hello." Lando grins appearing behind her as she walks towards the security gate.

"Hey...I wasn't sure you would make it this weekend." Y/n states with a small smirk while Lando seems to have a memory blip, or possibly doesn't remember his weekend, and frowns in confusion. "Just with your injury. Your fans were so concerned and panicked I thought you might not be able to even fly over here never mind get in a car to race."

Lando laughs gently poking her and rolling his eyes at her dramatics of the whole thing.

"You're as bad as the fans." Lando laughs earning a hum. "So are you here for the academy race?"

"I'm here for all sorts. You might remember I have a brother who drives in the same league as you." Y/n teases making Lando smile. "I'll be watching both series and supporting the Red Bull drivers of both."

"Speaking of support, will I be getting any support from you this weekend?" Lando asks with a toothy grin that he keeps reserved for when he wants something from her. Mainly attention. "Might be the good luck that I need for a win."

"You know I do always root for you." Y/n states suddenly in a soft tone. "You deserve a win, regardless of our deal."

"Speaking of our deal, is it inclusive of sprint race wins and could I trade it off for like 3 poles instead?" Lando questions watching a grin spread across her face and her eyes glimmer with amusement. "How can you turn me away when I get smiles like that from you?"

Y/n flush on her face is almost aggressive as she tries to turns quickly away from him to cover it, not that it works.

"Are you blushing?" Lando teases earning a groan and gently nudge away from her. "You're so cute."

"Shut up. I'm going."

"Wait, you didn't answer my question."

"You're negotiating our deal now? I thought you said you'll be winning in this car?"

"I-...Well I will. But I just don't want to waste more time." Lando states making her look at him and smile for a moment.

"Ok...A sprint race win or...if you get a double pole over a sprint weekend." Y/n declares making him grin at her.

-

"I don't know why you do that, you're not a prize." Max states loving to find any reason to bully his sister since she doesn't apologise when she's bullying him. Though she disguises it as "humbling" him when he gives her a taste of her own medicine. "Just date the man. It's obvious you want to."

Y/n sighs fiddling with her phone while Max frowns realising his comments might've been in bad taste for the truth behind her reasons.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Max frowns making her look at him. "Come on, y/n. Tell your big brother."

"What if it doesn't work out?" Y/n mumbles earning a look. "Then I lose a friend and if it ends badly then I'll force you to pick a side."

"I love your honesty." Max laughs lightly then tilting his head. "I'm also so glad that you wouldn't let me choose a side."

"I always choose your side. We are siblings." Y/n shrugs before she tilts her head at him. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course you can."

"Do you think Lando and I would actually be good for each other? You're his friend, like outside of F1 the two of you are friends. Tell me the truth."

Max looks at his little sister for a few beats, suddenly looking too good for Lando. Too good for any man.

But she's not asking if he thinks that she's too good for him.

"Lando and you would be very good for each other. But you're too old to need anyone's permission, y/n. Surely I've taught you that much?" Max smiles trying to lighten the mood again which thankfully as she laughs a little. "But if you want my advice, which clearly you do because I am the smart one of us. Don't rush it now you know what you want. It's not like Lando's given you a deadline."

Y/n looks at her brother for a moment considering his words.

"That's true."

"Told you I'm the smart one." Max smirks as y/n turns looking outside and seeming to spot Lando as if she sensed the McLaren driver walk out passing by.

"You know...I think I've figured out why the two of you have such a...good friendship." Y/n comments suddenly earning a look that just instructs her to go on and tell him. "You're both the golden boys of your teams. Practically raised by them."

Max laughs a little since that's actually very true, though he's not certain that's the reason for him and Lando being such close friends. He'll not bother arguing, it'll only lead to sibling bickering that he doesn't have the energy for anymore.

-

Y/n sighs as she hears her name be called by Lando at the end of the day.

"I think you should let me give you a ride?" Lando states making her laugh a little before she properly turns.

The conversation with Max gave her mind some well needed clarity when it came to not being such a hard-to-get bitch who seems to only chase success. She doesn't want to do anything over the weekend just so he can properly focus and not have his mindset potentially knocked.

Plus while she doesn't actually consider herself much of a prize, something else Max was right about even if he'd take it back in a heartbeat if he knew she thought of herself as anything less than how highly he'd genuinely praise her and not just when he's joking around.

"You think? Nothing to do with the fact Max as so lovingly just fucked off early without telling me?" Y/n smiles earning a grin. "Done on your request, I can assume?"

"My request?" Lando questions in amusement then shrugging innocently. "I would never ask your brother to purposely leave you behind so I could get a hold of you and convince you to renegotiate."

"More renegotiations?"

"Consider your brother to blame."

Maybe she should've seen that coming.

"What did he say?" Y/n asks hoping that he brother hasn't committed such a betrayal to tell Lando about their earlier conversation.

"He just said that he'd left because he wanted to get back to the hotel quickly and you'd need a ride." Lando shrugs watching her shoulders slump a little as she relaxes. "I think he's rooting for me too."

"Now I know you're lying. Max only likes when he wins" Y/n laughs before noticing a photographer capturing the two of them walking together.

Not for the first time.

They've been known to be friends and actually to Lando's joy, people have frequently commented about how cute they'd be together. Something he's taken pride in showing y/n on more than one occasion.

"You seem quiet compared to usual." Lando comments after a few minutes of walking and actually climbing in his car, both in a silence. "Usually you just talk and talk."

"It's a Verstappen thing." Y/n hums before she looks at him. "Do you think I'm shallow?"

That was a thought she wasn't supposed to share.

"What? Why would I think you're shallow?"

"Because I won't date you until you've done a certain thing...won a race or got a certain amount of poles."

Lando is quiet for a few beats and the silence of hesitation definitely feels like answer enough.

"No."

"Liar."

"You're not shallow. But if you don't want to date me, I'd rather you say."

[supertacodinosaurus]

SECOND CHANCE

Pairings: Rhysand x Reader (platonic), Azriel x Reader (?)

Summary: Rhysand tells Feyre about his favorite person.

Warnings: mentions of blood/abuse (nothing descriptive); Reader doesn't make a appearance.

Words: 2.4k

Author Note: Hi! So this is my first fic ever, it was supposed to be smaller but i got a little carried away. Anyways, english is not my first language so sorry if there's any misspelling. I've been wanting to publish this for awhile but didn't had the courage. But i finally got it so here you go.

I hope you like!

-------------------------------------------------------

It was her fourth day in Velaris, and Feyre still couldn't believe how beautiful and magical the city of starlight was.

It felt like a dream that she could not wake up from, too good to be real, but there she was, staring out the window one more time.

The little noise from her stomach made her break her gaze and remind her that she hadn't had breakfast yet.

Feyre looked at Velaris one more time and then made her way to the dining room where Rhysand was already waiting for her.

He was immaculate as always in his black attire and with his perfect styled hair.

Rhysand was sipping on his tea as Feyre made her way towards the table, took a seat, and started serving herself.

"How did you sleep?" Rhysand asked while he looked at Feyre pouring food on her plate like he was assessing if it was enough or not.

"Very well," Feyre responded while meeting his gaze. "The city is beautiful, I couldn't stop looking at the view." She admitted after a moment of silence.

"Thank you. I take pride in it," He respondend while giving another sip on his tea.

Feyre looked at his hand and noticed the little mark that lay in the space between his thumb and his index finger. She had noticed that mark before but was never close enough to understand what it was. Now that she was sitting right next to him, she realized that it wasn't just a simple mark but tooth bites.

"Are those tooth bites?" She asked while pointing at his hand.

Rhys took a look at his hand, and a genuine smile appeared at his lips while setting his cup back on the table. "Yes, they are."

Feyre couldn't help her curiosity, and before she lost her courage, she asked, "How did you get them? Pissed someone off?"

Rhys chuckled, and for the first time, Feyre couldn't help but smile at the sound.

"Actually, a little girl did it," Rhysand said with nothing but amusement in his voice while he stared at the mark.

Shock and confusion settled on Feyre's face at his words, but the love in Rhys eyes and his smile while still looking at the mark, probably from remembering the memories from how he got them, didn't went unnoticed by her.

"A little girl bit you? What do you mean?" Feyre asked him again. She was so intrigued at this new information that she completely forgot about her breakfast.

Never breaking his smile, Rhys looked up again and met her gaze "Well she's not a little girl anymore but she was at the time she gave me these" He said while gesturing to his hand. He chuckled again. "It's a long story."

Feyre didn't even hesitate to respond, "I love stories, and now that i'm immortal, I have nothing but time, so please tell me about this little girl that bit you. I like her already." She finished with a smile playing on her lips.

Rhys gave a big laugh that went around the room, and at that moment, Feyre wanted to make him laugh more often just so she could hear that sound again.

Still with a smile on his lips, Rhys replied, "Her name is Y/N, she's my little sister."

Another set of shock and confusion settled at her face. He had another sister? She remembers Rhys telling about his mother and sister, about what happened to them at the hands of Tamlin's family, but he never mentioned your name before. So why didn't she meet you yesterday at dinner with the rest of the inner circle? Feyre went through her memories from last night's dinner, trying to remember if at any point one of them had mentioned your name, but she came up with nothing.

Seeing her confusion, Rhys explained, "You didn't meet her yesterday because Y/N it's not in Velaris at the moment. She's in Winter Court taking care of some matters for me, but she returns today, so you will meet her in few hours."

"Why didn't you mention her yesterday when you talked about your mother and your other sister?" Feyre asked, trying to understand why were you kept a secret until now.

Rhys smile faded, and a hint of sadness made his way into his features "Y/N it's not my biological sister. When I met her, I was already High Lord, and a century had passed since my family's deaths. "

"How did you meet her then?" Feyre asked, her voice a little more quiet after the mention of Rhys family.

Rhys gave a long sigh before answering. "Me, Cassian, and Azriel found her one night. We were returning from one of the illyrian camp's, i don't know why but we decided to fly that night instead of winnowing like we always did but I'm glad we did otherwise we wouldn't have found her. On the flight back, one of Azriel's shadows detected movements near our border, so we decided to go check." Feyre noticed that Rhys got distant, like he was probably remembering that night as he spoke. He looked at her before continuing, "When we got there, we immediately smell blood. There wasn't a lot, but there was enough for the scent to linger in the air. We followed the scent, and that's when we found her. Laying on the floor, her eyes closed, not moving, and her dress had blood all over."

Feyre gasped, and Rhys continued. "She was so small and so skinny, we thought she was dead. But then, like she read our thoughts, she moved. So i tried to approach her, and when i touched her shoulder, she turned around so fast that I barely noticed and bit my hand." Rhys laughed at that, and the air became lighter. Feyre couldn't help but laugh at the thought of this little girl biting the hand of the most powerful High Lord in Prythian's history.

"And after that?" Feyre asked, amusement in her voice.

"After that," Rhys said while laughing more. "She got up and started running. Cassian tried to catch her, but she dogde and kicked him in the nuts. "

"What??" Feyre said, disbelief all over her face and a big smile on her lips.

"Yep," Rhys confirmed. "She kicked him right there before passing beneath his legs and lauching at Azriel. He tried to catch her too but also failed. She managed to grab Az's leg and ripped Truth Teller from his hip right before pointing it at us." Rhysand concluded with the biggest smile on his face. In that moment, Feyre could've swear he looked like a proud father.

Feyre gasped again before replying, "No way! She actually did that?" She asked, shocked, and when he nodded, she asked again, "How old was she?"

Rhys started laughing again and shaking his head. "Seven. She was seven and was able to make three full-grown illyrians males feel like stupids." Still to this day, Rhys couldn't believe how you managed to dumbfound the three of them.

Feyre couldn't hold her laughter. "What happened after?"

Rhys locked eyes with her, amusement written all over his features. "You mean after she humiliated us?" Feyre gave a big belly laughter while nodding her head. "I said we weren't going to hurt her. She didn't quite believe us, so I went inside her head and saw what led her there."

Feyre's smile faded when she noticed how serious Rhys got and how a flash of anger passed his face. "What was it?" Feyre asked, afraid of the answer but wanting to know any way.

Rhys looked at his mark again. "She runned away from home. Her stepfather was abusive and used to hit her. Her mother died when she was just a babe, and she never met her father, so it was just the two of them. One day, she decided it was enough and ran."

By the cauldron, Feyre couldn't even begin to imagine what you had to went through so young.

Sure her life wasn't easier either but at least no one ever hited her. You must've been so scared.

"What happened to the male?" Feyre needed to ask, she needed to know.

Rhys didn't tear his eyes from her when he respondend firmly "Me, Cass and Az took care of him, after we found out who that bastard was."

"Good," Feyre replied whitout a trace of regret from her words, "And the blood on her clothes? From that night?" Feyre wondered, praying for that abusive male not be the caused of it.

"It was from the wounds she got while running away, we found her barefoot, and the dress she wore wasn't enough to protect her skin." Rhys said, and Feyre released a breath she didn't know she was holding, somehow relieved that the wounds weren't for a worse reason.

"How did you bring her here? You said she was pointing Truth Teller to the three of you." Feyre said.

"She was," Rhys said with his smile back on his face. "I got into her mind again and put her to sleep. She had no mind shields at the time, so it was easy."

Feyre noticed how he said 'at the time', so she had to ask, "Did you teach her how to create mind shields?"

"I did." Rhys smiled, a proud look in his face. "I also taught her how to read and write." Rhys added with a sarcastic smile all over his lips while looking at her with amusement.

Feyre laughed and reciprocated the look. "Let me guess. You told her to write 'Rhysand is the best High Lord ever' and 'Rhysand is the most handsome High Lord ever'. Am I right?"

Rhys gave a big belly laughter "Nope," Feyre gave him a look telling him that she didn't believe him for a second, Rhys laughed again before saying "I told her to write 'Rhysand is much stronger than Cassian' and 'Rhysand is much smarter than Azriel', things like that." Rhys concluded, still laughing.

Feyre noticed the love and the pride in his eyes and couldn't help but look at him with admiration.

Noticing the way she looked at him, he asked, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Without a second thought, she said, "You really love her, don't you?"

Surprise passes in his eyes before replying, "Yes. Very much. I basically raised her. Me and the rest of the inner circle, of course, but mostly me and Cassian." Rhys paused for a moment looking at the window, a sad smile settled in his lips before returning his look to Feyre."Y/N is my second chance. Losing my sister, was one of the most painful things i ever had to go through but Y/N," Rhys paused, looking at the bite marks again "She helped me heal that part of me. She's the best thing that ever happened to me and to the my inner circle. Finding her that night feels like a blessing, like the Mother gave me another chance, and i'm not gonna lose her this time. She's Cassian second chance too, you know? After losing his mother the way he did, Y/N helped heal that part of him, too."

Feyre nodded, somehow understanding his feelings. For a few seconds, she wondered what it would be like to have a relationship like that with her sisters.

"So what is her position in your inner circle?" Feyre questioned, thinking why were you in Winter Court.

"She's my Emissary. Usually, she doesn't go to others' courts alone, Azriel's always by her side," Rhys says with a certain amusement in his voice before he continues "but she was born in Winter and has a very good relationship with Kallias. I trust him and I know he would never hurt her." Rhys scoffed. "Gods help him if he did."

Feyre noticed the amusement in his voice at mention of his brother's name, her curiosity speaking louder, "Y/N and Azriel?"

Rhys snorted. "Honestly, I don't know. Sometimes they flirt with each other but I don't know if it's just for fun or not. Their relationship was never like ours. While me and Cassian always saw her as our little sister, Azriel always saw her more like a friend and Y/N too. She always saw him as a friend. As someone to run to when Cass and I started acting too much like dads to her."

Feyre snorted and caught Rhys looking at his hand again. She saw him caressing the mark and wondered, "Why didn't it heal?"

Rhys understood what she meant without taking his eyes from his hand. "I don't know, but i glad it never did. This," Rhys said while gesturing his hand in the air, "is what kept me sane and going during all those years under the rule of Amarantha."

Feyre gave him a small smile, and before she could say something again, Cassian entered the room in a rush.

"Am i interrupting something? Cassian asks.

Rhys is quick to reply, "No, you're not. What is it?"

Cassian says with the biggest smile on his face. "Our little star is back. She decided to come home earlier and arrived a few minutes ago. She's at the House."

Rhys face lights up at this new information and is quick to stand with the warmest smile on his lips. "Finally." Feyre notices his shoulders relaxing, like a pressure was taken of from them.

Feyre asks, confused. "Little star?"

Cassian and Rhys answer at the same time, "Y/N.

Feyre let's a giggle escape her at the cute nickname they have for you.

"Well," Rhys holds out a hand, and Feyre is quick to grab it. "Would you like to meet her?"

Feyre snorts "Would i like to meet the girl who bit your hand, kick Cassian in the nuts and stole Azriel's precious dagger? Yes. Yes, i would." Feyre replies like is the obvious thing in the world.

Cassian laughs. "Seriously, Rhys? Out of all of the stories that there is about Y/N. You had to tell that one?"

Rhys could only laugh and shake his head. "I know, i know." Rhys looked at Feyre again ."Shall we? I don't want to stay one more minute without seeing her."

Cassian snorted. "Cauldron, you're such a dad. It's only been six days."

Rhys gave him an unfazed look. "Like you weren't acting the same."

Cassian scoffs. "Shut up. Now let's go before Mor drags her to go shopping."

Rhys laughs, knowing very well that his cousin is absolutely doing that. He looks at Feyre one more time, love, and affection all over him. "Ready to meet my favorite person?"

Feyre nodds at him before answering, "Ready."

-------------------------------------------------------

Author's Note: If you have any suggestions please leave it in the comments. Thank you. :)

[supertacodinosaurus]

awooga | max verstappen x fem! wolff! reader

summary; in which y/n thinks she’s fawning over her boyfriend on her priv, until she realized she just exposed her relationship on her public account

fc; erika hasseur

warnings; suggestive comments, cursing

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minseok-smaus @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote @xoscar03 @c-losur3

note; requested ! awooga is so funny

masterlist !

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

liked by maxverstappen1, yourbestfriend, and others !

yourusername: AWOOOOGA🤤 i wish i can post him on the main all the time looooook at him😩 but i guess i’ll stay on the priv😔😔😔

yourusername: i wanna sit on those thighs tho

yourusername: imma call him, make him my booty call🥴

username: HELPOAKDKSND

username: uhm…..

username: HOLD AWNNNN

username: does toto know??😃😃

yourbestfriend: oh,,,, girl…..

yourusername: i am just a girl thirsty n horny for her bf on her priv😪😪😪

yourbestfriend: that’s the thing… it’s not your priv

username: she doesn’t realize this is her public account IJBOL

username: MAX??? MAX VERSTAPPEN???

maxverstappen1: wrong account, schat, wrong account !

yourusername: oh!

mercedesamgf1: answer the phone, now. - toto

yourusername: oh fuck

this post has been deleted !

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

liked by maxverstappen1, lewishamilton, and others !

yourusername: uhm…. anyways! photo dump w my boyf

tagged; maxverstappen1

maxverstappen1: pls stop calling me ur boyf on the main im scared ur dad will find me.

mercedesamgf1: count your days, verstappen. - toto

yourusername: who gaf what he thinks ur my sexy boyf AWOOGA🤤🤤

georgerussell63: pls stop saying awooga it hurts

maxverstappen1: ur jealous 😂🫵🫵

username: she’s so chill abt accidentally leaking her relationship 😭

username: shes winning the idgaf war

username: off topic but her fits are always😍

username: how did toto and susie react pls tell🤔

yourusername: well susie was amazing! love herrrrrrr🩷🩷🩷🩷

yourusername: my father on the other hand…… let’s just say if we were on the paddock no headphones would’ve been safe 😆😆

mercedesamgf1: was not happy. - toto

yourusername: pls for the love of God make an instagram account i’d be soooo good at managing it!!!😞😞😞

mercedesamgf1: leave max then. - toto

yourusername: then no🙄🙄🙄

maxverstappen1: i was threatened a lot 😄😄

lewishamilton: well! that’s something !

yourusername: look away, lewis, look away

lewishamilton: i’m afraid your roscoe privileges are revoked

yourusername: NO PLEASE NOT MY ROSCOE😭💔💔 i know max has cats but please 😔

maxverstappen1: guess i’ll have to make y/n a cat person now😁

lewishamilton: anyways! roscoe needs a babysitter this monday!😆

yourusername: I’M IN!!

username: NOO LEWIS AND TOTOS COMMENTS ARE SENDING MEE😭😭😭😭

username: y/n ur so real for saying awooga to max😩

yourusername: have you SEEN those thighs? AWOOOGA

yourusername: i’m afraid i cannot speak on his thighs any further 🥴🥴🥴🥴

georgerussell63: STOPPP

charles_leclerc: please stop we have children here

oscarpiastri: 😨😨😨

maxverstappen1: the lady can say whatever she wants! 🙄🙄

mercedesamgf1: no she cannot. not when it’s about you. - toto

maxverstappen1: you’re so right, sir! sorry about that, mr. wolff!🤗🤗

yourusername: oh nah my dad got mad max scared asf of him

maxverstappen1: his threats are working, schat, help….😰

[supertacodinosaurus]

I Know Places - ACOTAR

Rhysand x Vanserra!Reader

“They are the hunters, we are the foxes. And we run.”

warnings: abused eris, autumn court shenanigans, mentioned abuse (verbal and physical), talks of violence, forbidden love, beron being beron, beron being abusive, physical abuse, angst, sexism, the autumn court brothers, angst, beron slander (as he deserves)

1.1k words

Part Two to But Daddy I Love Him

Masterlist :)

Your father had struck you across your face. He killed you. Killed you and killed your happiness. You thought he would understand, that he would let you marry Rhysand and you would be happy. What a fool you were to think Beron would ever allow you free will. “I’m sorry, darling,” your mother had been comforting you for hours now. 

