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lovesosweeet · 5 months

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better left unsaid // cth

chapter twenty two

in which orion has leukemia, and calum doesn’t know.

calum hood x fem!oc

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TW: mentions of disordered eating, weight loss, body image descriptions

october 1, 2018 san diego, california calum

I could barely sleep last night with the excitement of reuniting with Orion at the front of my mind. I get to hold her, touch her, kiss her, be with her… today. It’s finally here. The day that we’ve been pining for is finally here.

I wake up early so I can be ready when she gets here. We slept on the bus last night after we drove out here from Denver. It’s quiet when I wake up, unsurprisingly. I grab my duffel bag of clothes and toiletries and head into the venue to take a shower. There’s no show today, but we’re camped out here for now. I’m supposed to stay at Orion’s family’s house tonight, but the rest of the band and crew are at a hotel.

As I get to the door into the venue, Gus is already here. I swear, the man is always working. His shifts are 12 hours at a time. He’s tired as he greets me, but still cheery.

“Orion comes today, right?” He asks me with a knowing smile. He knows the answer. The question is practically rhetorical.

I smile back at him without a second thought. Of course I’m smiling — I get to see my girl today. “Yep, she’s gonna be here around 10!”

Gus nods and opens the door for me. “Only three and a half hours to go, then.”

We leave the conversation there and I enter the building, looking around for signage to direct me to the dressing room. I find it and head that way. It’s nice to be in the venue this early. No one else is awake, aside from a handful of stray security guys and a janitor that’s mopping the floor.

I take what Orion would call an everything shower. It consists of scrubbing my entire body with a container of sugar scrub I stole from her abundant stash, slathering my body in some body wash from LUSH that she got me hooked on, shaving everything, shampoo, conditioner, exfoliating my face… everything. I want to look, feel, and smell my best for her, even though I know she wouldn’t care if I smelled like cat piss and looked like a complete mess.

When I get out of the shower, I text her, since it’s roughly when she will wake up anyway.

To: my love + stars gooooood morning!!!!! ☀️ today is the DAY!!!! drive safe and let me know when you hit the road. can’t wait to see you my love.

Back on the bus, I try to get my bunk in order. I make the bed as well as I can and organize my stuff so it doesn’t look quite as chaotic.

“Cal? What time is it?” Ashton’s voice sounds from the bunk above mine.

“It’s a little after seven,” I answer, trying to whisper.

“Why are you up this early?” He whispers back.

“We’re in San Diego, dude.”

Ashton opens the curtain to his bunk then so he can look at me. “Shit, didn’t even realize. You excited?” He smiles, already knowing my answer. Another practically rhetorical question.

“Can’t fucking wait.”

—

I spend my morning with Ashton inside the venue, just aimlessly scrolling on my phone while he reads a book. We’ve both downed a cup or two of coffee and eaten a few of the snacks we have backstage. It’s just bananas and granola bars currently, which is fine by me. I’m not really hungry. The excitement is all consuming.

My phone is already unlocked, watching Orion’s blinking blue dot on the Find My Friends app get closer and closer to mine. She stopped at her family’s house on her way here to drop off Duke so we can spend the day together. As her dot gets onto the premises of the venue, she starts calling. I answer instantly.

“Hi,” I answer. Ashton looks over at me then and he starts to smile. I’m sure he’s missed her too.

“Hi, I’m pulling in now. Matt told them I’m coming, right?”

“Of course. You’re his favorite, remember?”

She giggles. “Okay, sure. I’ll see you in a minute.”

“Can’t wait.” And then I hang up.

I get off the couch, brushing crumbs from my granola bar off my lap. I turn to Ash.

“Gonna go meet her. We’ll be back in a minute.”

He nods, looking back down to his book.

I walk around the maze of the backstage area, following signs to the exit. More crew are walking around now, all nodding to me politely as we pass each other. I open the back door to the buses and am greeted by the bright sunshine and Gus’ replacement.

I look around, trying to spot Orion’s silver sedan. I spot it parked behind the buses, but don’t see her.

Then, there she is, walking toward me with a glowing smile on her face, wearing a baggy green hoodie, presumably some shorts that I can't see, and a beat-up pair of New Balances. I take a few jogging steps toward her, but she's running, so we meet after just a few seconds.