 Your head rested on her lap as she weaved her fingers through your dirty blonde hair. “How can he be like this? Why doesn’t he want me to be happy?” You cried softly, your hands gripping your mother’s skirts with a white-knuckle grip. 

 “He… well, he loves you… he means well…” she trembled as she spoke, and you knew that she did not mean that. “How can you say that, mother? Means well? He struck me three times…” you sobbed unto her lap, your heart aching for one person— your lover. 

“Darling, I know he is… unorthodox in his ways, but he cares about your future.” You sat up from your stance when she spoke those words, rage flaring inside your body at her claims. "Cares about my future?! How can you say that after what he did?" You spat angrily, your hands burning with your fire that was just begging to be let out. 

"Rhysand is a bad man... his court... it's a nightmare. There are no morals there. He is a cruel, wicked man, just like his father," your mother contested. You could tell that she was distressed, just like you could tell how abused she was by your father, how she feared him even when he was not around. 

"Do you think I am daft, mother?" You asked quietly. 

"No, honey. You are just youn-" You cut her off. 

"Do you think I don't know, mother? You think I haven't seen how beaten he leaves Eris after he makes a small mistake? You think I haven't seen how he eggs Fenix on to compete with Eris constantly? How he beats each of my brothers into oblivion? You think I don't know what happened to Jesminda and Lucien?" You were erratic, trying to get her to understand that you were no longer a child. 

Your eyes drifted to her arms, covered by her long sleeved dress, "you think I don't know what he does to you?" 

The Lady of Autumn stilled, her face falling as she stared at you solemnly. "I have tried to protect you... Eris has tried. Even Beron has tried. Our reality is not perfect, but your father loves you, and he wants to protect you." 

"I don't need protection, mother. I am not a child anymore... I am a female grown... and I want Rhys, and he wants me." You stated in an unwavering manner. 

"You must understand that Rhysand is not a good man, honey. The Night Court is the worst place to be, the fae there are deranged and depraved," your mother countered. 

You knew there was darkness in the Night Court, but you also knew there was light. So much light. You saw it, Rhys had shown you. But you could never say that, you had promised to keep Velaris a secret, and you would. "There must be good there, mother. I know there must," you stated softly. 

When she did not answer, you said, "he loves me and he would never hurt me. I deserve him, and he deserves me. I wish to be happy." 

She blinked and wiped her hands on her skirts, shaking her head, "your father has made up his mind, it is time you come to terms with that. We are Vanserras, it is the hand we were dealt." With that, the Lady of Autumn left your chambers, sending you further into despair. So, just because you were a Vanserra you had to deal with abuse and unhappiness? 

You would let your family say what they wanted, but you wouldn't hear it. Loose lips sunk ships all the time, but not this time. Left to your own devices, you decided you wouldn't put up with your father's abuse. You rushed to your vanity and rummaged through the cabinet that held all of your trinkets until you found it. 

A mirror.  A beautiful sapphire encrusted mirror given to you by Rhys a few months back. You reached for your red tube of lipstick and wrote on the glass, Come and get me. It was an enchanted mirror, made for the two of you to communicate through it, since he could not reach you in Autumn. You set the mirror down and waited, hoping that your lover hadn't shoved his own mirror in a drawer and forgotten about it. 

You spent the day pacing back and forth in your chambers, hands trembling as you constantly checked the mirror for a reply back. Rhys, please, you pleaded in your mind. 

"I love it when you beg," you let out a happy shriek when your lover appeared in the middle of your room, having winnowed in suddenly. You jumped into Rhys's arms, snaking your own over his neck and pulling him in. His arms slithered around your waist, holding you steady as you held on to him for dear life. 

"Thank the Cauldron," you cried happy tears, ready for him to take you away from this cage. Rhys pulled away and inspected your figure, his violet eyes turning dark, his thumb grazing over the bruising on your cheek as he growled, "Beron." 

A tear slipped down your cheek, a tear he collected with his thumb, "you won't ever suffer under your father again." 

"I just want to go with you," you sniffed, leaning your head against his hand as he cupped your cheek. The door to your chambers opened swiftly, "sister, I've brought you suppe-" 

Eris dropped the plate when he saw the High Lord of Night holding you close, his expression turning into steel. You yelped and clung to Rhys for dear life as your older brother sent fire bolts his way-- bolts that bounced off the shield Rhysand had put up around the two of you. "It doesn't have to be like this," Rhysand told your brother in a sing-song voice. 

"Let her go! This is a breach! This means war, Rhysand." Eris growled and you could only shake your head. "I'm sorry," was what you said before Rhys winnowed the two of you away. 

As you were winnowed into a manor-- in the Night Court, you assumed-- you fell to your knees, loud sobs leaving your body. Rhys was quick to kneel with you, taking your trembling hands in his. "This is what you want?" He asked in a soft tone. 

You nodded, "for me it's always you. It's only you, but... I'll miss Eris."

"I know, lovely. But this is the only way." 

"I know." You said, standing up with his help. 

A feline smile spread on his face as he motioned to the starry and gorgeous view outside the balcony he had winnowed into, "Welcome to the Night Court." 

-

Author’s note:

Part three of her meeting th IC and fluff? ALSO THANK YOU SM FOR THE COMMENTS ON PART ONEEEEE i am bursting with love

General Taglist: @mybestfriendmademe @lilah-asteria @sheblogs @x-reader-x @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @circe143

Series Taglist: @minaethrym @cherry-cin @acourtofimagines @slytherintaco @mp-littlebit @misskennygirl @umgatochamadopercyval @nayaniasworld @tenaciousperfectionunknown

[supertacodinosaurus]

cherry cola ☆ op81

genre: smut, humor, yearning, tiny bit of fluff, virgin!reader, innocent!reader, experienced!oscar, sub!reader (for a while!), dom!oscar (for a while!)

word count: 8.5k

After a painful break up, Oscar finds himself head-to-head with an enticing girl, filled with pure innocence. Also known as, his parents secret weapon, and his worst temptation.

nsfw warning under the cut!

18+...f!receiving, fingering, brief mentions of masturbation, face riding, missionary sex, doggy style

inspired by this !

cherry here!... hellooo anons, long time, no see haha sorry for the lack of posts, but hopefully this makes up for it, somehow? formal apology for my last post too while we're at it. though this fic is inspired by cola by lana del rey, it will not have a sour ending like past fics (iykyk). missed u all, so here ya go! enjoy :)

There is an apprehensive sensation that towers over him as soon as she walks in; shy mannered, tall, and firm with a hint of hesitation—it’s something he adores about her, but also something that has him feeling jittery. Oftentimes, her lips are his most prized possession, enjoying the way they move. All except at this very moment. 

Everyone notices his bitter, broken, and quiet mood despite always laying low. He’s never been one to share his problems with others, and he most definitely was not going to start now. It should be the best moment of the season—his first win—but he doesn’t have the joy to celebrate it with anyone. 

Oscar’s brown eyes are low and dull; empty. He’d be a damn liar if he said he didn’t see any of this coming. If he didn’t feel an ounce of guilt and misery. Should he have been more attentive, a better boyfriend, then he wouldn’t be regretting his life choices. Dramatic, but true. 

“How are you spending your summer break? Are you and Lily traveling?”

The Australian tries to scoff at the innocent inquiry beaming from his teammate, but he settles with a wince, not being able to hide it. “She, um…we broke up, actually.” He’s never been a religious individual—has never even set foot inside a church—but for the first time in his life, he prayed no more questions would be asked.

Lando raises his thick brows, clearly surprised by the sudden confession. Sure, they were a private couple—likely the most in the entire paddock—but he never saw this coming from Oscar and Lily. Though he only met her a couple of times, simply exchanging a kind greeting, he would’ve bet his entire Rolex collection that the couple were smitten with one another. “Ah, I’m sorry, mate.”

The rude sound of his race suit being zipped up harshly makes the Brit flinch in the slightest. “Don’t worry about it. That’s life, no?”

Costa Rica—they were supposed to go to Costa Rica. Instead, now, he sits alone on a flight back to his home country. He’s ecstatic to be sleeping in his childhood room with outdated posters hung of all his favorite drivers, but the feeling lingers. 

Sprawled like a koala, humid t-shirt pressed against his skin, he tosses and turns for an estimate of five whole minutes. He should be enjoying the beach, sipping on highly sweetened margaritas, getting the worst tan of his life, but he’s here. The hot summer air in Melbourne makes him spit out a string of dirty curses that would send his mum into a coma. 

The brunette might as well be an only child since not a single one of his three sisters were here to keep him company, ditching him with his parents. He loved them, of course he did, but a full house was his ideal way to spend his break. His home gym isn’t even enough to help him forget, even for a second. 

“Dinner is ready, honey,” Nicole announces, peeking carefully through the crack of the door. She grins widely. “There’s even pavlova—your favorite.”

He forces a polite nod, shaggy hair dangling just above his eyes. “Thank you. I’ll be out in a bit.” It actually takes a sum of thirty-minutes for him to jog down the stairs, a strong scent of apple expanding from his now washed hair. His dad hums as soon as he spots the McLaren driver. 

“It’s rude to leave guests waiting, Oscar,” he warns with a deep voice. 

The twenty-three year old assumes it’s a lame dad joke, perhaps, so runs along with it, taking a good look around the dining room. “Won’t happen again. I showered—”

“Where would you like to place the dessert, Mrs. Piastri?” a soft voice echoes down the hallway as he turns at the unfamiliar tone. You halt, caught off guard by the new presence. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you would be here.” 

“In my own home?” he finds himself squeaking involuntarily. The stern look that dances across his parents faces is enough for him to bite down on his tongue. He doesn’t even know why he said any of that—especially to a stranger. 

They introduce you two quickly, though you’re just as fast as to say that you obviously knew about his existence. Do you follow my races? You shake your head, glossy hair shining. “I work for your parents, so…I sort of know. Plus, your sisters always talk highly about you when you’re gone.”

He blinks. “You work here?” Brown eyes flicker to his parents, confusion written all over. “What could she possibly do?”

“Oscar,” Nicole scolds. “I thought you left all the unnecessary questions back in junior high.”

Chris slides a large hand over her smaller one, calming her down just a tad bit. The older man sighs. “You know your mum, always looking for something new to do—”

“I wanted to grow a garden!” she squeals, delighted. “Like in all those magazines you get me for my birthday—oh, so lovely, honey. Only I realized, I don’t know anything about gardening.”

“And this lovely girl standing right here is a total natural. Her hands must be magic.” Oscar blushes hard at his dads choice of words. “She’s helping us out for the time being. Until we get back.”

The Australian's mouth opens, then snaps back shut, swallowing. “Get back from where?”

“Costa Rica!”

He gapes. “You’re using my tickets?”

Nicole winces. “Can’t let them go to waste, honey…”

His father butts in. “How is Lily by the way?”

The brunette groans, running his hands through his waves. “How should I know? Come on, you guys can’t be serious.” The tickets weren’t the problem; the fact that they were leaving was.  He spots you awkwardly placing the pastry down onto the table. “Can you give us a minute?” 

“Yes, of course,” you quip, glad to have a reason to flee far enough away from the premises. You turn to the Piastri’s who smile fondly at your understanding. “I’ll be out in the garden.”

As soon as you rush out, the twenty-three year old turns swiftly. “I guess I’m leaving too.”

“Don’t you dare, Oscar Jack Piastri—” He fumes. “Why not? You’re all going to be gone!”

“She won’t—you are keeping her company.” She’s not asking; she’s demanding. Staring back in shock, the McLaren driver avoids eye contact, fidgeting like a kid at their first day of school. His mum stands up, makes her way over, and pecks his soft cheek. “She’s a sweet girl. She won’t be a bother—she’s just down the hallway.”

That’s where Lily would always stay back when they first started their relationship; too afraid of making a bad impression on his parents. He found it adorable. He rolls his eyes and releases a heavy breath. “Fine.” He stares out the glass window, focusing on where you patiently sit on the wooden bench, delicate hands pressing your dress down against your thighs. “Fine...”

-

The following morning, his parents wake him up at the crack of dawn, bidding goodbye. It comes as a total surprise, thinking he had a few more days left with them, but no. He’s barely registering any of it before they whisper inaudible nonsense and scurry out of his bedroom. 

After some debating, he changes and decides to go on a quick run. The sight of Ms. Alleck watering her burnt grass makes him smile as he sets off. It would have been easier to not get as tired if it were a slight bit chilly, but it’s blazing hot. He cuts it short, dashing back home and immediately serving himself a glass of cold water. 

“You’re up early.”

The brown eyed boy jumps in sudden surprise. Standing in a pastel yellow sleeping gown, you grin brightly. Long lashes lay flat, nose pinching rosy pink, and breath minty. “Yeah, my folks sort of woke me up. Couldn’t fall back asleep.”

“Oh.” You pout. “They left already?”

“You knew?”

“Yup. They mentioned it last night before bed.” A beat. “I hope me staying here isn’t making you uncomfortable…it’s just that they offered, and—”

“It’s not.” Lie. “Make yourself at home.”

Not much is seen or heard from him for the majority of the day; occasional glaces coming here and there. They put you in an uncomfortable spot yesterday—you had been working on the garden for a year now, damn it—but their son's demeanor took you by surprise. The pictures and stories were something you relied on as the only source of getting to know him: polite, tall, and swanky—boyish.

That was so far from the truth. Oscar Piastri has grown into his body; almost appearing to be a handsome giant. Despite his warm face, his attitude is a bit snarky. He has no problem in saying what’s on his mind. And he is most definitely not a boy. 

He’s a man.

“What do you say?” 

“Sorry?” 

He chuckles, Adam's Apple dancing up and down. “Would you like to join me for dinner?”

It wasn't his intention to try and get close to you—not purposefully, at least—but he thought; why not? Who knows when his parents are coming back, when his sisters would, and he wanted to prove to you that he wasn’t some snotty guy. Summer is summer, after all. A friend to spend it with sounds quite nice.

Pursing your red lips, you nod, setting your book aside. The dinner table is already set up. Chicken and rice. That’s it. Given, it looks and smells amazing, but plain. You quirk a brow. “Aren’t you supposed to eat your greens? To drive quicker?” He burns up at you teasing tone.

“I didn’t want to risk burning the house down. We’re lucky I was able to get even this done.”

“Very well.” The refrigerator opens, colorful veggies staring back at him. You grin, slow and easy. “I’ll take care of it. It’s only fair, roomie.”

-

Oscar left home a few years ago, migrating to the United Kingdom for work, so it had been a while since he had stepped foot in his backyard. He faintly remembers his pirate treehouse, his sisters’ Barbie’s cluttered inside. It was a bone-chilling sight for baby Oscar back then, but now, the paint is chipping off, the wood looks a lot weaker. It’s a nostalgic feeling.

The new additions are stunning. A bunch of healthy flowers beam back at him and he swallows when he realizes he can’t name a single one. Waxflowers, Calamint, Dahlias, Peonies, Carnations, California Poppies. One by one, he admires with an open mouth. “They’re beautiful.” He turns to you with a proud smile. “You’ve done an excellent job.”

Pink feathers onto your already blushed cheeks, biting back a cheesy grin. You had decided to eat out on the bench, choosing to enjoy the now fresh air. Still humid, but less than before. The scent of coconut sunscreen makes his whiff constantly. “So…Costa Rica?”

He winces. It was too soon to talk about the situation, but something in your calm voice makes it easier to spit it out even though you probably already heard from his parents. All of a sudden, your savory carrots taste like complete shit. “T’was supposed to go with my girlf—my ex. My ex-girlfriend.” 

You pout, sorrowfully. “Oh, I’m sorry, Oscar. I didn’t mean to…I had no clue.” And it’s genuine. Guess his parents were complete traitors. 

“Tell me—how long have you been working on fixing the garden?”

“Since last summer,” you hum, chewing down on a piece of grilled chicken. “This is the first time I have actually stayed here, though. Your parents are sweet. As soon as they heard that you were coming back home, they insisted I kept you company.”

Sharp jaw clenches and he scoffs. You simply blink back innocently. Then, he notices it. The way it reflects against the yellow ray of the now setting sun. He knows what it is, so he doesn’t ask. Too busy staring off into the distance, you place your plate down. “Let me show you a few other things I’ve been working on.”

There’s row and row, further into the open area; every twist and turn makes his brows raise up higher, impressed by the noticeable updates. Coming to a halt, he spins his head around, brown locks hitting his temples. “Since when do we have a cherry tree?”

You beam, orbs shining with excitement. “Since last summer!” you repeat, cheerfully. You pick one, handing it for him to try. An embarrassing moan erupts once the sweet nectar slides down his throat. “Good?”

“Bloody amazing.” Every compliment makes you squeal with delight. “My mum is actually allergic to cherries, so how…”

“She was actually the one who brought it up. Said she knew how much I loved them, and that I deserved a little something for flourishing her garden. I couldn’t deny the chance to do so.” You bite down on your lip, sheepishly. “They are my favorite.”

Reaching for one makes him look away as soon as your dress rises up, soft legs poking through. Bare feet press against the wet grass as you tippy toe. He mustered a fake cough, but as soon as you bite down onto the bloody fruit, he clicks into a trance. 

Plump lips; thick and juicy. Long lashes fluttering shut against your glossy cheeks. That could have been because of the summer heat, but it affected him just the same. The familiar sensation of attraction rushes to his cock as he stands stiffly—but also loosely. He was loose. So fucking loose.

Something hits his cheekbones and it rips him away from his drooling. A singular seed now lays by his feet; indicating what you had done. A crinkled, wobbly smile shines back at him, hands nervously flattening your dress back down. The Australian jokingly lunges towards you as you squeal, backing away. 

“You were disintegrating! I had to get your attention one way or another!”

Oh, she definitely got his attention. Giving you one final scowl, he stops his steps. “Everything—all of it—it’s great. Thank you.” The wind picks up and you shiver. “...for doing this for my parents.”

Neat hair flies against the breeze, covering your eyes for a minute. Pushing it aside, you scrunch your nose faintly. “Anytime.”

-

Technically, what you’re getting paid for was to watch over the beloved yard; that’s all. But you offer to do more. Mow the lawn? Paint the chipped wall? Wash the windows?

“God no, darling,” Oscar’s mum laughs through the end of the line. “You are doing enough already. Please. Relax.”

But you can’t. Nibbling on your thumb, you brush the counter, strolling past countless family portraits. A smile slips when you spot a toothless Oscar. “I insist.”

So, here you are; decluttering the attic. After a bit of bickering with Nicole, she eventually gives in and asks for a favor. Clean and tidy the small room. Easy peasy. 

“Ouch,” you hiss when a nail digs through your skin, gore immediately pouring out of you like a waterfall; you squeak. Just then, a certain brunette peeks their head through the entrance. “Oh good, it’s you. I thought we had an intruder.”

Raising a skeptical brow at him and the thin duvet, you quickly take it from him, pressing it down to ease the bleeding. “Holy crap, are you okay?” In one motion, he steps closer to you, analyzing the injury with worried eyes. You groan.

“It’s only a little cut. No biggie.” But the way your face is slowly losing color lets him know that your words aren't true. Brown eyes flicker, searching for a spot to sit, but everything about this is crowded. You were just about to start tidying; the mess was still there. Crouching onto a tiny stool, he takes a seat, somehow still towering over you. Or at least that's what it felt like, because suddenly, you felt suffocated. 

His long legs are spread as you stand between them, hand out towards him as he winces at the brutal cut. “Ah—that’s pretty deep.” He gags when he notices the underneath flesh. You suppress a giggle. “We should go to the ER.” 

You scoff, ripping away from his grip, tripping over a box. Regaining your balance, you drape the cloth over your hand once again. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll be right back.”

After rinsing your hand with alcohol, covering the wound with the largest bandaid to ever exist, and balling your eyes out, you make your way back up. The Australian is drenched in sweat, huffing and puffing. “Got it,” he pants. Confused, you tilt your head to the side, but that’s when you pick out the nail in the palm of his hand. You blink, too bewildered to make sense of how he retrieved it without the help of a hammer. “I also found lots of old trophies. Extremely bittersweet.”

“Why’s that?” you hum, kneeling down next to him, reading through the labels. Each makes you more and more dazzled. 

A minute passes by. “Because I grew up.”

“That’s…sad.” Shrugging, he digs for more. He laughs loudly, throwing his head back. “Dear G—I forgot this even existed!”

Oscar’s 81 Things To-Do During the Summer [List]

Learn how to bike.

Learn the Australian National Anthem (Sophie will be beautifully impressed)

Get better at being more outgoing (Mum is worried)

So on and so forth. “You were an extremely creative lad. Eighty-one things to do…eh.” A tongue click. “Possibly buy a pet dragon?”

He cringes. “Not all were realistic. I actually never really got around to it. Mainly added, if anything.” 

Crimson red flashes. “I, um, I could tell.”

69. Oscar Piastri, you know what I mean.

The brunette chokes on his saliva, yanking it away as fast as he can. Standing up to his full height, he rolls up the piece of paper and points towards the exit. “I think I should, um…yeah. See ya.”

“Yeah.” He dashes off. “See you…”

-

Eighteen-year old Oscar was a horny bastard. But every guy that age is, so it’s not really fair to feel bad about his list. The writing is obviously his, but the things jotted down made him almost feel like it wasn’t. Blowjobs? Hand jobs? What was he thinking?

And then, there was you—a curious cat. He had to be a virgin; he just had to. Why else would he be embarrassed? You weren’t one to judge, though. You knew nothing about the sexual world, having never partaken. The thin band wrapped around your ring finger is enough proof. 

And no—you weren’t married.

It would have been absolutely diabolical to mention sex in your household growing up. Being Roman Catholics is no joke, believing religiously to wait until marriage. You never had a problem with that; you would wait. Doesn’t mean you didn’t know what any of the common terms meant. Sort of. 

Only now—for the first time in your life—there it was.

Temptation.

The McLaren driver was no newbie. He has had his fair share of experiences; before Lily, with Lily. He knew just about anything and everything. His good-boy act was no facade. At times he didn’t like that about himself, but it’s who he was. Obeyed the rules. Never crossed the line with anyone he wasn’t romantically linked to. And yet…

There you were.

The flowers were perfect; only needing to be watered. The cherry tree was much more…complicated. The chances of animals recklessly hunting for the sweet fruit was high, the chances of the red drupes rotting also was. Therefore, you spent most of your time there. 

Maybe you were avoiding him; you told yourself you were already horrified at the dirty thoughts taking over like the plague. And perhaps he was doing the same; he had only been locked in his room for the past three hours. 

Golden hour. With your hands on your hips, you squint, admire the polished drupes, tickling with water. Walking back to the bench, you lay down, picking up on your reading, occasionally taking sips from your Cherry Cola. 

Pacing the small bedroom, Oscar mutters to himself. Maybe she didn’t read all of it. Maybe she doesn't know what it means. Yeah—he was exaggerating. Clicking his window open, he gasped for needed air. As soon as he spots you reading, he grunts. 

White skirt brushes down your smooth legs, challenging the sun to see who shines the brightest. Lips wrap around the glass bottle, puckering in the slightest. And he wonders; would you taste as sweet as the cool beverage?

He’s a grown man; an adult. There’s no need to be uncomfortable. Sex was a part of everyone's day to day life. He was the one making it a bigger deal than it actually was. Still, he slips on a pair of sunglasses, perched perfectly onto the bridge of his nose. 

“Is it any good?”

His voice makes you flinch, dropping the book flat on your face. A tiny groan rings through the air. Flashing him a weak smile, you sit up straight, fixing your clothes. “Want one? There’s plenty in the fridge.”

He had noticed, of course he had. Never in a million years did he think he'd see his refrigerator stocked up with the sweet drink. He never cared enough to ask who they belonged to; figured they would just expire.

Wavy hair swings back and forth when he shakes his head. “Gotta keep in shape.” I see, you murmur, loopy eyes peeking over at him, taking another gulp. The sizzling feeling is utterly childish compared to what he’s making you feel. The burning sensation between your legs is annoying and painful, you almost want to plead for help. “I meant the book, by the way.”

“No!” You laugh, nervously. “I mean…it’s alright?”

After he stormed off and left you a breathless puddle, you biked and biked—until you hit the local bookstore. You weren’t looking for anything in particular, simply browsing, but as soon as you reached the section of Erotic Literature, you stopped. 

So many—many—wrong choices. Still, humiliated, you paid and fiercely ran out. Maybe this was some sort of punishment for reading what you’re reading; had to be. And Oscar asking questions wasn’t helping. Licking your berry lips, you swallow a thick layer. “What have you been up to?”

Fuck, he moans, large hand sliding up and down his cock; more and more pleasure intensifying. Your tiny dresses. Your short skirts. Your angelic face. The way your lips would separate before every sentence. Your sweet scent that would have normally given him a headache, but instead made him chase after you like a dog. 

Finishing all over his thighs, he shudders. White liquid never looked more sinister than at this very moment. After changing, he paces the room with regret. 

Pushing the frames further into his face, he hums. “Oh, you know. Just… cleaning up my room.”

-

It’s been a week in a half now and you’re happy to announce that you have fallen into a routine. While Oscar did his daily workout, you would make breakfast. While you worked on the garden, he cooked dinner. Though, he was unbeknownst over the way you would drool over him when he would walk out the door; a compressed shirt hugging his built body tightly, arms begging to be kissed. You were unaware of the way he would rub his face in desperation when you walked out, banging his head purposefully against the cabinet; the way you would skip out with your book and infamous drink, or how you would prettily tie up your hair before you even got started.

It was a mess.

A mocking mess.

This afternoon though, you aren’t flying out the door to the yard, but rather frolicking over to Ms. Alleck, ready to assist. I try my best, but they always wilt! Could it be the humidity? Laughing, you toss your hair up into a bun, messy strands poking out as you cock your head to the side. “Could be, but don’t you worry. We’ll find a way to make it work. Promise.”

He had always known you were kind, gentle, soft spoken…pure. And you doing this only added to his attraction. It’s salad, spaghetti, and salmon that afternoon. Sweaty, you pant. I’m going to squeeze in a shower real quick. But you weren’t sweaty, like you believe; you were glistening. 

“This is so cute,” you chirp, sitting cross cross in the old treehouse. A few spider webs make your blood run cold, but he quickly took care of it, apologizing. The brunette blushes. 

“I wanted to use it one last time. Before we get rid of it.” Neat brows furrow. “It’s just that it’s old—only a matter of time before it plunges down.” “What?” 

“O-obviously not now!”

After a bit more convincing, you finally relax and enjoy the way the crickets sing against the night. Small feet press against the wall, white tube socks turning slightly brown from the lack of sweeping. For a moment, he shuts his lids, breaths shallow, body loose. The high temperature almost made him feel as if he was cuddling into the warmest blanket; it felt nice. 

Whoops, you mumble when hollow glass pounds against the wooden floor. He perks up at the sound, brown eyes burning with high alert. “You do shit on purpose?” he screeches when he detects scarlet blood. Wincing in pain, you curl your hand towards the hem of your dress. 

“Help me,” you plead, slight annoyance written all over your face. He must’ve broken the world record of running into the house to retreat the first aid kit, and running right back to you. The way he sanitizes the skin, to the way he wraps your hand with a gauze pad, is honestly hilarious.

“What so funny?” he murmurs, attention never leaving the wound. 

“Mmm. Nothing.” He snickers and you giggle harder. “It just seems as if I’m making you a professional. You ought to be ready if anyone else needs your help to treat injuries.”

“Oh, of course. I’ll tell them a certain klutz made me learn from day to night with all her clumsiness.” His voice drops, laced with concern. “Seriously though—you were just healing. You have to be careful.”

Plump lips part with the sound of his delicate voice, accent almost disappearing. Wandering eyes admire the way his brows are knitted together and orbs soften. Swallowing, you nod. “I will.”

“Good.”

The once vibrant room is now hazy and suffocating. Does he not know what kind of effect he has on you? The type of power he holds? Oscar doesn’t seem to, though, with the way he chugs down his entire glass of water. Stuck in a trance, your hand briskly reaches out for your own drink. He roars with laughter, clutching his stomach. “You just broke your bottle, you don’t have a drink anymore.” He picked up the Cherry Cola you had offered, but he had declined. “Take mine.”

You don’t put up a fight, simply allow him to open and give it to you. The sweet drink doesn’t do a great job at hydrating your foaming mouth, but it helps as a distraction. On the other hand, the brunette can’t seem to not watch the ways your lips suck in and out, eagerly. As if this were the only source of air. He shudders. 

“We should probably head down…”

Wiping your lips with the back of your hand, you comply, already standing up. From the floor, he has a good view of your legs; long, soft, sweetly scented. He wonders if you use honey as lotion because that would explain his urge to nuzzle his face against them. Picking up the broken glass and plates, you turn back. “Coming?”

A sigh rings through the air once, and suddenly—he’s cradling your face with high intensity and lust, molding his lips against yours. Tomato sauce stains his shirt and your dress from the plates that still remain between you two. One second, you're wide eyed, and then the next, you're allowing yourself to kiss him back. 

You want to cry with how pleasant the feeling feels and he wants to scream with how much he wants to fuck you. But alas, one of you pulls away first—you can’t really tell who— and you’re both left gasping for air. Completely winded and fucked.

You both are fucked.

-

The treehouse comes crashing down the day after your first kiss. Yes, first kiss. You would like to blame him and say that he stole it from you, but the arousal that was dripping between your thighs last night was a clear indication that you could never actually say so because you liked it so much. 

The wooden house tearing down is something you take as a sign; you’ve sinned. Okay, maybe that was a bit too dramatic, but you were honestly thinking about it. That night you dreamt of the wildest things imaginable; his pretty face in between your legs, large hands squeezing your perky breasts, fingers swirling inside your velvety walls, cock tearing you in half.

It was unacceptable. 

So, while Oscar worked on picking up the tiles with a hometown buddy, you marched right over to beg for forgiveness. Kneeling down against the cushion, you say a silent prayer. 

I don’t want to think like this—not when I know I can help it, but God this is getting way too out of hand. And you know I’m not like this, you know that! But he just—AGH. Maybe it’s his personality that makes him so attractive, or maybe it’s his sudden growth spurt, but please let me get a hold of myself. He’s just a friend, he’s just a friend—HE’S JUST A FRIEND. 

“Would you mind keeping your words to yourself, sweetheart?” an older lady whispers, two rows ahead of you. 

Pink feathers onto your cheeks. “Oh, yes, of course! I’m so sorry…”

I don’t ever ask for much, no, that’s never been necessary, but I am now. So please. Hear me when I say: Push this desire I have, far, far, far away.

-

If you were to say, there was a ninety percent chance that you would walk away. Not even spare him a passing glance. He would call you out on it later, but whatever—too late. Ignored you, you say? No, really I did? I had no idea, I’ll make sure to not let it happen again!

If Oscar were to say, there was a ninety-nine percent chance that he would let you walk away. He didn’t need your company; he was doing just fine. But then again, that one percent tugs at him like the devil on his shoulder.

“Hey. You’re back.” Cool. Calm. Collected.

“Oh! I suppose I am.” Cool. Utter. Mess.

He grins, eyes crinkling like the leaves that hang upon the crimson tree. Signaling up, he cocks his head in deep thought. “Just finished. Cole said his uncle could shred…” A pause. “He owns a massive wood chipper.” 

Blinking like a deer in headlights, you chew on your bottom lip, simply nodding along. “Sounds good? I think. No. Yes. Very good.” You wince at all the uncontrolled mumbo-jumbo. “I’m sorry I was no help, too. I had to…talk to the man up above.”

“Eh, don’t worry about it. That must be why your pretty little knees are bruised.” 

Your breath comes to a harsh halt, ears burning like a wildfire. The Australian just keeps his brown eyes set on the tree for a second longer before turning to face you. Quickly, you relax your muscles. “You could make up for it by helping me with something else.”

You gulp. Suddenly, your mouth is overflowing with hot saliva. “With what?”

Dark orbs glue onto your delicate figure, a slight smirk playing out. And it looks so unfamiliar, not his own, that you create a distance. And just like that, it’s gone. Vanished just as fast as it slipped onto his pink lips. “Get on.” He crouches down and your jaw drops.

“Wha—like onto your shoulders?” Rolling his eyes in a goofy manner, he nods, picks you up safely, and places you on top. You screech, dizzy by the sudden altitude. “Put me down!”

“You’re fine. Just help me reach those. Been craving them all day,” he murmurs, voice raspy. The twenty-three year old is still slightly sweaty from his hard labor, and that’s clear when you cling onto his brown locks. Other than that, you’re as high as a kite; both figuratively and literally. 

You’ve known—seen—how tall and broad the Australian was, but being perched onto his wide shoulders was a sweet confirmation you couldn’t help but enjoy. “Move a bit forward.” He follows instructions, wide hands gripping onto your thighs to keep you steady. You giggle when a few fruits hit your face. “Watch it—and don’t you dare drop me.”

“Get,” he commands.

About three minutes pass by. You rip the cherries carefully, candy aroma filling the air, and plop them onto the basket. By all accounts, you’re well aware of your actions. The basket was full, now overflowing, really, and you could plant your ballet flats back onto the tall grass—but you don’t.

There’s something about feeling his touch; high electricity, shock waves nipping at your skin, soft pants. It’s pathetic how much you crave any ounce of physical touch he’s willing to give you, unknowingly.

“That should be good,” you whisper, meekly. He doesn’t respond, just swings you down as you let out a yelp. All of a sudden, you’re magically magnetic. And he wonders; if only. You hand the basket over, waiting nervously for him to thank you, at least. 

“Thank you,” he feels himself saying. “What do you say we play a little game? No prize. Only bragging rights.”

“O-okay.”

A singular cherry is handed over. He grins. Can you tie a knot using your tongue? “Wait—are you being serious?”

The red fruit dissolves inside his mouth, spitting the seed somewhere far enough away. Then, the stem flips into his mouth. “Come on. I’ll give you a head start.”

With wary hands, you rip the stem away from your own drupe, fitting the thin stick into your suddenly dry mouth. He stares intently, clenching his jaw, “Go on. Ten seconds.” Quickly, your lips start to move, twisting and turning. Pouting, then sucking back in. Your low breaths become heavy after a few tries. You think you’re getting it done right, the sudden ball forming is enough for you to guess that you must be doing something correct. 

The sound of his low mewls is what ends you. Doe eyes flicker up to face him, paying close attention to how his brown eyes wander up at the sky in concentration, occasionally squinting due to the bright sun. You can feel a thin layer of sweat hug you like a blanket as your movements slow down; a snail's pace compared to before.

For good measure, you fake your twists as you continue to simply admire. Too far gone, you blink hastily when he sticks his pink tongue out towards you, a stinking knot sitting nicely atop.

“I won.”

Gulp. “You sure did. Good job, Oscar.”

Long lashes flutter shut momentarily, head tossed back, sighing. “It wasn’t a fair fight. You weren’t doing anything. Other than staring at my lips.”

Flustered, you dig your hand into the bucket. “That’s not true! At all. At all, at all.” You munch harder, splitting a seed in half. You spit it out sourly. “You're just better at using your mouth than I am.”

It goes straight to his cock, your words. Opening his eyes, the brunette scrunches his nose. You’re avoiding his gaze. You’re good at doing that. A pro. But it leaves him to wonder some more. And that itself was dangerous when it dawned on him. 

He doesn’t like daydreaming anymore.

“Fuck it,” he grunts, kissing you harshly, like the night before. And you thought that blew your mind, but this? This left you gasping and reaching out for him even though he was pressed right against you. You could feel him buzzing, pinching your hips against his large hands. It’s perfect.

You don’t really understand how you end up straddling him on the grass, green straining your knees as you grind harder onto him, forcing your skin to burn with each stroke. This—this—must be as good as it gets. There can’t be more, but you weren’t complaining. It was enough. 

When his fingers dance underneath your dress, you halt, and everything comes crashing down. “No,” you pant. “I can’t. I’m sorry. I really am.”

“Why is that, baby?” he mumbles, lost on sucking the side of your neck. Looking up, his straight brows drew in together with concern. “What is it?”

“It’s just that…I’m—” Why is it so hard to admit? Brushing a strand of hair away, you purse your lips. “I’m a virgin, Oscar. It’s odd, I know, but I can’t sleep with you.”

“You think I didn’t know that?’

You freeze. “What?”

His thumbs circle your thighs, gently, swooning with how soft you feel. “I figured you were. Your purity ring sort of gave it away.” You blush hard, rolling off of him, playing with the thin band. 

“I wish I could do this—God, I really want to—but I can’t.”

Respecting your decision, he pats your hand with reassurance. The hot feeling remained between your legs and the pain between his. This was torture, you both know that, but what was there to do? It’s awkward for a while, that is, until he starts asking you about things that shouldn’t make you glow with happiness.

How was your day? I want to hear all about it. Do you think it’s bad to eat an entire bucket of drupes? Must be, right? In the long run? Hey, would you mind teaching me how to garden? You make it look intriguing. 

That seems to do it for you. Everything you ever promised flies out the window as you climb back onto his thick lap, and this time, he’s surprised by your actions. Clumsy fingers try their best to unzip his pants, but he only stutters against your kisses. N-no, we don’t have to rush anything. I, you, we—

“Shit, o-okay,” he sighs when you finally touch him, even in the slightest. He may be touch deprived, but so were you, so how far would any of this go? Flipping you over to lay against the tall grass, he winks teasingly and that effectively makes your heartbeat quicken. “Relax, sweetheart. Do that for me, yeah? Can you?”

“Yes. Yes. Yes.” 

The McLaren drivers press a kiss on the inside of your thighs before licking them. You shiver, though try your best to even your breaths. You shut your eyes, maybe if you act hard enough, you could somehow convince yourself that this wasn’t a war itself. To see how long you’d last. No—you would last. You had to.

“I’ve thought about it.” He slips your panties down, inch by inch. “A lot, as of lately. If you would taste just as sweet as I imagined. As sweet as those Cherry Cola’s you're overly obsessed with.” And he dives in, licking your arousal clean as you pant, chest heaving up and down like an erupting volcano. 

What were you supposed to feel—relaxed? In a frenzy? Most likely the latter because considering the way he was making your head spin said it all. The sounds he’s making forces you to involuntarily shut your legs around his face and his hand that now lies between you two. The stretch is a burning sensation that leaves you both gasping and moaning; it’s too much, but not enough.

More. Grinning up from in between your legs, he shakes his head full of curls, all thanks to the Aussie weather, and your dirty foreplay. “Does it feel good?” You whimper. “Good—good, baby. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.” Velvet walls clench around his long digits. “Hey, hey, look at me.”

Once your soft orbs connect to his intoxicating ones, his cock grows harder. “Okay, listen, it’s going to hurt a little bit, okay? But that’s completely normal; it’s like a…a stingy feeling. Do you understand?” I do, you pant. He grits his teeth when his calloused fingers brush against your g-spot and your head lolls back, exposing your sharp clavicle. He itches to mark you all over. “Do you want it, then?”

A zing. “Fuck, Oscar. I fucking want you.”

The brown eyed boy is all over you, kissing you up and down, gripping you tighter. It was an addiction in its truest form. For a split second, you frown when he slips out of you, but as soon as he starts unzipping his pants, you feverishly lick your lips. 

It dawns on you that you aren’t scared, nervous, or anything; you’re bubbling with excitement. You watch carefully as he jerks himself off a bit, his already large girth growing bigger. How is that possible? “I’ll start with the tip.” Leaning down, he pecks your pouty lips and you smile. “Let me know if it’s too much, we’ll stop and take a break. Or do anything, really,” he adds, cheekbones flushing red. 