I wrap her into my arms as quickly as I can from the moment I see her, but the second she’s there, pressed into my chest, I can’t help but notice she’s… different. Orion has always been tiny. She’s 5 feet tall and has always been pretty thin, but she had some slight curves still. Now, she’s bony and frail. Normally, I don’t like to comment on her appearance unless it’s telling her how absolutely gorgeous she is, except this time. I can’t help it. All I can think is that she’s smaller. I want to comment about it, and I try to hold it in, but I don’t trust myself to be able to do so.

“Hi,” I breathe, my face buried in her hair. I didn’t even remember to take in how short it is now. Her frail frame is the only thing on my mind.

“Hi,” she says back. She’s squeezing me back as hard as she can. Her arms are bonier than normal, somewhat masked by the oversized hoodie, but they’re there.

My hands slide up the sides of the hoodie she's wearing — technically mine — to grip her waist and I can instantly tell just how differently her body is shaped now. She feels fragile, far smaller than she was before. It's so obvious. Has the time apart really been this hard on her? I know it's been bad, but not unhealthily losing 20 pounds bad. Have I just not paid enough attention on our Facetimes? Am I that oblivious?

What happened?

Before I know it, the question falls out. “Did you lose weight?” I can't help it. The words tumble from my mouth and my hands scan her rib cage, feeling how much the bones protrude from her skin. She feels like just skin and bones, but she was trying to hide it under my baggy sweatshirt. Orion steps back so she can look at me.

Now, I notice her face and that her cheekbones jutting out sharper than before. Her cheeks are hollow, her eyes sunken in. She looks sick.

Has she been struggling so badly this whole time? Why wouldn't she tell me? Did I not look at her at all while I’ve been gone? I’ve seen her face, but I don’t know how I could have missed that it looks like this. My heart aches at the thought of her being too sad to eat, too depressed to move. Things have to have been hard on her if this is how she is now. It’s all my fault.

"Just a little," she mutters. Now she can't even look me in the eye. She's suddenly trying not to cry.

My hands can encircle her waist, completely. She's so much smaller than she was before and there's no way it's healthy for her to be so thin. "Orion, it doesn't feel like 'just a little.'"

Her eyes finally meet mine, holding so much more emotion than I can swim through. What're normally almost orange irises are dark and muddy. "It's fine, okay?"

Her voice is so meek and sad that it pains me to hear. I don't want to press it. We don't need to have a full conversation about her possible disordered eating or stress-starving herself outside of a venue in San Diego. But I can't just drop the fact that she feels like she's down to just her skeleton and organs.

Orion's eyes search mine like she's trying to find the right thing for her to say in the depths of my eyes. I didn't mean to make her cry. I just can't believe that she is so much less of herself than she was two months ago, and I feel like it's my fault for leaving. How can this have happened? Does she need help? I try to put a pin in all the questions I have, but they cloud my thoughts and it's hard to think about anything else. I want to be excited that we’re finally together again, but excited is nowhere near the top of the list of the emotions I’m feeling right now.

"Orion's here!"

"Oh my god, O!"

"Ah! Orion! Cal, why didn't you tell us she was here?!"

"We've missed you so much!"

Suddenly there's a mini stampede of my bandmates, their partners, and some of our crew, all encircling us. It's a mess of limbs and excitement, and I'm pushed back from my girlfriend unwillingly. Everyone else now gets to feel just how frail she is.

Orion is grinning now, a fake smile plastered on her face while giving everyone hugs back and saying how happy she is to see them. Before I know it, Luke is picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder, carrying her inside. Everyone else follows. Orion giggles and tries to answer questions that everyone throws at her. They all are gone shortly, and I don't even realize that Ashton is still standing with me outside until he speaks.

"Alright, mate?" He asks, patting my back between my shoulders. When I lock eyes with him, he's sympathetic, as if he can tell something is wrong.

I don't know what's going on with Orion yet, so I don't want to start talking about it with Ashton. If it's an eating disorder, that's not something I can just share with him without her consent. As much as I want to describe what I just saw in my girlfriend and felt on her body, I can't tell him.

I clear my throat and plaster on a smile. "Yeah, just still in shock that she's here, I guess."

Ashton nods. “C’mon, let’s go save her.”