“I’ll be okay,” you whisper. “I swear.”

You were being skinned alive, it was excruciating pain. You know he notices it when he starts brushing your hips, hoping to comfort you in some sort of way. Heavy breaths, numb lips from biting too hard, exposed breasts arching straight for him. He didn’t know whether to enjoy this or worry. 

“Breath, darling, breath. In through your nose, out through your mouth. There you go,” he congratulates, admiring your shaky breath. “You’re doing so good.”

“Osc, move…please.”

There was no more confirmation necessary that you were ready to go. His hips find motion, thrusting into you slowly. Nails scratch down his back as you moan loudly, almost yelping. “Y-you’re so big.” So, so, so, so big.  “So good.”

Nearly animalistic, he releases a grunt, pounding deeper into you, getting lost with the way you hug him tightly. You mewl, pressing your naked chest against his, and he nearly slips from his hands being set on top of the cold grass, but it was beautiful torture, all at once. 

From the way you tremble, to the way you look up at him, he loves it all. He realized it been too long, he’s missed this, he’s missed having a body undeaneath his, as fucked up as that sounds. 

And he—he must be a saint, himself. There’s a sort of invisible halo that lightens up around him, nearly blinding you. There’s a gut-wrenching stare he’s gifting you, making your stomach churn with pleasure. 

Wrapping his mouth around your sore buds, you let out a shaky sigh. Skillful tongue swirls the way one would suck on a lollipop; the heat intensifies. “Close?” But you’re not sure, you just know it feels good—ridiculously good. He must have known so, and must want to make your first experience the best you’ll ever have, because suddenly, you’re on all fours. 

As he slips in and out with such ease, you grip harshly at the tall grass. You can hear the sad rips with every thrust and every tug, but how can you feel bad when he feels so good? His cock rapidly brushes the magic spot, and you’re left seeing stars. “Oh God. I feel it, Oscar, fuck, fuck, fuck—”

“Tell me. Describe it.”

Your jaw locks, and your arms give up, flying down towards the grass, round ass high up in the air as he continues his movements. He groans at the sight, slapping your sweaty skin. Whining, you look back at him, grinning from ear to ear. The Australian looks up at the open sky, trying his best to push back the feeling of his upcoming orgasm, but it's hard to ignore the fact that an absolute angel takes him like no other.

And an Angel you were.

“Can feel your cock, Oscar. The way it pulses—so thick, so veiny, so sweet.”

An Angel with a vocabulary of Heathen.

“God, fuck me harder, please, Oscar, please.” He’s pretty sure you’re half-gone, half-present, but it only adds to the lust he carries for you. Just then, you feel the fresh cherry pressed up against your lips. Open, he demands and you follow straight away, ripping it from its stem. You nearly choke on the seed when he suddenly speeds up, limbs and arms burning from holding upright. For a moment, you stare back with an open mouth, admiring over the way his abs contract with every brutal push.

“Now spit.” Two seeds fly out towards the grass, laying there to taunt you as you pick up on your moans, ringing through the air. If you squint hard enough, you can spot the stars that mock the daylight sky. It doesn’t make sense, but then again, none of this does. “So pretty, sweetheart.” You swoon, feeling his arms hold you down. “Again—open.”

You’re expecting another set of cherries, thinking this might be some sort of prize, but as soon as you feel the familiar stick, you pout. No, you cry out. He chuckles. “Yes.” A pause. “You only get to come until you tie a knot.”

“You’re not being f-fair, holy shit.” Long fingers rub slowly against your puffy clit, throbbing with pain, begging to come all of his numbing girth. You clench your jaw, eyes screwed shut.

“We don’t have all night, go on. Move that pretty little mouth of yours.”

It’s a mission, it’s a task, it’s a fucking wreck. It’s impossible. You’re not that surprised, though, not when he thrusts into with twice as much force, triple speed; what a man. Loose tongue swirls at a weak attempt, but then he pinches your swollen bud, and you’re back to square one. You’re nearly there, excited to prove to him how much you wanted this and how you were able to multitask, but then he’s pulling all the way back, only his rosy tip awaiting by your entrance, and he’s coming back down, full-throttle. 

It was cruel.

But two can play that game, you suppose.

You pull away quickly, he blinks, and then you’re pushing him back, sprawled on the grass. He nearly whines from missing your warm cunt, but as soon as you climb to sit on his face, he grows more and more turned on. “Go on,” you push. “Use that pretty little tongue of yours.”

Dark eyes stare up at you, enjoying the way your body moves, hips rolling, riding his face at an impressive rate. The white nectar you're willing to spill out makes him lap at an embarrassing speed, desperate to taste the sweetness. 

Meanwhile, you’re gripping his hair, trying to feign indifference with the way his nose rubs against your lips, the way he keeps you in place with his watch covered hand, the other playing with your clit. It’s even, this is fair, but you still needed to reach your end. 

“I’m close,” you moan, head rolling back, but jaw continuing to tick. He hums and the vibrations cause you to squeeze your legs around his face. That seems to make him enjoy this far more. Unless you show me you’ve done it, then no, you’re not coming anytime soon. Your molars grind harder, white spots forming throughout your vision. “Shut up, just—fucking stop talking.”

“What do y’know? Miss Perfection has a potty mouth.” He pokes his tongue against your hole. “Dirty girl, eh?”

With one final suck, and one soft moan, you cum all over him. The Australian is quick to lick you clean, groaning pathetically deep. Gasping, you fall from your climax, slightly twitching with sensibility as he hauls you onto his lap. You giggle when he raises a teasing brow. 

“You got away with it—this time.”

“There’s going to be a second time?”

He stiffens, trying to play it cool. “Well, not anymore, you didn’t do what I asked for you to do—”

Opening your mouth, you stick your red tongue out, displaying the most perfect knot. He gapes, sticking his fingers in to retrieve it. “H-how?” A beat, sharp and accusing eyes. “Seriously, how?”

“Does it matter?” you ask, wide eyes back on for show. “I did it.”

“I…yeah, yeah you did,” he repeats in disbelief. He laughs. “You’re wickedly talented. That's an art.”

“Thanks,” you mumble, slowly, mixed with a giggle. “I tried my best for you.”

“I see that.” The brown eyed boy pinches your hip. “How was it?”

Sighing dreamily, as if napping on a cloud, your eyes twinkle. “I get it now. Why people have casual sex, I mean. It was amazing. Thank you.”

Casual, casual, casual, yes. Of course this was casual, why wouldn’t it be casual? He’s not looking to have anyone new in his life, and you’re barely understanding what any of this is, so yeah. Casual. 

“Was I bad?” you ponder, chewing on your bottom lip. “I know I’m no professional, but I—”

“You were perfect,” he reassures with a soft smile. “Best thing to come around, solemnly swear.” Swatting his arm, he snickers, catching your hand. You purse your lips. “I was right,” he murmurs when his lips graze over your own. You open your mouth, waiting for more.

“About?”

“You tasting as sweet as a Cherry Cola.” Then he connects your lips, and you’re left utterly smitten. You can hardly feel him slip your ring off, but you know so when your finger feels empty since the moment you first put it on. “Guess you won’t be needing this anymore?”

“Guess not, no. Keep it.”

“Could take it to a Pawn Shop, sell it for a couple dollars…”

“Hey! Be nice, you dimwit,” you warn. “You should feel special. Stupidly special.”

“I’m kidding. I’ll cherish it.”

“Creep.”

He groans, slapping your ass as you squeal. “There’s no right or wrong answer, it seems like. Very well, let's just leave it at thanks. So…thank you for trusting me.” You blush, looking away. Awkwardly, you reach for your dress, slipping it over your head. He coughs, dressing himself before choking back a much needed chuckle. “Looks like we got dragged through the mud.”

“Ah, ew, I can’t. I need to shower.” 

Reaching your end of the hallway, you press your back up against the wooden door as you sheepishly giggle when Oscar does the same. “Okay then…see you around?” 

“Around town?”

“Around the house.”

“In the garden?”

“In the attic, too, maybe. It still needs a good sweep.”

He rolls his eyes. “Do we still have time?”

“Before your parents get back from Costa Rica?”

“Yes.”

“Which is in—”

“A week.”

“Which is—”

“Seven days.”

“And roughly…”

“Enough time.”

“Enough time to do what?”

He laughs, eyes crinkling suggestively, and your heart pounds hard against your ribcage. “Come here and I’ll show you.”

“Yeah,” you ponder in deep thought before your lips stretch out into a bright smile of your own. He raises dark brows as you scurry over with bruised knees, a muddy dress, and an exploding heart. “Yeah, okay. Just until they get back.”

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting@chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire@alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar @anniee-mr @nebarious

[supertacodinosaurus]

Speak for Yourself

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x reader

Authors Note: not edited woohoo, back to your regularly scheduled programming, planning to shut up now lol

Word count: 4.6k I think

Warnings: light cursing, AUS 24, not edited, inaccurate information regarding f2 seasons for the sake of the plot

Summary: You’d been around as long as Logan had, it was no time until one of the drivers developed a crush on you. Oscar had thought it was obvious you weren’t single. Guess not.

—————————————————

Growing up, Oscar had always known he was quieter than a lot of his friends. He’d just rather keep to himself than be loud in his day-to-day life. Even Logan was considered loud when around the Aussie, and considering Logan was pretty quiet himself, that was impressive.

Everyone around him knew he preferred to be private. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to share things with his friends and family, it was just that having his own life was more convenient.

One of the things he’d always been private about, was his relationships. He’d had girlfriends growing up, none of them really sticking around too long as the times changed.

But then he met you. 2018. Logan had introduced you as his best friend, Oscar decided not to be offended. You were the opposite of the Australian. You were loud and happy and Oscar was absolutely captivated by you. He’d asked Logan if he was allowed to ask you out and the American had just laughed with a nod, Oscar practically running over to you the second the race was over.

Of course, you were 17 so Oscar didn’t exactly have the emotional maturity to realize he was in love with you at the time. It only took him six months to say it out loud, though. Three years later and you two were still going strong, Oscars career only moving upwards as he raced through the 2021 F2 season.

Logan had been trying to find a way to get you a job with him the whole season. You’d just agreed, choosing to follow him around for a whole year as he moved through different series. He’d never have told Oscar but he’d needed your support more than anything. Just having to cycle through seats and races and series had drained him, you needing to practically talk him off the ledge multiple times throughout the year.

But you did get a few races with Oscar. Toward the end of the year, Logan got to race alongside his friend, meaning you got to hang out with your boyfriend. Your boyfriend, who was looking likely to win the entire championship.

“Are you nervous?” You hummed under your breath, your words echoing around the silence of the dark hotel room. You feel Oscar shift behind you, his arm tightening around your torso. The next morning, he’d be racing to win the championship, hopes and dreams laid out before him.

“I don’t think so,” he pauses, contemplating his words, “I think I was. Not anymore though, I’ve got you with me. That’s enough for me.”

You take a second to think through his words before a grin splits your face, skin heating up as the sentence sinks in, “I love you, Osc.”

The man in question shifts again, swinging his other arm around to wrap you tighter in his hold, “I love you too.”

You eventually fall asleep, letting the quiet of the room paired with the sound of the beating heart behind you, lull you to bed.

The next day, Oscar wins the championship, your loud yells sounding uncharacteristically quiet in the cacophony of screaming voices that surround you. He doesn’t sprint over to you or anything, big gestures not really his style. But he does make eye contact with you with a warming smile once he steps out of the car and that’s enough for you to know exactly how he feels in that moment.

Logan, though, is being very weird. You were sat in your boyfriend’s room, watching Logan practically wear a hole in the carpet with his constant pacing. He walked back and forth through the room with an absent mind and shaky hands. Throughout the year you’d been forced to follow him around, you somehow hadn’t seen him this nervous the whole time. Impressive considering he’d met about 100 very important people in the span of about two weeks.

“What’s your problem?” Logan’s eyes snap toward you, eyebrows shooting up as he looks at you with wide eyes.

“Nothing,” you roll your eyes at his quickly worded response, he didn’t seem to be in a too concerning state of being so you opted to leave him alone. He’d be fine eventually. He’d also looked about the same last week when the Dolphins had almost lost. He’d recovered from that too.

Your head instead turns toward where the door has just opened. You watch your boyfriend walk through, his gaze immediately catching on the weirdo pacing in the corner.

“Hi, Logan?” Oscar hums with a confused look on his face. Logans gaze locks onto the older Aussie, a stupid grin splitting the Americans face.

“Congrats, Oscar. Have a great evening,” Logan says, slapping his friend on the shoulder. The dumb grin is back on the blond man’s face, proving your earlier hypothesis that he’d heal from his paranoia relatively quickly.

Oscar, on the other hand, is surprisingly quick to take over Logan’s role as village weirdo, moving to rush Logan out of the room. Logan leaves, not before he gives Oscar a suspicious glance but Oscar just replies by shoving him out. You dismiss it as annoyance at the man for intruding, though your eyes do stay trained on the door Logan had just left though for more than a few moments.

“He’s so weird,” you mumble, a confused look on your face as you think back to your friends actions.

“Yeah, he is,” Oscar replies, rolling his eyes. There’s a second layer of agreement laced through his words, though you don’t catch the fact he might have a different reason to agree. You hum, still trying to decode why your friend had been acting like that, not even figuring the cause might be the man in front of you.

Oscar pulls your attention back toward him as he rests a hand on your face, gently tilting your head toward him, “I have dinner reservations for tonight. That place you’d talked about this morning.”

You smile, completely forgetting about Logan’s loser behavior, “Sounds great.”

Oscar grins before letting go of your face, the feeling of his grasp still lingering on your skin, “I’m gonna take a shower, then we can go back to the hotel.”

You laugh, pushing him away from you gently. Oscar stumbles dramatically, causing your laugh to get louder. You don’t notice how Oscar’s smile gets bigger in sync with your happiness.

“Go, then. You stink.”

Oscar pulls a face, offense painting his features, “Rude.”

You snort, rolling your eyes as he moves toward the bathroom, “Go, nerd!”

Oscar laughs a final time before finally stepping into the room, shutting the door behind him. You collapse onto the couch you’re sitting on, mind running with thoughts of the dinner you were about to go to and recent memories of the pure elation you were feeling after Oscar’s win. Content fills your body as you relax, faint sounds of the shower the only sound filtering through your ears.

A few hours later, you’re sat across from your boyfriend, laughing over your food while sharing anecdotes back-and-forth, laughs probably a little too loud for the really nice restaurant.

Oscar grabs the bill from the waiter, smiling politely as the man walks away momentarily. Oscar pulls his card out and slides it back in his wallet before putting it in his back pocket, moving to stand up afterward. You grin as he holds a hand out to you, helping you to your feet.

You hum warmly, tiredness spreading through you as you approached the conclusion of a pretty long day. The food had been delicious and the atmosphere was wonderful.

You had thought you’d be going straight back to the hotel, considering Oscar still had to race again tomorrow.

But as you exit, Oscar pulls you away from the car, interlocking his fingers with yours. You shoot your eyebrows up as you glance at your boyfriend, a tight smile on his lips.

“I thought we could go for a walk on the beach, maybe? It’s really pretty,” Oscar stares straight ahead as he says the words, gaze seemingly avoiding yours. But when you don’t answer for a second, he does glance over to you and you finally nod with a small smile.

“Sure, I’d love that.”

Oscar gulps, a big grin splitting his face. He looks back toward the sand a bit ahead of you, moving to slowly stroll down it with you by his side. You let out a relaxed sigh, head falling into his shoulder. Oscar had been right, this was very pretty. Lights lit up the sand around you, reflecting off the ocean waves that crashed toward you. The sun is starting to set in the distance, casting warm hues over the sky.

You do stop to pull of your heels and Oscar is quick to hold them in his hands, resuming in his passive, slow walk.

You make bare comments about how pretty your surroundings were, the sound of silence just not satisfying you. Although you do leave enough time between sentences to truly take in the calmness that comes with the ocean scenery, wave sounds in the silence and all.

You eventually come to a point some ways down the beach that has more lights than the rest. They form a little semi-circle that perfectly light up the area. Oscar pulls you to a stop in the middle of them and he turns you both to look out at the ocean. You swear you hear a sound from behind you but when you glance over, the beach is clear of anyone else so you turn back around to gaze toward the sunset.

The sun is about halfway down in the horizon and you find your gaze locked on the pink and orange that fades through the sky. You’re so focused that you don’t notice that Oscars grasp on you disappears. When you turn around to point out the colors to your boyfriend, a sharp gasp leaves your throat.

“Oh my god, Osc-!”

You cut yourself off with a hand over your mouth as you look down at your boyfriend, kneeling in the sand, a small box clutched in his hands.

You don't remember much of his speech, too busy trying to not start absolutely sobbing. But you do remember the last words that leave his mouth before the ring is slid onto your finger.

“Will you marry me?”

You nod quickly, hands shaking as Oscar stands up to put the ring onto you. You stare down at it for a few seconds as Oscars hands rest on your waist, waiting for your reaction. You look up, moving through the shock in your veins. You grasp his face in your hands and pull him down into an emotionally-charged kiss, feeling his arms wrap around you tighter.

He smiles into the kiss, head resting against yours once you finally pull away. You look into his eyes for a second before laughing and leaning away, tears dripping down your face.

“That was so wonderful, Osc,” you say through your tears, wiping your face with the back of your hand.

“I’m glad you liked it,” Oscar smiles before it drops slightly, a grimace pulling onto his face, “because Logan’s been in that bush the whole time.”

Your head whips toward the bush Oscars hand is outstretched toward, eyebrows furrowed as you search the greenery.

An incredulous laugh leaves your throat as Logan pops his head up, a sheepish glance in your direction being all he offers in response. You snort, grinning as you notice the nice-looking camera in his hands.

“Come here, idiot,” you smile, waiting for your friend to emerge from the bushes so you can share this moment with the man who’d been your closest friend for your entire life, “‘At least, now I know why you were acting like that.”

That was, of course, 2021. Now, two years later, you were still following Logan around. But now, with the Floridian entering F1, you had a contract and a paycheck that came with it. Anyone who didn’t know Logan would think you were his assistant. Which you technically were. But anyone who did know Logan, would instead refer to you as his paid-best-friend, many jokes about him paying you to hang around being thrown his way from fans and fellow drivers alike.

It was very convenient that your husband was entering F1 at the same time as the man who employs you, opening up so many more chances to spend time with Oscar.

No one really questioned Oscar’s continued presence in the Williams garage. Everyone knew that him and Logan had always been close so when he was spotted in the white and blue, no one batted an eye.

Not even his new teammate, who claimed to know the Aussie better than anyone else on the grid. Lando just assumed Oscar was really eager to see his friend every day. Lando didn’t consider that he saw Logan every weekend anyway and that maybe the speed with which he got to Williams might be a little too fast to just be for a close friend.

No one from Williams questioned it either. They all knew that Logan and Oscar had grown up as friends. So when Oscar seemed pretty close to one of Logan's closest friends, they didn't question it. It only made sense.

You didn’t hang around the rest of the grid very often during Oscar and Logan’s first season. You didn’t really know any of the other drivers so you, instead, spent all your time in Williams, Alex and Lily becoming fast friends of yours.

But in 2024, you started to come around more, choosing to venture out of the garage and talk more to the drivers you’d met over the past year. One of the garages you had started to frequent more was McLaren, your husband quite excited to have you in the Papaya as opposed to your usual blue.

You went to the garage purely for Oscar. But he wasn’t always the only driver hanging around. The papaya garages were often frequented by drivers from other teams. Specifically, the Ferrari drivers loved to make their presence in the garages known.

It was the Australian GP, Oscar’s home race and only the third race of the season. You’d only came over to McLaren a few times over the past three races, but you were currently occupied with Logan after his car had been taken away so you were nowhere to be seen.

Oscar was sat with his teammate in hospitality, talking about pretty much anything as they waited out the few hours they had before they had to do anything.

“Lando!” The voice of a loud Spanish man has Oscar’s face splitting into a grimace. He turns his head to see none other than Carlos Sainz making his way toward the pair in papaya, Charles Leclerc in tow behind him.

Lando grins beside him, eyes lighting up as he looks toward his friend. Lando glances down toward his teammate to assess the look on the Aussies face before he stands up and clasps Carlos on the shoulder, “Hey, Carlos!”

Oscar looks away from the two of them, gaze landing on Charles who stands awkwardly to the side. Oscar catches his eye before gesturing for him to sit down in one of the free chairs around the table the McLaren boys had been occupying . Charles smiles gratefully, happy to break the strange stance he’d been stuck in previously.

After successfully bro-ing it out, Lando and Carlos eventually sit down at the table, chairs sliding against the grown loudly as they shift around.

“How are you both feeling about the race?” Carlos asks, eyes shifting between Lando and Oscar, though his gaze does stop on the Brit.

Oscar, though, pipes up to answer the Spaniards question before Lando can, “We feel pretty good. It’s a home race so that’s always great.”

Carlos hums absently, eyes seemingly searching for something behind Oscar. Oscar glances behind him quickly to see if there’s anything worth mentioning but is met with nothing but Papaya shirts. He turns back around. Weird.

Lando seems to notice Carlos’ weird behavior as well, his eyebrows furrowing as he glances around as well before looking back to the Spaniard, “You looking for something, Carlos?”

Carlos’ eyes snap back to the curly-haired man, heat rising to his cheeks as he realizes he’s been caught, “No, nothing.”

Charles snorts from beside his teammate, sticking a hand over his mouth in an attempt to stifle the laugh threatening to leave his throat. Carlos glares at the Monegasque lightly, only making Charles laugh harder before Carlos leans forward to explain.

“Where is that Williams girl?” Carlos asks with a small smile and a confused look passes over Oscar’s face. Who the hell is he talking about?

Charles seems to catch the matching confusion on the McLarens face, rolling his eyes at Carlos’ blunt delivery before starting to explain himself, “Carlos in love with that girl Logan hangs around with. The one that’s always in McLaren for some reason.”

Carlos nods in agreement, leaning back in his chair with satisfaction. Oscar feels his stomach drop.

“I’m not in love with her, I just think she’s really pretty.”

Charles laughs, eyes going wide in response, “Carlos you look for her every time we’re in this garage. You’ve been asking to come over here just so you can see her.”

Lando gasps dramatically, a big grin painting his face, “And here I was, thinking you’d been coming around so you could see me!”

The other three drivers at the table laugh but Oscar stays quiet, teeth digging hard into his bottom lip. An unreasonable annoyance filled him at Carlos’ words, eyes rolling as he watches the Spaniard go on about his love for you, Oscar’s wife.

“Why’ve you never gone to Williams to look for her?” Lando interjects after a few more seconds of mindless rambling from Carlos about you. Carlos glances sideways at Charles, a thoughtful look crossing his face.

“Never wanted to bother Logan, I guess. We’re not really friends,” Carlos shrugs.

Lando tilts his head, shaking it slightly, “I’m sure Logan wouldn’t mind.”

Oscar has to stop himself from scoffing at Landos words. If only he knew how much Logan would mind.

“Yeah, I’ll go over there in a minute. Maybe I’ll actually shoot my shot this time.”

Oscar stands up suddenly, chair screeching against the floor as it pushes backward.

“Where you going, mate?” Lando goes to ask but Oscar’s already practically ran away, feet carrying him quickly toward the Williams garage.

The three drivers he’s left behind look between each other with confused faces, all having no idea what made the Aussie leave so quickly.

Oscar, though, makes it to Williams in record time. Running between employees and the like, weaving his way to Logan’s room. He slams the door open, ignoring the strange glances from Williams employees around him.

He pauses as he sees the sight in front of him, Logans head resting heavily in your lap as you run a hand through the blonds hair. The dejected look on Logans face is enough to make Oscar grimace and move quieter as he enters the room. You glance up with the concerned expression still painting your features. Logan doesn't look up, eyes closed tightly and pure distaste clearly present.

“Hey Osc,” you practically sigh, eyes shifting back down to Logan for a moment. Only after hearing your words does Logan open his eyes, looking over toward the Aussie.

“Hey guys,” Oscar says carefully, his previous reason for rushing into Williams now momentarily forgotten.

Logan mumbles under his breath and closes his eyes again, nodding at Oscar before he does. You pat his head softly and he rolls over, moving his head away from you so you can stand up and talk to Oscar.

“Whats up?” you try to smile through your obvious grimace and Oscar smiles painfully in response.

He nods his head toward Logan who's now lying face-down on the couch, “Is he okay?”

“No, not a great weekend with the whole chassis thing,” You reply, trying to keep your voice low enough so Logan doesn't hear.

Apparently you weren't quiet enough as you hear a muffled shout echo through the small room.

“Im fine!” You can barely hear through the couch cushion but he’s just audible enough.

You shake your head at Oscar, sighing deeply, “Did you need something?”

Oscar nods slightly, grasping your hand in his and pulling you out of the room and away from Logan. Not that Oscar didn’t want to support his friend but he honestly didn’t know what to say. And he was obviously okay with you leaving or he wouldn’t have rolled away from you.

“Do you wanna come back to McLaren hospitality?” Oscar asks, dragging his finger over the wedding ring sat proudly on your ring finger. You notice his attention on the ring and tilt your head slightly.

“For any specific reason?”

Oscar shakes his head innocently, trying to take any look of suspicion off his face. Though it seems you know him too well as you raise an eyebrow and tilt your head, not believing his story.

Oscar rolls his eyes, admitting defeat, “Fine. Carlos was talking about how in love with you he is and I was getting annoyed about it.”

You laugh slightly, not expecting Oscar to claim that the Spaniard was in love with you. But when you see the blush on your husband’s face, you grin softly and pull him into a hug, grasping his face in your hands, “It’s okay, Osc. I only have eyes for you, darling.”

Oscar blushes harder, letting out a small laugh as you pepper his face with kisses and he reaches up a hand to bat your face away from his.

“Come on, let’s go show Carlos what he can’t have,” You laugh, marching forward with Oscar’s hand wrapped tightly in yours. Oscar laughs, following along behind you. But he’s secretly grateful you were willing to shut Carlos’ pining down, not sure if he could take Carlos, of all people, talking about his crush on you for any longer, “Even if he’s not there I’ll still get Logan something to eat.”

You reach the McLaren hospitality quickly enough, garnering some strange looks from people around you as they see your clasped hands. But you pay them no mind, more focused on getting to the food. Oscar drags along behind you, watching as you grab two plates of food, careful not to spill as you balance the plate for both yourself and Logan. Oscar untangles your fingers from his so he can grab one of the plates out of your hand, leading you toward a table so you can eat the food you’ve grabbed for yourself.

Oscar sits across from you as you start to pick at the food lazily, stabbing a lone grape with your fork before bringing it to your mouth. You seemed to have stopped caring about the potential Carlos sighting but Oscar was on high-alert, eyes trailing over the room.

His eyes catch on a scrap of red fabric over your shoulder and he moves his chair slightly closer to you, praying the Spaniard doesn’t catch sight of you. Oscar moves his knee to knock against yours and you smile warmly through the bite of watermelon you’d just taken.

You sit peacefully for a few minutes, eating quietly as Oscar seemingly keeps watch. You don’t ask him why he couldn’t just tell Carlos you were married himself but you don’t question his motives. Men were confusing.

Both of you are surprised when a figure walks up to stand above you. You glance up and see a grumpy-looking blonde man with tousled hair and a disgruntled face looking down at the two of you, exhaustion clear in his eyes.

“Hey, lo. Gotchu food,” You say, sliding the plate toward the American. He hums, glancing around the room. Oscar watches as he sees Carlos and then looks back, glancing between the Aussie and the enemy he had decide to make today.

“Brb,” Logan mumbles with crossed arms, slinking off to a destination you can’t see. But Oscar can, and he watches as his friend slides up to a certain Ferrari driver, his usual shy attitude abandoned due to his already-shit race weekend.

Oscar takes the opportunity to fully move his chair next to yours, grasping your open hand in his, passively fiddling with your wedding ring. You roll your eyes but relax your hand in his, allowing him the chance to be as possessive as he wants.

“Hey, man,” Carlos says as Logan reaches him. Really good timing actually, he’d been wanting to talk to him about you.

Logan blinks through his tiredness, frowning at the older man, “Hey, Carlos.”

Carlos grins, deciding to stick through the poor attitude from the blonde man in front of him, having no idea just how poor this was about to go for him, “I was actually going to ask you about that friend of yours. The pretty American one you’re always with.”

Logan blinks again, glancing back toward the papaya polo sat next to you before he looks back, “Y/N?”

Carlos shrugs, smile unfaltering, “I guess so, any way you could get me her number?”

Logan chews his cheek a bit, eyes quickly switching between the ground and Carlos’ face, “Nah, man. She's taken.”

Only then does Carlos’ face falter, his eyebrows furrowing slightly with confusion, “Really?”

Logan holds back his laugh, rubbing at his eyes as he starts to lose the tiredness he'd previously had, “Yeah, yeah. Married actually.”

Carlos’ head snaps toward the Williams driver, mouth opening slightly as he shakes his head, “No way, mate. You’re joking.”

“I don’t think I am,” Logan smirks, head tilting toward where you’re sitting, “You could ask her but I don’t think he’d let you get within 10 feet after this morning.”

Logan watches as Carlos’ gaze lands on you and your husband, mouth gaping as he catches Oscar’s hands fiddling with the ring on your finger, “Shit…”

“Yeah, shit indeed,” Logan nods, starting to walk away and leave the Spaniard to revel in his shock, “Have a good race, Carlos. I won’t be seeing you out there.”

You finally look up to see Logan sit down across from you, sliding his own plate over to himself and starting to munch down on the food you’d picked for him.

Oscar raises an eyebrow as he catches the incredulous look on Carlos’ face, “What was that about?”

“Just told him you’re married,” Logan mumbles through a mouth full of strawberries, chewing passively, “Had to spell it out for him, been dropping hints for months.”

You glance toward you friend with confusion painting your face, “What do you mean?”

“Yeah, I’ve been scaring him off from Williams since last October. Don’t think he even realized I was doing it on purpose.”

You and Oscar catch eyes, small grins breaking out on your faces as Logan continues to stare intently at his snack.

“Thanks, Logan,” you smile, happy to hear about your friends committed defense of your marriage.

“Don’t thank me, I’m still in a bad mood,” he says as he stabs a grape violently, biting the green sphere with a crunch.

Oscar hums, pulling you into him and resting his head on top of yours, eyes falling closed momentarily, “Sure, Logan. Eat your food, you’ll feel better.”

Logan just replies with a stab of his fork and you laugh, relaxing against your husband behind you, grateful for the great friend you’ve got in front of you.

————————————————

Tags: @casperlikej @evie-119

[supertacodinosaurus]

Talk Your Sh*t - Jenson Button

Summary: After a new commentator joins the Sky Sports team, Jenson and her bond over a dislike of Danica when they come to Miami.

Age gap - Mid-20s/black cat!reader

Warning: Mild themes of misogyny within F1/media

No part 2 requests please

Jenson wasn't sure if y/n was brought in to purposely get under Danica's skin the way Danica gets under his skin. But it's safe to say the public has deemed Jenson and y/n the sex appeal of watching Sky Sports.

Y/n is actually very knowledgable on the sport and with the exception of Danica, gets along very well with the team.

"Sorry, I think I'm going to have to disagree with you, Danica." Y/n states as what has become now a famous line of the weekend and it's still only Friday.

Jenson has already begun to find himself smiling every time y/n speaks while not being able hide his grimace whenever Danica speaks.

They cut the segment and before the group can divide, Danica seems to have hit a boiling point with y/n.

"I'm surprised you're getting away with wearing the outfits you do. They're quite skimpy. What are you trying to attract some of the drivers?" Danica comments seeming to try and make it a joke but y/n frowns not hiding her offended reaction while Jenson goes to speak in the young woman's defence. But y/n beats him to it.

"What about my outfit is skimpy exactly?-Actually, don't answer that. Consider this strike 1, 2 more strikes and I'll take you straight to HR, your hand in mine and I'll have you repeat every out of line comment you've opened your mouth to make." Y/n states then scoffing. "And for the record, if I was trying to attract the drivers. You'd know about it."

That's true. If y/n set her eyes on a driver, Jenson is pretty sure she could have her pick. Maybe of even a couple of the drivers who are in a relationship.

Really her outfit isn't skimpy, she's wearing almost an outfit that's mourning-worthy. Black heels, tight and sort of a short skirt with a slightly oversized blazer with a white blouse under the blazer. Truth be told, the appeal of her is more than she's a gorgeous woman who dresses well, is young and looks good on tv. She's styled well, she's confident, and not afraid to share her opinions which do tend to disagree with Danica but they're well founded opinions.

Y/n is minimal and classy with an undertone of sexiness that might be easy to be distract by.

Today she's wearing full black tights but yesterday something that had every mans attention was stockings with ever so slightly visibly suspenders that were clipped on to keep her stockings up.

Carlos, Lando, Pierre and Logan were all caught in HD slow-mo staring and doing double takes of the young woman.

Danica seems to get the hint that her presence isn't wanted so she takes off and y/n scoffs rolling her eyes and shaking her head.

"Remind me to never cross you." Jenson comments making y/n turn and smile.

"I don't think you'd have the audacity to make a comment like that unprovoked." Y/n sighs before she smiles at him. "I don't think I've earned a spot in your bad books yet, have I?"

"No. No. I think you might be my favourite person to work with already." Jenson smiles watching her seem to get a little flustered at his words. "Wait, was that a crack in the confidence that I seen?"

"I-As if." Y/n scoffs in a quick recovery, shaking it off quickly.

"You hungry? We should grab some food before we're pulled into more recording." Jenson states making y/n smile and nod.

Sitting down together, y/n does gain some attention from other commentators from other broadcasters. But eventually the two are left on their own and y/n sighs deciding to speak of the elephant in the room.

"You know, you should try masking your expression when Danica speaks. Especially if you're going to look so happy whenever someone else is speaking." Y/n comments leaning back in her seat as she cross on leg over the other making her skirt slide up a little. Something he shouldn't notice but he does and he has to force his gaze away. This woman is nearly 20 years younger than him. He can't be the old perv who has wondering eyes.

And for some reason there's something in Jenson wishing she was wearing the stocking and suspender duo for the outfit today.

"I am happier whenever someone else is speaking." Jenson states honestly then shrugging. "I don't even know why they've still got her here when they've brought you in. You add much more to the conversation and you look good doing it."

Y/n doesn't say much back, just looking down with a small smirk before she shrugs a little.

"So humble." Jenson laughs while she finally looks up then clears her throat as her phone goes off.

"Oh...Fun. Apparently I'm being paired with Danica for more stuff-oh haha! You are too." Y/n grins watching the man look at her with a grin.

"I'll just stand and watch the two of you bicker."

"I'm not that bad."

"You've said the sentence sorry, I think I'm going to have to disagree with you, Danica at least 5 times since yesterday and we've not been on air that much." Jenson laughs while she grins at the man before placing her phone back down and picking up a chip from her plate.

"I'm not that bad...I just think it's important we all voice our opinion if it's not on the same understanding." Y/n smiles earning a look form Jenson while she just flashes her a teeth in a smile.

-

Y/n and Jenson eating meals together in the paddock and just sort of gluing themselves to one another was beginning to be a habit for the two and it was a habit others were beginning to notice.

"Wait, wait. Don't leave me." Y/n gasps when the cameras cut and Jenson seems to take off since she'd said something that disagreed with him only slightly. "Jenson..."

Now she's just doing it on purpose. Whining his name has an unnecessary effect.

"I'm sorry." Y/n pouts making him slow his fast pace away. He wasn't really mad but he did maybe just want to tear him. "You left me with Danica."

"Consider it payback." Jenson states as he turns finding her looking up at him as they stand face to face.

"I'm sorry." Y/n pouts again and it takes every fibre of Jenson's being to maintain the self control not to close the space between them.

He feels like a teenager with a crush. He's a grown man for fuck sake and this woman is making him melt.

"You're forgiven." Jenson declares making her perk up and damn her because the brightness in her eyes actually makes his heart skip a beat.

"Are we intruding?" A sly smiling Lando questions as he passes by making y/n flush stepping away.

Truth be told, y/n is more successfully hiding an unshaken childhood crush on Jenson. She's be fighting the urge to climb on the man any time he sits down.

No doubt he sees her as a child, probably a mentor and mentee situation. Not that that's what she's going for.

Lando has already disappeared since he really was passing by and making a comment which he thinks needed to be made to point out that everyone is beginning to notice the tension between them.

Suddenly it dawns on y/n and she decides it's time to stop being shy about it.

"So what are you doing tonight?" Y/n asks making Jenson literally do a double take looking very shocked. "Just...usually I do nothing but go back to my hotel room and do nothing."

"Are you...asking me on a date, y/n y/l/n?" Jenson smirks looking like the playboy that he's quite famous for in his only slightly younger years.

"Would you...say yes if it was a date?" Y/n mumbles feeling the drop in her confidence because she wasn't exactly expecting him to call her out so obviously, or loudly.

"Yes."

Oh thank fuck.

"Then yes."

-

Y/n likes to think that she's got quite a dark feminine energy, she's not the doe eyed golden retriever type of girl. She's the siren eyes black cat.

But on a date with Jenson he's described her as cute and funny and even made a comment about her adding light to the otherwise dim room. He's charming and certainly knows how to converse on a date.

"So I have to know, when did I become so irresistible that you had to ask me on a date?" Jenson asks, the teasing mischief behind his eyes making her flush. This man just brings out a side she wishes she could hide but it's no use with him.

"Just living the dream. Meeting you was the whole goal when I decided to pursue sports journalism." Y/n shrugs making Jenson smirk. "Don't get cocky. I could still team up against you with Danica."

"That's a lie." Jenson laughs shaking his head while y/n grin at him.

"Ok, maybe that is a lie. I don't think I could ever try to befriend her. The amount of fans who call me out online and say they would do what I do." Y/n shrugs then picking up her glass of pink gin and lemonade.

"I love it. I think you are the best commentator we've had added to the team in years." Jenson shrugs making her beam at him. "I'll be pushing for them to keep you. Even if they drop me."

"As if they'd choose to drop Jenson Button, F1 world champion 2009 from the team." Y/n jokes before sighing and smiling as she sits back in her seat. "I think I dreamt about having a date like this for years."

"Here I am, making dreams come true." Jenson hums earning a laugh. "I would return the gesture but you're not an F1 champion."

"Wow...That's a violation. My feelings are hurt now."

"Oh sounds like I've got some grovelling to do."

-

There was no hints throughout the weekend, Jenson and y/n silently agreed to sort of take things slowly. Which is exactly what they did. They took things slowly and after a couple months of dating and building the perfect dynamic, which was really built after the first date.

Y/n decided it was time for a soft launch ahead of COTA.

She chose a mirror selfie what hide his face but there was definitely enough on show that it wasn't exactly a hard to tell it was Jenson.

Her comments were a blaze with his name and even a couple drivers along with many within F1 sent her messages some asking flat out and some just question marks searching for answers.

But she didn't reply and only decided to let their entrance in the paddock speak for itself.

Jenson quite enjoys the fact he is openly able to somewhat lay his claim. Y/n is a woman who could have her pick of people, and while people can say he's a man who can have his pick too. His pick was y/n and there was a chance she might not have reciprocated it.

Y/n definitely isn't expecting the very public kiss with one hand up cupping her face but Jenson feels her smiling against his lips and her face is definitely heating up under his hand.

"Well if I didn't send a message, you just hard launched a confirmation." Y/n whispers breaking the kiss while Jenson grins down at her.

"Can't I kiss you when you look so good?"

"Oh so usually I don't look good?" Y/n teases earning a groan a little.

"Trust you to twist my words." Jenson laughs then pecking her lips again. "You look good everyday. That's why I've been kissing your everyday."

"Mmm...good recovery."

"I try." Jenson smirks making her laugh before she steals a kiss this time then spins, linking their hands and beginning to walk very confidently through the paddock. Though they come across Martin, Danica and Crofty, all of whom look surprised to say the least.

After a small conversation, of which none of them address the obvious till Danica does pipe up. Unable to keep a petty comment to herself.

"You weren't wrong, we really do know when you're trying to attract someone."

"Well...I'm doing a bit more than attract Jenson." Y/n shoots back smoothly while Jenson looks at her fairly proudly and smug. "But I'm glad you can pick up on it. I know sometimes you struggle with seeing the obvious when it's right in front of you."

Martin and Crofty both pull expressions that are a combination of shock and maybe mildly impressed.

"Anyway, we're going to grab lunch. See you guys later for the broadcast."

[supertacodinosaurus]

── ★ ELEUTHE'S DIRECTORY

welcome!

eleuthera, eleuthe, or ele ୨୧ she/her ୨୧ twenty ୨୧ avid nhl watcher ୨୧ artistic flair for the dramatic ୨୧ a dreamer & realist ୨୧

eleuthe watches: CHI, NJ, VAN, & LA (hardcore CHI-TOWN fan at heart but adopted a few strays)

hyper fixations with sports, chai drinker, & hopeful romantic

.·:*¨ ¨*:·. MASTERLIST! .·:*¨ ¨*:·.