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a/n: !!!!!!!!!!!! hi hope you liked this one!!!! drama is coming :) two cal pov's in a row who am i!!

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cass1opi4 · 13 days

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my forever - calum hood. (kinda angst, kinda fluff)

a calum hood x reader

she/her pronouns, reader is michael’s sister.

he traced shapes into her back, his cold, coarse fingertips leaving goosebumps down her spine. something he’d always enjoyed, giving the girl goosebumps, seeing the little bumps appear reminded him what power he had over her.

“calum?” she whispered, so quiet that the kiwi boy wouldn’t have heard if it wasn’t for the near silence in his hotel room, the TV playing american psycho being the only other noise source.

he took a small breath, not knowing the topic of conversation before it started was something he always hated.

he liked interviews. interviews were planned, almost scripted, he knew the upcoming questions and he knew exactly how to answer them.

this wasn’t scripted. this was too real for him - life was often too real for him. “yeah baby?” he spoke back, his own tone just as hushed as the girls.

she hesitated, almost regretting striking up a conversation. “this hurts.” her quiet voice broke, calum shooting up to face her.

“what hurts, babe?” he questioned, placing a hand on her soft cheek, rubbing his thumb up and down. “tell me what hurts and i’ll fix it, okay?”

he’d never seen her so broken.

he knew she could be sensitive, micheal had warned him and his friends of that when they’d first met y/n. ‘be careful what you say, she gets hurt so easily.’

but calum had never truly believed such a thing, not once had he witnessed y/n cry, or even heard mention of her being upset from something he’d done. (poor oblivious calum, y/n was just very good at hiding it from him.)

“i don’t think you can fix it, cal.” she pouted, tears spilling from her eyes, her mascara beginning to run. “being.. this with you.. it really hurts”

he took back his hand, humming in silent agreement. he’d thought it for a while, he was almost hit with relief that she’d bring it up.

calum had always struggled at doing ‘casual’. he knew he needed to, especially now. if michael found out he was with the boy’s sister, he’d go crazy.

even then, it killed him. not holding her hand in public, not being able to kiss her whenever he wanted. not having the ability to really call her his.

“i just- i don’t want to be your maybe anymore.” she began playing with her shirt, the button suddenly becoming more interesting than calum’s eyes - though, to her, nothing ever really was. “it’s either we’re together or we’re friends. i’m not prepared to be neither, or both.”

calum remained quiet, unable to gather his words. he was rarely ever speechless, but times like this left him more than so. he was never good in sad situations.

“friends.. they aren’t what we are. they don’t love like us. if that’s what you want to be, be it. be my friend, but don’t keep hurting me like this.”

the maori boy smiled sadly, bringing a hand upward, tucking the girls hair behind her ear “i don’t want to be your friend, n/n.” he sighed, watching her face fall further, a thing he didnt quite think was possible. “i want to be your forever.”

a shocked look replaced the sadness, his words hitting her harder than ever, through sobs she brought his lips to hers, smile refusing to leave her face.

“i would love for you to be my forever, hood.”

(i wrote this at 2am don’t fault me if it sucks.)

#calum hood #calum 5sos #5sos #x reader #5 seconds of summer #calum 5 seconds of summer #fluff #angst with a happy ending #angst #fem reader #cute #:)#<3 #foryou #calum hood x you #calum hood x y/n #yippie

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ashtons-lemon-tree · 5 months

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True to North

I orphaned this fic on AO3 a while ago but wanted to repost it. Twas one of my first attempts at a songfic.

Originally written; 07/08/2020

Red red desert, Heal our blues

It had been a while since I'd seen Luke. I knew this relationship would come with him being gone for long spans of time. He'd send his usual 'good morning butterfly' but that was it. Right now I just wish he was home with me & Petunia.

I'd dive deeper for you, What a blessing to feel your love, Twilight moments with you

The tour was nearing the end, pictures from previous dates kept me from going insane. There was one of us at a carnival that Michael had taken. It was a double date with him & Crystal. We had just gotten off the spinning tea cups, her head leaning on my shoulder.

I've been asleep for so long, I'm so far away, Visions I see are strong, I hear what they say

Petunia has taken to sleeping with her head on my chest. Since he'd left for tour, I'd started raiding his closet for hoodies & sweatpants. Anything that smelled like Luke. Petunia must've picked up on that; sure knowing she's missing her dad.