── ✩ KEY: ✧ (angst) | 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 (fluff)

୨୧ MISC. ONE SHOTS ୨୧

── ★ LUKE HUGHES (43)

GREEN, YELLOW, RED ༻༺ in which the reader (who has been been talking to luke) shows up to a traffic light themed party at UMich wearing green (green = single, yellow = talking stage / it’s complicated, red = taken) and he shows up wearing red

ESPRESSO ༻༺ in which luke is addicted to the reader like espresso, even though they just met... pt. 2

THE "i love media" SOCIAL GIRL & THE "i hate media" HOCKEY BOY (ongoing series) ༻༺ in which luke is in love with the media girl who worked at UMich & now works for the Devils... pt. 1 | pt. 2

(𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪) DAY IN A LIFE ༻༺ in which you forget to edit luke out of a video you uploaded and now people are speculating about your relationship

(✧) CASUAL ༻༺ in which luke wants things to remain “casual” with the reader, but all you want is for him to call you his girlfriend

(✧) (𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪) EMERGENCY CONTACT ༻༺ in which luke finds out that he’s not his girlfriend’s emergency contact (it’s jack) which makes luke jealous & upset

(𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 ) BABYGIRL CODED ༻༺ in which the reader teaches luke what "babygirl coded" means

(𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 ) INTERTWINED ༻༺ in which the reader goes to get her nails done and luke comes with

(✧) END OF BEGINNING ༻༺ in which the reader finally returns back to new jersey after her breakup with luke over two years ago

── ★ JACK HUGHES (86)

(✧) BACKBURNER ༻༺ in which the reader has been put on the backburner within her relationship and continues to stay with him

THERE'LL BE HAPPINESS AFTER YOU ༻༺ in which the reader reminisces on her breakup with jack, acknowledging how well the relationship was and how at the end of the day, their relationship was filled with happiness

(𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 ) CONFESSIONS OF A DRUNK GIRL ༻༺ in which the reader has had too much to drink at the bar and confesses her love to jack, saying that she loves him for the first time, unknowing she is in fact saying it to jack’s face

THE DAY I MET U, I STARTED DREAMING ༻༺ in which jack gets a small case of yips after meeting the most beautiful woman ever. even if she was wearing a nico hischier jersey

(✧) VALENTINE'S DAY ༻༺ in which the reader & jack had broken up a few weeks before valentine’s day & jack reminisces on their past while his valentine’s day gift for her stays unopened on his coffee table

SOMETHING IN THE ORANGE (series) ༻༺ in which jack and the reader are friends, then not friends.... pt. 1 | pt. 1.5 | pt. 2 | pt. 2.5 (on hiatus)

── ★ QUINN HUGHES (43)

A KNOCK AWAY ༻༺ in which the reader lives across the door to quinn and would ask him for favors just to talk to him

(𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 ) BIRTHDAY BLUES ༻༺ in which the reader gone during quinn's birthday and he’s sad all day, unknowing that she is throwing him a surprise party 

(✧) THE 30TH ༻༺ in which the the reader gets into a car accident and quinn recounts the memory of finding out while in a stand-still on the same highway

(𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 ) BOY WITH THE BLUES ༻༺ in which quinn is going through a rough time adjusting to being the youngest captain in the league & the reader comforts him

(✧) I DON'T WANT YOU LIKE A BEST-FRIEND ༻༺ in which quinn has started to fall in love with his best friend & he tries the whole day to tell her how he feels, but is isn’t until he’s slightly drunk that he confesses his feelings for the reader

LIVE NOW, THINK LATER ༻༺ in which the reader goes out to the bar with her friends to celebrate the reader’s commencement from law school & meets quinn celebrating a win

── ★ TREVOR ZEGRAS (11)

(✧) ANAHEIM ༻༺ in which the reader looks back on her breakup with trevor zegras– wishing things could have been different. she wishes that she didn’t have to breakup with him, but she felt like she needed for the sake of saving him

last updated! APRIL 25, 2024

@ELEUTHERAFAIRY all rights reserved

[supertacodinosaurus]

A KNOCK AWAY — quinn hughes

SUMMARY! in which the reader lives across the door to quinn and would ask him for favors just to talk to him

INVOLVED! quinn x reader 

WARNINGS! 

BEFORE YOU START! i don’t know how the hughes act irl! this is just an imagination!

extra! 

find my masterlist → here!

The first time you met Quinn, you asked him for some flour. 

Did you really need flour? No.

Did you want to see your hot neighbor? Yes.

You saw him move in almost a year ago and you had always found him attractive. The two of you barely interacted. A smile whenever you saw each other on the elevator or a nod whenever you would leave your door the same time as he did. Just small interactions to acknowledge the another. 

You finally figured out his name after some of his mail ended up in your mailbox and you knocked on his door to hand it to him.

“Thanks. I’m Quinn, by the way.”

“Yeah I kinda figured it out with your name on the mail,” you said with a smile. “I’m y/n.”

── ★

“You should just knock on his door and ask him for something stupid like flour or salt,” your best friend said.

The two of you were sitting on the living room floor, sipping some wine as the two of you were chatting. 

“That sounds stupid, but I think that would work.”

So here you were, standing in front of his apartment, your apron covered in flour and hair up as a result of you trying to bake something for him and a few of your other neighbors. The oven was on and your first batch of banana bread was in the oven, your apartment filling up with the sweet smell.

You raised your hand to knock and the door and before you could, the door opened and Quinn stood at the door. 

“I saw you coming,” he said, shooting you a smile. “What’s up?”

“Hey, I’m out of flour and I was wondering if you had any,” you asked, returning the smile.

“I think I might have some,” he said. 

He left the door wide open as you watched him grab a bag from his pantry as you continued to stand outside.

“Here you go,” he said, handing you the bag of unopened flour. “What are you baking?”

“Some banana bread and then some strudels. Oh– and maybe a pie,” you said excitedly. “I ran out of flour (you didn’t) and I didn’t want to run to the store to grab a bag while my oven was on.”

“Yeah no worries,” he said. “I hardly even use flour.”

“Thanks, Quinn. I’ll buy you a new bag when I run to the store.”

“You don’t need to. It’s all good. Maybe bring me a slice of whatever you make with the flour,” he said with a little shrug.

“Will do.”

── ★

You finished baking your batches of banana bread as well as a few pies and a dozen strudels. Grabbing a large tote you had stuffed into your closet, you packed a few slices of banana bread, a mini-pie, and two strudels filled with strawberry and apple.

Leaving you apartment, you knocked on Quinn’s door and waited patiently for him to come to the door. Not even ten seconds later, the door opened and Quinn looked like he was getting ready to leave. 

“Your baked goods,” you said, handing him the bag.

“Thanks, y/n. The smell of your apartment has been lingering on the floor and it smells so good,” he said, smiling at you.

“Yeah, let me know if you want baked goods. I take requests on the weekends,” you said. 

“I might take you up on that offer. Thanks, y/n. I’m on my way to leave right now to the arena,” he said.

“Arena? Oh– have fun?” You questioned. “Are arenas fun? I have no idea.”

He looked at you like you had something on your face.

“You don’t know?” He pondered, his large duffel bag hanging from his shoulder.

“Know what?” You asked, even more confused. 

“Turn on CBC at 7,” he said, shrugging.

“Okay?” You said, confused. “See ya, Quinn.”

“I’ll see you later.”

You closed your apartment door and watched as the clock reached seven in the evening. It was a Saturday night and you and your friend had plans to go out the bars so you decided to get ready in the living room. 

Bringing a mirror and your makeup to the couch, you turned on the TV and sipped on a glass of wine as you put your hair back.

A hockey game, huh.

The Canucks were playing the Oilers. You weren’t that well-versed with Hockey at all which was strange considering that Canada was hockey central. You could probably name all the teams but when it came to players, you knew nothing.

You had the television on as you put on your makeup, barely paying attention to the TV until they said something that caught your attention. 

“Quinn Hughes, the youngest captain in the NHL at the moment, has been taking charge over this dominant start to the Canucks season.”

“They are currently on a 3-game winstreak and they’re looking to make it 4. Hughes is currently the only defenseman on the board with the amount of assists he has contributed to the team.”

The camera panned over to Quinn who was warming up, shooting some pucks into the net.

Quinn Hughes. Captain of the Canucks. Hockey Player.

“Huh,” you said to yourself. “Quinn Hughes.”

You finished getting ready, the first period coming to an end before you decided to leave to go to the bars with your friend.

── ★

It was 2am when you returned back to your apartment. Your friend’s brother had you wrapped around his shoulder– seeing that you had a few too much to drink. 

Quinn heard commotion in the hallway and he peered at his clock and groaned. He walked over to the front door and peered out of the peephole, seeing you and a guy carrying your body. Quinn felt a spike of jealousy before he reminded himself that the two of you barely were acquaintances. He watched as the guy helped you inside and waited for him to come back out. 

Quinn waited 10 minutes before he reprimanded himself like a idiot for standing and peering like a creep. The guy wasn’t going to come out. He was probably your boyfriend and Quinn had no right to be jealous like that.

The boy sighed as he got back into his bed and tried to go back to sleep.

He couldn’t.

You woke up with a pounding headache that morning and saw that there was a cocktail of pills on your bedside table with a glass of water. Alex probably left it for you before he left you alone in your room. Alex and you planned that he was going to stay over for the night because he was also drunk and you didn’t want him to take an Uber back to his apartment when he was also drunk. 

You went into the bathroom and washed your face before coming to your closet and grabbing a sweater and some yoga pants. Walking into the living room, you saw that Alex was still fast asleep on the couch. Sending him a text, you walked outside with your phone, hood up to go grab some food from the bagel place a block away.

With the bagels in hand, you walked back to the apartment and knocked loudly on the door for Alex to let you in because your keys were sitting inside on the counter. You knocked once more when he didn’t come to the door. 

You flinched as the door behind you opened, revealing Quinn.

“Are you okay?” 

“Yeah,” you mumbled out. “Got locked outside and now I’m waiting for Alex to open it for me.”

“I’m coming,” you hear out from your door.

You shot Quinn a small smile as your door opened, revealing a clearly hungover Alex.

You handed him the bag, not before he recognized Quinn standing across from you.

“Holy shit, you’re Quinn Hughes. I’m a big Canucks fan. Sick goal by the way,” Alex said, giving Quinn a wave before walking back into the apartment.

“He’s a big Canucks fan,” you said, laughing. “Watched the game from the bar yesterday. Three assists and a goal,” you said with a whistle. “You’re kind of a big deal,” you said, smiling at Quinn.

“Just played a good game yesterday,” he said, shrugging. “I could sign a few things for your boyfriend if you want,” he offered.

You let out a laugh as Quinn looked at you very confused.

“Alex is very much gay and is only into men,” you said, your smile now engulfing your face. “If anything, he wants you more than me,” you said with a laugh. “However, he probably has a few things he wants you to sign.”

“Oh,” Quinn said, letting out a laugh as well.

Quinn’s body was somehow more relaxed than he felt last night. You didn’t have a boyfriend and the man that came home with you was not into women.

“I’m so hungover,” you said, opening the door back into your apartment. “I’m gonna load up on some carbs before I throw up again. See ya, Quinn.”

“See ya,” he said in reply. 

── ★

The second time you asked for a favor, it was Quinn’s help in jump-starting your car. 

Did you know how to jump-start your car? Yes.

Did you want to see your hot neighbor do it for you? Yes.

So the two of you were down in the garage and since the two of you were the only two on that side of the apartment, you had the parking spaces next to each other.

“So you have to connect the red cable to the red battery terminal and then the black cable goes to the black battery terminal,” Quinn said, explaining to you how to jump-start it. 

You smiled to yourself as Quinn explained it to you, unbeknownst to him that your dad grew up fixing up older cars and taught you how to do any mechanical thing by yourself.

He started his own car and the two of you chatted while you waited for your car to charge up a little. 

“How often has your car been having these problems?” 

“Um maybe a week. I just haven’t had time to buy a new battery.”

“I can go drive you to get a new one.”

“I’ll be fine,” you said, knowing that your new battery should be coming today.

Once your car turned on, you gave Quinn a high-five before putting away your cables.

“Thanks, Quinn. I owe you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Quinn said.

A week later when you needed to change your oil, Quinn spotted you changing it on your own like a pro. He was home earlier than usual and he was on his way to his car to grab his gear bag from earlier until he spotted you. Your car was lifted using car jacks and you had your toolbox open next to you. Even Quinn didn’t have a tool box as extensive as yours. 

Your overalls were covered in dirty oil and the way your hair was up and out of your face made his heart flutter. You slid out from under your car with a breaker bar in hand and he just watched in awe. He watched as you started pouring more wiper fluid in your car and more coolant, his jaw dropped since you played him like a fiddle.

There was no way you didn’t know how to jump-start your car. The way you were confident in changing your oil and other tasks, not even peering at your phone to look at directions which him realize that you knew your way around cars– probably even more than him.

So he put two-and-two together and he laughed at himself. His cute neighbor wanted his help.

── ★

The third time you asked for a favor, you needed help bringing a new couch to your apartment.

“Quinn?” you asked, knocking on his door.

The door opened and it wasn’t Quinn who opened it. Instead it was a younger guy.

“Hey?” He asked, a puzzled look overtaking his face.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought Quinn was home.”

“My brother is probably just in his room,” the guy said, inviting you to come inside. “You’re y/n, right?”

“Yeah, how did you know that?”

“Quinn talks about you a lot,” he said. “I’m Luke, his younger brother.”

“He talks about me?”

“The cute neighbor who lives across the hall from him. Yeah, definitely you,” he said. 

Cute neighbor. Huh?

“Y/n?”

Quinn came into the living room, worry on his face.

“Hey, are you busy?” You asked, your fingers playing around with the hem of your shirt.

“No, what’s up.”

“I got a new sectional for my apartment and I need help bringing it into my apartment. They left it in the mail room.”

“Yeah, c’mon, Luke. Grab Jack too.”

So that was the first time you met Quinn’s brothers. You watched with a smile as the three boys argued with each other in the elevator on how to carry the box.

The three boys entered your apartment and started taking the parts and attempting to read the directions. You watched as they argued over the instructions and they ended up throwing it away and doing it based off the “vibes”.

It was a green couch to match with the green and black theme in your apartment and as the three boys were putting together your couch, you started making lunch and a few baked goods for them.

“Your apartment looks so much better than mine,” Quinn said, a screwdriver in his hand. “It really feels like a home.”

“Considering that your apartment looks like you left the stage display decorations, I have to agree with you,” you said, laughing.

You learned that Jack and Luke both played hockey for New Jersey and you were surprised at how all three brothers ended up playing professionally. 

They told you about it being a bye-week for the two teams which allowed them to fly out to Vancouver to hang out with their brother.

“Your mom must be a talented and amazing woman,” you said, handing the boys an asian-style fusion bowl with brown fried  rice, a mixed stirfry, and a combination of kung pao and orange chicken. 

“Trust me, she is,” Quinn said.

“Holy shit, this is good,” Luke said, scarfing down the bowl.

“His stomach is like a black hole,” Jack explained to you. “All he does is play hockey and eat.”

“Don’t worry I have extras,” you said, grabbing all the chicken and side dishes and placing it onto the table. “Thanks for setting up my couch, by the way.” You said, thanking the three boys.

As the four of you chatted, you couldn’t help but notice that Quinn’s eyes barley left yours. 

What you didn’t know was that Quinn was starting to like you. More than he ever liked anyone before.

── ★

On your way to ask for a fourth favor, Quinn’s door was open ajar and you could hear his conversation with whoever was on the phone.

“Yeah, she just keeps asking me for favors. Yeah– the one that came over last time. Mhm- yea- no, I haven’t said anything to her.”

Oh.

Of couse Quinn was annoyed that you always asked him for favors. You didn’t mean to eavesdrop, it kind of just happened. The way he sounded on the phone was annoyed. Whether he was annoyed at you or annoyed at whoever he was on the phone with, you didn’t stick around to find out.

So, you stopped asking for favors and stopped bugging Quinn.

Quinn frowned as he stood in front of his door.

He hadn’t seen or talked to you in a while and he would usually see you whenever he was getting his mail or leaving for practice. It had been two weeks and he missed your smiles and small conversation whenever you saw each other in the elevator or when the two of you walked from the garage to your apartment.

He felt clingy. Clingy towards someone that wasn’t even his. 

Quinn unlocked his door and hearing your door open he stopped. You didn’t even make eye contact as you quickly headed to the elevator, dismissing his confused look as he watched you walk away from him.

He couldn’t even get a word out, a frown overtaking his face.

What happened?

Quinn must have done something wrong. That’s was the probable conclusion he came up with. He spent a few hours thinking of what he could have done. 

Did he forget to return some of your containers? Definitely no. Did he forget a dinner plan that the two of you had? No, he would have put it in his calendar. Was his music too loud one night? Again, no. 

What was wrong?

He couldn’t figure it out. But he knew that you were definitely avoiding him. So, he came up with a solution. He grabbed his phone shooting a text to his agent who immediately sent him two tickets for tonights game.

Grabbing an envelope, he scrawled something on it before putting the two printed tickets in and sliding the envelope under your door.

After your grocery run, you walked into your apartment and saw the envelope sitting on the floor.

Hey, haven’t seen you in a while. Hope to see you tonight.

Opening it with confusion, you saw two tickets to tonights Canucks game.

Now the real question is, would you go?

WC: 2.9K

[supertacodinosaurus]

oneshots

☞the introduction

i. dry humping

ii. fondling

iii. handjob

iv. fingering

v. phone sex

vi. [redacted]

vii. [redacted]

viii. [redacted]

ix. [redacted]

x. [redacted]

.

blurbs

n/a

.

[supertacodinosaurus]

Love letter | Quinn Hughes

summary — in which quinn is in love with y/n the social media worker for the canucks.

pairing — quinn hughes x reader

words — 2955

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You couldn't choose who you fell in love with.

It usually happened so quickly that you hardly noticed and couldn't do anything about it.

It was actually a nice feeling to be in love. You had the feeling that the world suddenly became carefree and you walked around with a good feeling.

You were happy to see the person again and to be near them, while the warmth shot up your cheeks and your stomach tingled.

That's exactly how Quinn felt at the moment. He was in love.

A few weeks ago, he had fallen in love with the young woman y/n, who worked in social media for the Canucks.

In a joint video, in which the young woman had asked him countless questions to create content for the Canucks fans, the two of them had had a lot of fun and occasionally got a little closer to each other, so that the odd physical contact was inevitable.

Since then, Quinn had been thinking about the young woman almost constantly.

His teammates Elias and Brock would often catch him looking over at the young woman during training, who would take photos or videos and then post them on social media channels.

This was the case again today. Practice was in full swing as Quinn gripped his racket tighter and scanned the ice ring for the woman who was turning his head.

It took him a few seconds to spot her. She was standing there with a young man Quinn had only glimpsed so far and seemed to be laughing happily about something.

Every now and then, the stranger would touch her, causing Quinn to unconsciously tighten his grip on his bat and his eyebrows to furrow slightly.

"Hey man, you're staring again." Elias came to stand next to Quinn on the ice, so Quinn saw Elias adjusting his helmet out of the corner of his eye.

Quinn knew he didn't need to give Elias an excuse, because his best friend knew about the young woman and Quinn's feelings.

A few days ago, Elias had caught Quinn staring and then confronted him, but Quinn had folded not long after and told Elias everything.

After all, there were no secrets between the two best friends.

"You should finally ask her out."

Now Elias stood in front of Quinn so that he could no longer look over at the woman who had taken a liking to him.

"Elias, I-I..." Quinn began to give his team colleague another excuse, as he had done the last few times.

But he raised his gloved hand to indicate Quinn should be quiet.

As Elias began to speak, he gave the captain a serious look.

"Quinn, you have a different excuse every time. I can see how smitten you are. But the longer you hesitate, the less chance you have. I hate to say it, but I guess that guy over there is trying to get to her himself."

With a nod, Elias gestured over to the young woman and the red-haired man, who had come a little closer to her and kept grabbing her by the arm.

From a distance, Quinn couldn't interpret the expression on the young woman's face, as she was standing with half her back to him.

"And how am I supposed to do that? Just run over and pull her away from the redhead?"

A nervous expression formed on Quinn's face. The thought of simply walking over to her and approaching her made him start to sweat.

He wasn't good at approaching women, so the thought of talking to the young woman made him want to flee.

"That's actually how you do it, yes. But I have another idea." A grin formed on Elias's face as he stepped a little closer to Quinn and then whispered something in his best friend's ear.

And this idea appealed to Quinn so much that he decided to put it into practice.

"Good morning" a smile came to your lips as you greeted your colleagues and then slipped inside.

"Good morning, y/n! Good to see you." One of your colleagues, Lucy, ran up to you beaming and then pulled you into a tight hug.

Ever since you'd taken the social media job with the Canucks, Lucy and you had become instant friends.

Since then, you've been more or less inseparable. Lucy also worked for the social media team.

She usually took over the press conferences or was there for the post-match interviews, while you took care of the social media channels and shot the occasional content video.

The brunette put her arm around you as you walked side by side through the building to the small office where you had made yourselves comfortable.

The office wasn't very big, so only two desks fitted in opposite each other and two small, cozy armchairs had found their place at the other end of the wall.

Despite their small size, you loved the office more than anything, even if you spent more time on the road than in the office.

"What's on your agenda today?" You checked in with your colleague and best friend as you opened your office door and slipped into the light blue room.

On the wall behind your desk was a huge Canucks logo painted on the wall, while on the other blue-painted walls were some pictures of the team that you had taken yourself.

"I've actually just got some paperwork today and need to make a few phone calls for upcoming interviews, you?" Lucy dropped into her desk chair while you carelessly threw your jacket onto one of the chairs and then walked over to your desk.

Before you could even begin to reply, a white envelope lying on your desk caught his attention.

It wasn't unusual for you to receive mail in the morning, but this letter was different to the mail you usually received.

You could feel that directly. Slowly, you walked over to your desk as you answered Lucy curtly.

You didn't want your colleague to get suspicious.

Your name was written on the letter in curved handwriting. There was no sender or indication of where it might have come from.

This led you to conclude that this was a personal letter.

Your curiosity grew as you began to examine the letter, but made no attempt to open it.

Who wrote you a letter?

You carefully picked up the letter. It was quite light and you could feel a note through the thin envelope.

"Who did you get mail from?" You suddenly heard Lucy's voice, who had more or less caught you in the act.

"Oh, just from a customer, nothing important," you babbled and opened a drawer in your desk to carefully put the letter inside.

Your curiosity wouldn't diminish over the next hour, but you wanted to read the letter in peace and quiet, so you had to wait until Lucy left the office and you could finally be undisturbed.

But you didn't know how agonizingly slow the time would be until then.

Four agonizingly long hours passed before Lucy finally made the effort to leave your shared office to have a conversation.

After the door had slammed shut behind Lucy, you jerked out the letter, which you carefully opened and pulled out the neatly folded paper with your heart beating faster.

With trembling fingers and increasing nervousness, you unfolded the paper before placing it on the desk in front of you and began to read.

Dear y/n,

I keep looking at you, but can't touch you.

You don't know, how much l want to. want to be near you, want you to look my way.

A moment alone with you, would be beautiful. A moment alone with you, would feel eternal.

You skimmed over the words again and again. Your heart kept leaping in your chest as you read them.

You had never received such words before. In the past, you had always found it very cheesy when your friends told you that they had received love letters or wrote them themselves.

But now that you had your first love letter in front of you, it warmed your heart.

It was really sweet to read these words that were addressed directly to you.

You didn't know who this letter was from, but you wished it was a special person.

This one particular player called Quinn Hughes.

The first time you had made a video with him for social media, you had immediately noticed how well you Both got on and you had even gotten a little closer to each other at times.

Since then, you've often thought about the captain and occasionally caught yourself looking over at him and staring at him for a few seconds, lost in thought.

But what if the letter wasn't from Quinn at all, but from Alex? Alex had been very close to you recently and you had caught him looking for physical contact again and again.

Alex was a really nice young man, but you just wasn't attracted to him.

The thought that the letter could be from Alex made your face contort slightly and you put the letter aside.

Your fingers reached for the envelope, which you began to shake and shortly afterwards a small Post it note in the shape of a heart fell out.

You had completely overlooked the post it so far, so you reached for the pink note with a pounding heart and turned it over to reveal the writing.

If you're brave enough to find out who I am, meet me in the parking lot at 7 tonight.

Once again, no signature under the message. There wasn't even a single letter that would have given you any idea who had written you this sweet letter.

Your heart was almost pounding against your chest as you glanced at the bottom of my computer screen to see what time it was.

By now it was 6:30pm and so you still had some time before you would meet the unknown love letter writer.

Nervously, you started to slide around a bit on the black office chair.

You were really curious to find out who was behind the sweet lines.

But even though the message was really sweet, you were afraid that it might just be a joke.

After all, the Canucks boys had the occasional challenge and banter amongst themselves.

But had you really become one of her victims? With the best will in the world you couldn't really imagine that, as everyone was incredibly nice to you and treated you as if you'd been part of the team for ages.

Of course, you never know what makes other people tick and even though you couldn't imagine for the life of you that this letter was just a joke, you decided to be careful.

But despite all this, you wanted to know who was behind the letter and so you decided to go to the place where it was said and find out who it was.

Your heart beat a little faster against your chest with excitement and nervousness.

You hadn't mentioned the letter to Lucy once, so you had to come up with an excuse to more or less get rid of Lucy at the end of the working day an hour ago, as she was desperate to have a drink with you.

The last hour that you had spent alone in your office had gone by rather agonizingly slowly, even though you had already prepared a post or two for the next few days on social media.

But now it was time to find out who had written you the letter.

With every step you took closer to the parking lot, your heart began to beat faster and faster, making you feel like it could jump out of your chest at any second.

You buried your hands, which had become sweaty again, deeper into your jacket pockets, where your right hand played with your bunch of keys.

You were incredibly nervous, so your hand needed something to do and you were a little more distracted.

When you arrived at the parking lot, your eyes wandered nervously back and forth.

In addition to your car, there were four other cars in the parking lot, but you couldn't identify their owners.

Since you didn't know exactly where to wait in the not-so-small parking lot, you positioned yourself a little more centrally in the large parking lot so that the unknown person could easily spot you.

A glance at your cell phone display showed that it was still five minutes until 7 pm.

You used the time to take a few more deep breaths and try to calm yourself down as best you could.

Luckily, it wasn't a dark time of year, so you didn't have to be afraid of the parking lot, which was usually only dimly lit by a few lanterns in winter.

Although the weather was pretty gloomy today and the clouds were increasing, it was bright enough that you had a good view of all the creepy corners and only had to run a few meters to your car if necessary.

Your eyes scanned your surroundings and every time footsteps came closer, you looked hopefully in the direction they were coming from.

But none of them paid any attention to you and shortly afterwards, all but one of the other cars pulled away.

So the last car, which was not too far away from yours, had to be the car of the man who had written you the letter.

A few more minutes passed, during which the nervousness began to creep up inside you again.

And then suddenly the time had come.

From a distance, you could recognize someone. The person was wearing a dark blue hoodie that clearly stood out.

His hood was pulled over his head and his gaze was slightly lowered, so you couldn't tell who it was yet.

On his shoulder was a sports bag, on which you could see the Canucks logo from a distance.

So it was a player, you thought, as the stranger came closer and closer to you and your nervousness grew so much that your heart began to pound in your chest again.

He seemed to be moving in slow motion and took forever to get to you, so you started moving without thinking twice and ran towards him.

When the two of you finally came face to face, the stranger slowly lifted his head and pulled the hood off his head, revealing thick brown hair.

And your heart literally skipped a beat as you struggled not to clasp your hands over your mouth.

Because standing in front of you was none other than Quinn Hughes.

The man you had gotten a little closer to some time ago.

The man you got on well with straight away.

The man who made you laugh.

The man you couldn't stop thinking about.

"Quinn..." His name left your mouth in an almost whisper.

The person opposite you nodded in response, a shy smile on his lips and he began to clutch the handle of his sports bag like a lifeline.

Suddenly he seemed so shy and embarrassed. Very different from your video shoot.

He cleared his throat. "Hello, y/n."

"The...the letter...it's from you?" To be on the safe side, you checked again. There was a little fear in your voice because you wanted the letter to be from him.

"Yes, I wrote the letter."

Embarrassed, Quinn looked at you and ran his free hand through his thick hair, brushing a few strands that had fallen into his eyes out of his face.

"Wow...I mean...those words really touched me" You babbled on, which made Quinn's cheeks turn a light shade of pink.

"Really?" he asked hopefully. He couldn't seem to believe that you were reacting so positively.

You began to nod eagerly.  "Yes, really!" 

Quinn began to almost beam and seemed to spend some time searching for the right words, which made you slightly nervous.

"I'm not really good at talking, that's why Elias gave me the idea of the letter. I thought you thought this was just a joke and you weren't even going to show up, but I'm really relieved you're here."

Now it was Quinn who was babbling nervously as his left hand moved to the back of his neck, where he began to scratch himself in embarrassment.

"Really? I thought it was a joke too, since the name wasn't signed. But I was too curious and wanted to see who was here."

A nervous laugh leaves your lips, causing Quinn to start laughing as well.

"Wow...that's really something."

Quinn smirked slightly before gathering all his courage and finally the sentences he would have loved to ask you already left his mouth.

"Y/n I know this might be risky because you work for the same team as me. I don't know exactly what the contracts and agreement are here, but I think you realize there's something between us too, don't you? Would you...would you go out with me?"

His eyes looked at you with an almost hopeful expression, while your heart stumbled again and you began to feel the warmth rush to your cheeks.

And it actually didn't take you long to give Quinn a suitable answer.

Because the answer has been on the tip of your tongue for a long time and you were finally able to say it out loud.

"I would love to go on a date with you, Quinn."

[supertacodinosaurus]

Seriously I don't want the drivers just give me the cars

[supertacodinosaurus]

Overlooked | Part One

Eris Vanserra x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: none.

Summary: Y/N, the eldest Archeron sister, and while the Inner Circle are invited to the Autumn Court by Eris, the new High Lord, Y/N and Eris meet for the first time and the bond snaps.

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Epilogue

•••

Y/N Archeron was always overlooked. Her whole life she would always be looked over in favour of her younger sisters. Of course when Y/N was human, she learnt to live with it. She did what she could to try and support her family, picking up as many jobs as she could. The only one who ever thanked her was Feyre. 

Once Y/N was made into fae and her entire life was flipped upside down, she felt more overlooked than she had in her whole life. Feyre had Rhys. Nesta had Cassian. Elain had Lucien and Azriel. Y/N had no one. Of course Mor took it upon herself to bring her along to Rita’s every time she went. Occasionally Y/N would go home with someone but in recent months, she preferred to be alone. 

Now as she sat alone in her apartment, there was a pain in her heart. The last few months, Y/N had been more lonely than ever. She had barely seen her sisters and the rest of the Inner Circle. Azriel was the only one she had seen and it was in passing, Y/N didn’t stick around for a full conversation. 

There was a knock at her door and Y/N sighed before dragging her feet to the front door and opened it up. Feyre was standing on the other side with a friendly smile on her face. Her hair was tied up and her hands were covered in dried paint. 

“Y/N, it’s good to see you,” Feyre said, wrapping her eldest sister in a hug. 

Despite the way she was feeling, Y/N smiled as she wrapped her arms around her youngest sister. It was the first hug she had received in a while. 

“What are you doing here? How’s Nyx?” Y/N asked. 

“He’s great,” Feyre said, lighting up at the mention of her son. “He misses you though.”

“I miss him too,” Y/N said. “I’ve been a bit busy lately, but I’ll visit everyone soon.”

“About that,” Feyre said as the two took a seat on Y/N’s couch. “We have been summoned to the Autumn Court. Eris has become the new High Lord and we need to build his trust. There is a ball and we must be in attendance.”

“Oh,” Y/N said, deflating the smallest amount. Her sister hadn’t come to see her to catch up.

“The whole Inner Circle is attending,” Feyre continued. 

“But I’m not a part of the Inner Circle,” Y/N replied. 

“Of course you are!” Feyre exclaimed. “You are family.”

It doesn’t feel like it, Y/N thought.

“When is this happening?” Y/N asked. 

“Two days time,” Feyre replied. 

Y/N only nodded and Feyre stood up from the couch. “I need to get back home, but I’ll come to collect you in two days.” 

Y/N didn’t bother to rise from the couch as Feyre hugged her and bid her goodbye as she exited her home. There was a pain in Y/N’s heart as she folded in on herself. All she wanted was her sisters and even they didn’t have the time for her anymore. 

***

Two days later, Y/N wore a gown that left little to the imagination. The slits in the skirt ended at her upper thigh and the plunging neckline and tight bodice accentuated her curves. Despite the way she was feeling, Y/N smiled at her reflection. 

When Feyre met with Y/N and was winnowed to the rest of the group, she remained on the outskirts. Everyone greeted her yet it felt as if they were only doing it out of common courtesy. Y/N never wanted to go back to her apartment more than ever. 

The Night Court was beautiful and Y/N would admit that. But the moment she got to the Autumn Court, she was taken by its beauty. The colours of the leaves and trees put her at ease. The slight breeze ruffled her hair as a smile tugged at her lips.

The feeling of being in the Autumn Court was different and Y/N wasn’t entirely sure if it was a good thing or not. She felt a small tug within her that drew her in. 

While everyone didn’t even stop to look around, Y/N lingered behind everyone looking around in wonder. Even when they entered the hall where the ball was taking place. Y/N gasped. 

The intricate architecture and the walls that seemed to shine took her breath away. The rest of the Inner Circle didn’t even react. Rhysand’s gaze was fixated on Eris standing at the very end of the room, lounging on his throne. 

When Y/N finally tore her gaze away from the high ceiling, her gaze finally landed on Eris. There was a slight tug within her that made her freeze. Eris’s gaze bore into hers as his eyebrows furrowed. His expression hardened just as quickly as he tore his gaze away from Y/N. 

“Rhysand,” Eris greeted, standing up from his throne. “Nice of you to finally grace us with your presence.”

Y/N didn’t listen to Rhysand’s response as her gaze was fixated on Eris. There was a small frown on her face. There was a tug within her that she didn’t fully understand but she wanted to know more. 

Before Y/N knew it, everyone was mingling as she stood on the outskirts of the room, sipping her wine. Many males had approached her to dance but Y/N simply denied them. She had stayed near her sisters at first but as they went off with their mates, and in Elain’s case, Azriel, Y/N remained on her own. 

Feyre had spoken to her briefly and Nesta and Elain had exchanged a couple of words but there was nothing more than that. There was never anything more than that. 

Y/N watched as everyone danced and truly looked happy. Happier than she had ever seen them. Y/N could tell that she didn’t fit anywhere within their happiness. With a sigh, Y/N placed her empty wine glass down and slipped out of the room. 

She didn’t stray too far, the music could still be heard and Y/N hummed along. The night sky was filled with stars and Y/N simply sat herself down on the grass. The Autumn Court was beautiful. 

Y/N’s relaxed body suddenly tensed as she heard footsteps behind her. 

“The eldest Archeron sister.”

Y/N looked in the direction of the voice and her eyes wide fed as she felt the tug in her chest pull even more as Eris stood beside her. 

“Yes?” Y/N said. 

A smirk was present on Eris’s face as he lowered himself down so sit beside her. She was surprised. The High Lord of Autumn just sat on the grass beside her willingly. From what everyone had spoken about Eris, Y/N didn’t expect him to do that. 

“I haven’t seen you before,” Eris said, his tone casual. 

“I haven’t had a reason to make myself known,” Y/N responded. “I try not to be a part of anyone’s business.”

“But you were Made,” said Eris, leaning back on his elbows. “That makes you everyone’s business.” 

Y/N scoffed. “I never wanted to be Made. I was content with my life.”

Eris hummed.

Y/N glanced back at him, meeting his gaze. The tug happened again and Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed. 

“I was content with my life when I still felt like I had a family,” Y/N wasn’t entirely sure why she had told Eris that but she felt relieved that it was off her chest. 

Eris frowned. “You have three sisters.”

Y/N laughed humorously. “Three sisters who are happy with their relationships and families that they never spare a look my way. Ever since I was Made and have been trapped within the Night Court, I have felt my own sisters distancing themselves from me. I know it isn’t intentional. They have their own lives and I have mine. They each have their someone. They have someone to look after and someone to look after them. I am completely alone.”

There was nothing stopping the words spilling out of her mouth and she didn’t want to stop them. The weight on her chest was seemingly lifting with every word she spoke. However once Y/N realised who she was speaking to, her words ceased. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sure you don’t want to hear about how sad my life is,” Y/N said, wiping away a tear she didn’t know had escaped. 

“You feel trapped in the Night Court?” Eris questioned. 

“Trapped was the wrong word I think,” Y/N said. “I was welcomed at first but Rhys never allowed me to leave on my own in the first few months. I had to either stay indoors or have an escort everyday I went. It was suffocating. Even now, I am still told to stay within Velaris.”

“It has been years,” Eris said. “Why don’t you leave?” 

Y/N shrugged. “I am not sure where I would go. It’s not like I know anyone else and I wouldn’t be welcome back to my old life. So I guess I am trapped.”

Eris didn’t respond as he got to his feet, brushing himself off. He held out his hand to Y/N. 

“Come and dance with me,” Eris said. 

For some reason, Y/N felt herself reaching up to touch his hand. As soon as her fingers brushed his, Eris closed his hand around hers and pulled her to her feet. 

Y/N’s heart raced as they stood chest to chest. That pull in her chest became tight. 

Eris’s eyes glanced down at her, his eyes fighting to remain on her eyes. He failed as he looked down at her body and the dress that clung to it. The colour perfectly matching his jacket. 

“Why are you being nice to me?” Y/N questioned, her voice a whisper. 

Eris’s eyes locked with hers again, as Isal could easily get lost in them. “What have they told you about me?”

“That you are rude, manipulative, dangerous,” Y/N answered. “They mentioned that you proposed to my sister after only one dance.”

“And do you know the reason for that,” Eris whispered, stepping closer to Y/N. 

The eldest Archeron shook her head, her heart hammering against her chest as the close proximity. 

“My father,” Eris spat, “was forcing my hand in marriage, he didn’t care who it was. I fought against it but once he…” Eris trailed off and sighed, though Y/N didn’t miss the flash of pain in his eyes. “It doesn’t matter what he did, but I knew that it would continue if I didn’t marry.”

“So you proposed to my sister,” Y/N concluded.

“I’ll be honest and say that it was a spur of the moment decision and I knew that it would piss off your High Lord and his lapdogs.”

“He isn’t my High Lord,” Y/N responded. 

“Oh? Then who is?” Eris’s voice was low and rumbled in his chest. Y/N's hands moved on their own accord to rest firmly against his firm chest. Not to push him away but to feel him. 

“No one,” Y/N said. “I am not controlled by anyone.”

Eris smirked. “Good. That’s what I wanted to hear.”

Before Y/N could muster up a response, Eris had laced his fingers with hers and pulled her toward the ballroom. It was still lively and everyone still danced with their partners. However as Eris entered the room, all attention seemed to divert towards him, and then to Y/N, who didn’t shrink away from the stares. 

Eris brought her to the centre of the ballroom. His gaze focussed on her. Y/N swallowed, suddenly nervous. Even though many others had returned to dancing, Y/N could still feel the stares of those of the Night Court. From the corner of her eye, she could see Rhysand’s face twist into one of anger. Y/N couldn’t find it within herself to care. 

“Don’t focus on them, just focus on me,” Eris muttered as he wrapped an arm around her to pull her body flush with his and they began to dance to the music. 

At first Y/N couldn’t focus on anything but the stares of her sisters and their mates, but as soon as she felt Eris lightly squeeze her hand, she shifted focus to him. They danced around the ballroom with ease and Y/N found herself smiling. Y/N was surprised that the smirk Eris had was changed. Now a genuine smile graced his handsome face. It suited him.

“You are quite beautiful, Y/N Archeron,probably the most beautiful female I have ever encountered,” Eris muttered.

Y/N flushed and tried to ignore her pounding heart.

“Why are you being nice to me?” Y/N asked as he spun her around. “You never answered my question.”

As she was spun back into his chest, Eris held onto her tightly. “You feel it too, don’t you? That tug. That pull that began as soon as you set eyes on me.”

Y/N didn’t respond but the answer was in her eyes. 

“I feel it too,” Eris whispered into her ear. “And do you know what it is?”