Won't you leave all your fears at the edge of the world? I'll tell you again like I told you before

I remember how I'd been so nervous to ask her out. It took a game of truth or dare for it to happen. Calum had grown tired of my crush on her.

'You have her coffee order memorized, & a whole playlist for her whenever she's in the car'

'So?'

'Just ask her out already!'

It was Ashton's place, we'd all had a few beers when he suggested the game. Michael had first dared me to drink tzatziki sauce. I couldn't do it, ended up throwing up. 'Luke, truth or dare?'

'Truth'

'I dare you to take who you consider the prettiest person in here on a date'

I know neither him or Calum meant for it to be a dare. But I don't regret any of it. I know Arzaylea had broken his heart and made him hesitate when it came to start a new relationship.

I’ve been asleep for so long, wasting away

I had decided to surprise her, saying that I couldn't text her because the band was busy with interviews. Reality was I was on a plane back to my girls. I've been asleep so long, wasting away 'Luke?' 'Did I wake you?' 'Not as much as Tuney slapping me with her tail' I quickly claimed my side of the bed, letting her lay her head on my chest. The routine of that along with Petunia curling up at our feet returning.

~Fin~

#5sos #5 seconds of summer #luke hemmings #lrh #luke robert hemmings #x fem reader #5sos x reader #luke hemmings x reader #luke hemmings x fem reader #5sos x fem reader #rpf

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lavenderrmidnightss · 2 months

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HELLO!!!

So sorry for the lack of posting lately! Life has been absolutely insane in the most wonderful way. I met my best friend, @atinystraynstay , 12 YEARS AGO online bonding over 1D 🫶🏻 and finally got to meet her IRL for the FIRST TIME this past week. Absolutely surreal and so, so happy🩷

I’m going to continue working on my Billy/Corio/Tom drafts but I’m coming back strong into my 5sos era and I’m thinking about writing some 5sos fanfics as well!! Will make a poll for that soon!

Just a quick little update, ily🩷

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jamminvroomvroom · 18 days

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Hey girlll I love your blog so so so much! Congrats on the 4k bc you absolutely deserve it🫶🏼

I just had a little angsty request for Charles lando or Oscar (you can pick any you’re feeling more atm, I eat up anything ab my boys)

I saw this prompt maybe you could use - - "I can be there when you need me!" "But I did, and you weren't."

late night talking.

op x fem norris!reader

in which lando’s little sister has been sneaking around with his teammate, but it’s starting to have its challenges…

hiiiii thank u sm anon! love this request love you MWAH! so appreciative of this request and all of the others and that y’all trust me to bring your ideas to life!! i hope this hits the way you wanted it to! let me know what you think, big love 🤍

songs to set the mood: late night talking by harry styles, i love you by billie eilish, over my head by james marriott, if these walls could talk by 5sos

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, angst, fluff, a bit of hurt/comfort, secret relationship, brothers teammate trope (r is lando’s sister), fingering, morning sex, angsty needy sex, lando being an embarrassing little shit

4.1k words

sex and talking. sex and talking. sex and talking.

that’s what you do, oscar and you.

you watch him all weekend, eyes trailing his lean frame, the way his body moves under papaya fabric. then, when your brother finally leaves you alone, you sneak into oscar’s arms, room, bed, whatever’s closest.

you have your way with one another, nothing untouched, unexplored, and then you talk and talk until your lips hurt from stretched out grins and a satisfying ache sets into your spent limbs. you sneak out when the sun comes up the next day and join lando for breakfast in whatever hotel you’re in that weekend.

rinse, repeat.

you can remember the first time you saw him in real life, way back in early 2023, clear as day. you were in bahrain with your brother for testing, the sun in your eyes, and there he was. awkward, stocky, hands buried deep in his mclaren administered slacks. he was littered with moles, mousey brown hair catching the rays of light, chocolate eyes conveying cool confidence that didn’t at all match up with his uncomfortable stance. you could kiss over those moles like a game of dot to dot, tug on his strands that looked like smooth chocolate frosting, sink into his brown irises until you drowned.

lando had caught you staring, sending his elbow into your ribs, and when you turned to glare at him, cuss him out, you saw a look of warning. his eyes said: don’t you fucking dare.

and you didn’t dare, not for a while at least.