Y/N had a feeling she knew what it was but she didn’t want to say it, in fear of being wrong and in fear of what would happen after. 

“A mating bond,” Eris whispered, his lips brushing against her ear and Y/N’s body was immediately covered in goosebumps. 

Y/N pulled away and looked into Eris’s eyes. There was something in the back of her mind telling her that he was lying and it was all some big joke. But the moment she looked into his eyes, she saw nothing but sincerity. 

Eris pressed his forehead against Y/N’s and she felt that cord within her tighten more until it snapped into place. There was no more feeling of the pushing and pulling. Her body seemed to get warmer and she gasped. 

“You are my mate,” Y/N said in disbelief. 

Eris smiled. “And you are mine.”

From across the ballroom, Rhysand stood with the rest of the Inner Circle, his arms folded across his chest as he glared at Eris. The High Lord of Autumn, listed his gaze from Y/N for the first time since they had begun to dance and locked it onto Rhysand. 

“I think your brother in law wants to talk,” Eris commented. 

Y/N ripped her attention away from Eris and turned it to her family standing the opposite side of the ballroom. Feyre’s eyes held a sense of pleading for her to get away from Eris. Nesta and Elain stood by her side, unreadable expressions on both of their faces. 

“Why should I care what they have to say? It’s not like they have taken any care in what I have to say.” Y/N answered. 

“I would love to return to dancing with you and let Rhysand do his own thing, whether that be leaving or brooding,” Eris said, his hand gripping her waist. “But I need to keep up appearances tonight.”

Eris led Y/N out of the ballroom and into the hallway, the rest of the Inner Circle following behind them. 

“What are you doing with him, Y/N?” Rhysand said as soon as the door was closed. 

“Dancing,” Y/N responded bluntly, folding her arms across her chest.

“Y/N, just come with us,” Feyre pleaded to her older sister. 

“Why?” Y/N exclaimed. “It’s not as if any of you even notice I’m there half of the time.”

“That’s not true,” Feyre said.

“Yes it is,” Y/N said, letting it all out. “When Tamlin gave us the money and Nesta, Elain and I lived in that house, the two of you barely ever spoke to me. After Elain and Nesta were thrown into the cauldron, no one even batted an eye once I was thrown in. None of you even cared even though I was screaming for someone to save me.”

“Of course we care, Y/N,” Nesta spoke up.

“You all have a funny way of showing it,” Y/N answered. “When everything was over I thought that I could have my sisters back, I thought that we could finally be a family after everything. But I was wrong, you all had someone who you valued over me. At first it didn;t bother me. I know that once you all had your mates, I wouldn’t be at the top of your priority list but I seemed to be right at the bottom.”

Tears fell from Y/N’s eyes no matter how hard she tried to stop them. “None of you told me that Feyre could have died from childbirth.”

The Inner Circle were silent. 

“When Feyre stopped by a few days ago, I was happy. I thought that you had come to talk to me and catch up but the only thing you did was tell me about this ball where my presence wouldn’t even be missed if I hadn’t attended.”

“Y/N, we are sorry you feel this way but do you realise who you are dancing with–”

Y/N cut Rhysand off with a scoff. “I just poured my heart out to all of you and that is all you have to say. Did any of you even notice me leave earlier? I think not. Eris followed me and was the one to ask if I was okay. He was the one who actually listened and took notice of me.”

“Y/N, we can talk about this back home,” Feyre said.

“Home? Velaris has never been my home,” Y/N said. “All of you made sure of that when you forgot I existed.”

“We didn’t forget about you, Y/N,” Elain piped up. “We love you.”

Y/N shook her head and hardly wiped the tears away. “If you loved me, you would act like it. You would check in on me from time to time. You would invite me to your family dinners that I never get an invite to. You would act like my sisters and not strangers. None of you were there when I needed you most.”

A tear slipped down Feyre’s cheek as she looked at her sister. “I am so sorry, Y/N. Please forgive us. Come home, we can make this right.”

Y/N shook her head. “I am staying here.”

Everyone looked surprised, even Eris, whose arm hadn’t left Y/N’s waist. 

“You are not staying here, Y/N,” Rhysand said. “As your High Lord–”

“You are going to command me to come back with you?” Y/N said. “Really, Rhysand, after all of that?”

“If I may interject,” Eris spoke up as Rhysand shot him daggers. “If Y/N does not want to return to you, I will have a room set up for her here and she will be looked after until she wishes to return.”

“She is not staying–”

“I am!” Y/N exclaimed. “I am staying here because Eris has been the only one to not make me feel invisible and useless.”

“Y/N, please,” Feyre said, her final attempt to try and convince Y/N.

Y/N shook her head. “I would prefer to stay here, at least until I am ready to see you all again.”

“How long will that be?” Elain asked. 

“I don’t know,” Y/N responded and Eris gently squeezed her waist in reassurance. 

Feyre nodded. “If that is what you wish, Y/N.”

“It is,” Y/N said. “Now please, leave me alone.”

Y/N turned on her heel and walked down the hallway until she was out of sight. 

Once she was around the corner, Y/N finally let out a sob, the weight was gone from her chest but at a cost. Her sisters probably hated her now. But she couldn’t stay in the Night Court, she didn’t belong there. It wasn’t her home and would never be her home. 

“Are you okay?” Eris asked, appearing behind her. 

Y/N tried to quiet her sobs but failed. 

Eris was by her side in an instant with his arms wrapped around her, chin resting on top of her head. Y/N immediately felt safe and secure in his arms. She wrapped her arms around him and held onto him tightly. The bond connecting the two filled Y/N with an emotion she couldn’t place. 

“They left,” Eris muttered. “They won’t bother you anymore.”

“Is it true?” Y/N said, pulling away from him to gaze up at him, her eyes bloodshot. “Can I really stay here?”

“For as long as you like,” Eris replied, brushing her tears away. 

“And what of the bond?” Y/N asked.

“That can be your decision,” Eris said. “If you choose to accept it or not, you will have a place at the Autumn Court.”

Y/N nodded. “Thank you, I have only just met you but you have been so kind to me.”

Eris smiled. “You need not thank me for that. You deserve kindness.”

Y/N rested her hand over his heart. “As do you, Eris.”

Eris pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I can show you to your room if you wish.”

“But what about the party?” Y/N questioned.

“Who cares?” Eris said. “My priority is to make sure that you are okay and looked after if you are staying here. I am not going to let my mate in just any room here, I will make sure you have the most luxurious one, right after mine, of course.”

Y/N laughed for what felt like the first time in a while. Eris smiled at the sound.

“Thank you, Eris,” Y/N said. “You have no idea what this means to me.”

Eris laced their fingers together and squeezed her hand and led her down the hallway. Y/N squeezed his hand back and happily walked alongside him. No longer would she be overlooked, not when she had Eris by her side.

[supertacodinosaurus]

Dream Girl Evil - Eris Vanserra x Archeron!Reader

warnings: language, dumbshits who don't know their own feelings A/N: loosely based off florence and the machine's song dream girl evil i really hope y'all like it. this will be part one mini series. hopefully will get the resolution of this posted soon :)

Part One - Part Two - Part Three (Upcoming)

---

Nesta watched her twin on the balcony of the House of Wind with a curious gaze. There was something about how you held yourself tonight that made Nesta think there was something wrong with you. You usually loved being the life of the party, much to Nesta and your other two sisters’ dismay, and drew people towards you like a beacon on a foggy night. But lately, the shine your presence usually brought to parties had dimmed to be barely distinguishable from the faelight in the room. 

You absentmindedly picked at your nails while leaning against the railing of the balcony, wistfully contemplating your existence, Nesta guessed. You were deep like that. Always contemplating the ramifications of actions, whether they be your own or the ones of others. Nesta was about to step towards you when Cassian wrapped an arm around her waist to pull her into the conversation he was having with whomever it was. She glanced back at you before moving her attention to the man talking to her mate. 

And you felt it. Thank the Cauldron for that little gift, you mused to yourself sardonically. While Rhys and Feyre may be able to read the thoughts of everyone in the room dumb enough to not put up mental shields, you were able to feel the intentions of people. You could feel gazes on you, not because you were paranoid, but because your powers picked up on their intention to try and figure you out. You could feel Nesta physically pull her attention away from you and direct it to someone else. You wondered what was worse – hearing every thought in the room, or knowing people’s intentions without any context. 

Almost as soon as Nesta’s attention moved from you, you felt another gaze slink from the bottom of your spine to your neck and draw closer to you. You could almost hear the smirk that followed those polished footsteps. 

“All alone, princess?” Eris asked condescendingly. You barely looked over your left shoulder to see him from the corner of your eye take the place next to you. 

“By design, asshole,” you quipped back. Eris chuckled at your response. You had known him, for what? 20 years now? Mother, how long had it been since the war with Hybern? However long it has been, you don’t think you’ve ever called him by his first name. You usually spit his last name at him when he deigned to show his face in Velaris. And if it wasn’t his last name, it was usually a sarcastic “High Lord” following the timely death of his father, Beron, or some other mockery. 

“Asshole? Ouch, you wound me, princess,” Eris said, putting a hand to his chest. 

“Good, that was the goal,” you smirked at him. Eris leaned his arms against the balcony in the same manner you did and took a half step closer to you. 

“Are you going to ignore me all night?” he whispered. 

“Well, did you miss me?” 

“What do you think?”

“I don’t know what to think. It feels like you came all this way just to kiss me two nights ago and then discard me into the Sidra today. Normally, Rhys has to pull the two of us away from killing each other, but this time ‘round, you could barely stay within three feet of me before running in the opposite direction.” 

“Princess,” Eris says, almost exasperatedly. “You have to understand, these trips to the Night Court, to Velaris, as much as I would love for them to be just to visit you, they are work trips. I am here to negotiate with Rhys and Feyre. Every. Single. Time,” he grits out. You chuckle more to yourself than anything and look away from him. 

“Go ahead, Eris. Just do it,” you spit. The first time you say his name and it’s like this? He almost takes a step back in surprise. 

“Princess?”

“Don’t call me that,’ you breathed. “Just deliver the bad news, Eris. You talk about me being the only one to warm your bed, yet I hear the rumors all the way from the Autumn Court of your exploits. The first time you come here after the news breaks you are looking for a suitable bride, you can barely acknowledge my presence. You call me your ‘Dream Girl’ in private, yet the second you see me in public, you can barely contain your demeaning comments about the ‘Wicked’ Archeron sister. What was it last week that made me so foul to your ilk? I think it was my lack of smiling, hmm?,” you turn your whole body towards him. “So what am I, Eris? Your Dream Girl, or Evil? Cause I can’t be both.” 

“That’s not fair and you know it,” he grits. You scoff and turn so that you’re facing the party and lean against the balcony. Eris is still positioned facing the city and only half his face to those looking at you from inside the festivities. The one thing you hated, and loved, most about the gifts the Cauldron gave you, was not only could you feel the intentions of others, but you could pull their attention to you as well. You wanted Nesta or Feyre or anyone to look at you and give you a reason to leave your conversation with Eris. And thank the Mother that Nesta glanced at you, pulled by your invisible beacon, and gave you a questioning look that could be taken as her asking you to join her circle. You breathed in relief before turning back to Eris. 

“If you would excuse me, High Lord,” you curtsied to him and Eris rolled his eyes. “My sister beckons.”

Eris reached out and grabbed your arm pulling you back towards him, “Do you seriously want to do this?” 

“Do what, High Lord? I am nothing but the Wicked Archeron Sister, going to take her place as the Court’s outcast. Since no one will speak to me unless I am accompanied by other members of the Inner Circle, I might as well join conversations I am invited to by my sisters rather than sit here and be insulted by your attention.” You ripped your arm from his grip and made your way to Nesta. She couldn’t help but throw a look at Eris after watching the whole exchange happen. Eris couldn’t meet Lady Death’s eyes though, afraid of what might happen after so publicly insulting her sister. 

“Are you alright?” Nesta asked at your approach. 

“Yes, my darling,” you smiled and cupped her cheek. The Silver Flames that burned in Nesta’s eyes saw your lies and the tears that threatened to spill. “Only frustrated that we have to continue to entertain his kind during these events.”

“His kind?” Nesta questioned. 

“Yes, the despicable kind.” You knew that Eris could hear you. Your mate could hear you call him despicable. But it was the only thing that lessened the hurt you felt from being rejected by your mate so many times since the bond had snapped for you. 

— 

You felt the bond snap on a cold Autumn day. The Inner Circle had decided to make the trip to Lucien’s birth court for the Autumn Equinox. It was after dinner and dancing had started in the main ballroom. It had been maybe a year since Eris had taken over after his father’s death. And while no major improvements could be boasted, the Autumn Court members seemed less sad, or angry, or fearful maybe, than they had during Beron’s reign. 

The bond snapped the second your eyes met his during the presentation of the Night Court at the beginning of the ball. The Inner Circle was nothing if not methodical in how they presented themselves. First Lucien, Azriel, and Cassian, then Mor and Amren, next the High Lady’s three sisters, all before Rhys and Feyre made their entrance ensconced in shadows, like Night Triumphant. Nesta was in the middle of your little trio, the most powerful of the three of you, and the oldest, placed strategically to encapsulate her rank above you and Elain. And gladly, you let her steal the spotlight. While Elain may be quiet due to her natural shyness and overall demeanor, you were quiet because you had absolutely no patience for the games of the High Fae. 

It was why people started calling you the “Wicked Archeron Sister.” You had no sympathy for their so-called problems and let them know your opinions. Your temper regarding court politics made you an amazing asset to the Court of Dreamers in their ongoing negotiating with the Court of Nightmares. You didn’t pull your punches, both physical and verbal. Much to the chagrin of those envious of Rhys’ circle.

So when your eyes met the High Lord of Autumn, your wicked heart stuttered at the sudden emotion it felt for a member of a court you had no allegiance to, and you gasped loud enough that Nesta had to grasp your hand to keep you balanced. The golden thread tying you to him, pulling taut. You were so flustered in the moment, you missed the tilt of Eris’ head at your slight outburst. Quickly, you had steeled yourself to be the perfect pillar of good manners that you were trained to be by your mother. You then moved to the edge of the room as Rhys and Feyre made their immaculate entrance.

“Something amiss?” Nesta asked as she sidled up to you. You rolled your eyes at her smirk. “Could it be the copper haired hunk sitting on the throne by chance?”

“Ha ha, Nes. Nothing… is wrong,” you mumbled. Nesta turned toward you fully and blocked the rest of the room from you. 

“Darling, I know you. You don’t gasp unless startled by something way beyond your control. So what was it, dear sister?” You glanced away for a moment, before you looked back at the person who was your truest mirror in life, with tears in your eyes. 

“Nes, he’s…” you started. 

“Sh, sh, shh. Not here. Don’t let them see you cry,” Nesta put a hand to your cheek and you sucked in a breath before choking back your tears. 

“Alright. Later then,” you smiled at her. You squeezed her arm before making your way out of the ballroom to collect yourself, all the while, your mate watching your every move. 

— 

It was a few months later when he came to Velaris for the first time as High Lord that your flirtation and eventual “frenemies-with-benefits” (as Mor called it) started. Snarky comment here, long night at Rita’s there, and you and Eris found yourselves in and out of each other’s bed more often than you would like to admit. 

The first one to catch the two of you was Azriel about a month after you started seeing one another. Eris was leaving your room in the River House as Azriel was walking back to his with a cup of coffee to his lips. The two stared at each other in utter surprise before Az smirked and kept walking down the hall. 

After that, Eris insisted you join him at Forest House or that you get your own apartment in Velaris. As the latter would cause too much of a stir, and your winnowing was stronger than most, you joined him at Forest House most of the time. So for the next almost 20 years of your life, you had as close to a secret relationship with Eris Vanserra as you could. People in your life of course found out, either because you didn’t winnow back to River House early enough and they could scent him on you or because they saw your longing looks during parties and put two and two together. And not once during this time, did you ever guess that the bond had snapped for him.

Recently, however, you have been keeping your distance from him. One too many rumors had found you about women who said they had recently been with Eris when he had promised you that you were the only one he had been with. And then even more horrible rumors had started that he was in want of a high born, well bred wife.

And you had hit your limit. You could deal with him making excuses about why you were wandering around corridors in the Forest House. You could deal with the secrets you kept from your family and the half ass excuses you gave them. And while it hurt, you could deal with his dismissive personality in public, when he pretended not to know you or barely looked your way. 

You could not, however, deal with your mate putting out a “Wife Wanted” ad, meant for every high born lady but yourself. 

So you ignored him the best you could when he came to visit. But unfortunately Starfall, in conjunction with your sister’s birthday, was too big of a celebration for you to graciously bow out of. You played your part of the dutiful, if not Wicked, sister to the most powerful High Lady.

And Eris watched you from his side of the room. He watched your sad eyes and watched your languid movements. He listened to the desperate whispers of courtiers who spoke ill of you for no other reason than because you were more powerful and well connected than they. And it killed him inside. It made him want to rip their throats out. 

He had proposed to his advisors that you might be a suitable match in order to gain favor from the Night Court. They had turned down you as an option due to your reputation. No one would ever bow to you with that heartless thing on your arm, Eris, they had said. And while he adamantly disagreed, he didn't say anything to persuade them otherwise. His position was too new, and he was too afraid to do the wrong thing. So he watched you with your sister from the outskirts of the room. 

—

The next day, you sat at the kitchen table in the House of Wind, overlooking the Velaris skyline. A cup of coffee nestled in your hands, you sighed and once more contemplated your existence. You could feel gazes on you, but that wasn’t new. It was expected actually. Eyes always seemed to follow you everywhere you went. But this time the gaze seemed more wanting and expectant than the usual looks of your family. 

“What do you want, High Lord?”

“For you to look at me,” Eris said, pushing off of the door frame he was leaning against. He started making his way towards you, you immediately curled up, knees drawing closer to your chest and arms wrapping around yourself. 

“Why would I gaze upon anyone who couldn’t care less about my existence?” Eris rolled his eyes as he sat down across from you. 

“Since when have I given you the impression that I don’t care about your existence?”

“When have you ever given me the impression that you do care?” you lock eyes with him as you make the statement. Eris’ eyes burn at you, almost as if you could see the flames behind them at that statement. 

“Why the attitude, darling? I came here for a celebration and all I have been met with is your cold shoulder.”

“Sorry, I thought you were here on business, and I wouldn’t want to step on the toes of your future fiancée,” you mumble and take another sip of your coffee. 

“What fiancée, Y/N? You keep throwing out the idea of an engagement as if I am already betrothed. I haven’t so much as touched another woman in years,” Eris barked at you. You could feel his agitation and his desperation to have you understand him. You laughed. 

“Eris, it’s all that anyone has been able to talk about for the past few months. You are the most eligible bachelor in all of Prythian and you didn’t think your want of a wife would make it back to me?” you cried. Tears, as hard as you tried to keep them back, formed in your eyes. “I have watched for the past however many years as you flirt and whoo everyone with legs. And I am tired of pretending like I mean something to you, when it is very clear I do not, Eris. So please, leave me be and go back to your little court of games. I don’t wish to be a part of them any longer.”

“Y/N, please, our situation hasn’t changed so drastically since the last time we saw each other. I just don’t understand how you are all of a sudden so upset with me?”

“All of a sudden? Eris, you are my mate, how could I be anything other than upset!” you shouted at him. Eris looked taken aback at your comment. Cauldron, he really hadn’t known, had he? You don’t know if that gives you solace or pains you more. On the one hand he really didn’t know, so how could you blame him? On the other hand, were you really so insignificant to him that the bond couldn’t snap for him? You closed your eyes. "Fuck," you whispered to yourself.

Eris stood from where he was seated across for you. “Mate?” 

“Eris, I’m sorry, I didn’t want to pressure you-” 

“How long?”

“Eris -”

“How long have you known?” Eris paced behind the island in the kitchen looking more stressed than you have ever seen him.

“The bond snapped the first Equinox after you took the throne.”

“You have known for the past eighteen years that we have been mates? And you have said nothing?” He slammed his hands on the counter, making you flinch. 

“It wouldn’t have changed anything. I would still be the awkward Archeron sister that doesn’t fit in this Court, and you would still be High Lord,” you state, eyes downcast on the coffee in your lap. 

“It changes everything,” he shouts.

“Everything alright here?” Azriel says as he makes his way into the kitchen followed by Cassian and Nesta, presumably after their early morning training session. Nesta is filled with concern seeing you alone with Eris and it hits you like a wave. 

“Just peachy,” you state. Eris rolls his eyes. 

“Not peachy. How long have you all known that we are mates?”