“o-osc.” you whine, panting through the waves of eye-watering pleasure.

he’s got you laid out across his massage table, two fingers scissoring into your sodden cunt as his thumb bumps your clit in messy circles.

it’s rare that you sneak away so brazenly like this during a race weekend.

“you gotta be quiet.” oscar shushes you, eyes flitting between your own watery pair and his fingers where they’re working you open.

“trying.” you breathe, slapping your own hand over your mouth when your belly tightens one last time. one wrong move and the entirety of the hospitality suite will know. lando will know. perhaps all of china will know. that’s how good he fucking feels.

you sob into your palm, bucking your hips wildly as you fall apart, spilling all around his relentless fingers. he fucks you through it, grinning coyly as your muffled cries subside.

“c’mere.” oscar lulls, pulling you back towards him. he kisses you deeply, smiling against your lips.

“i should go.” you mumble, pushing his hair back and raking your fingers through his hair.

oscar nods apathetically, reserved all of the sudden. you frown, stealing another quick kiss. you stumble to your feet fixing your underwear and your skirt, and grab your bag from the small sofa.

“we need to be more careful.” his words make your blood run cold.

“more careful?”

you sneak in and out of hotel rooms under the cover of night, you have his name disguised in your phone, you never speak to him in public.

“this was risky.” oscar shrugs. he looks antsy, his entire demeanour changing in a matter of minutes, the ecstasy of watching you writhe all for him worn off.

“this- i- you’re the one who dragged me in here, piastri.” you accuse. ‘piastri’ is reserved for when you’re pissed off, a cagey step back from the affection ‘osc’ that you usually called him. “whatever, i’ve got to go.”

“i’ll see you later?” he poses it as a question, uncertain that you’ll show. he has never been uncertain before, not with you, not with a lot of things. bile rises in your throat, and you scoff.

you can’t reply. the door slams behind you.

“where’ve you been?” lando ruffles your hair, a single eyebrow raised suspiciously.

“got bored with watching you look at data so i went for a walk.” you reply nonchalantly, pushing his hand away.

he hums in response, nodding slowly. it’s like he doesn’t quite believe you but he quickly moves on.

“you coming out with us after the race tomorrow?” lando asks.

“depends on who ‘us’ is.” you reply curtly. you don’t wanna look at oscar’s stupid, handsome face for a second longer than you have to. a familiar sadness sinks into your bones.

“couple of the drivers, alex, carlos, oh and oscar might even be swayed.” you grit your teeth, suddenly frustrated. “anyway, since when do you have beef with drivers? little miss sunshine fallen out with someone?” lando sounds confused, accusatory.

you stay silent, walking into the back of the garage, praying someone will come and steal your brother away.

“hey, you gonna tell me what the problem i-?”

“lando, we need you to look at this.” your brother gets cut off by a frantic engineer, your prayers answered, and is quickly lost to the chaos of the garage.

a pair of warm eyes burn into the side of your head. you turn to see oscar watching you, his eyebrows furrowed as if he’s studying you. he’s fidgeting, playing with his fingers, something strange for the man as cool as a cucumber. you look away as quickly as you can, managing to tear your eyes away from him, a lump forming in your throat which you swallow down.

it’s painful, really. sex and talking, it’s not enough, never has been for even a second. oscar piastri, australian f1 driver, number 81, quickly became your oscar, somewhat against your will.

somewhere in hungary, about 8 months ago

“are we really doing this, piastri?” you giggle, throwing your head back as his lips work your neck.

“need you.” he groans into your skin, low and needy. you’ve never heard him sound so disheveled, so desperate, a far cry from his usual, monotonous self.

“want you, osc.” you pant when his lips find your sweet spot, the feeling of him so delicious on your body.

“have me.” he whispers, falling into bed with you in his lap.

you lay there basking in stunned silence afterwards, a layer of sweat coating your knackered body. your shoulder is pressed flush with oscar’s, not an inch of space between you while you both stare at the ceiling, sporting matching lazy grins.

“i can’t believe we did that.” oscar mutters, a layer of disbelief in his voice.

“i think we should do it again.” you tease, except you are deadly serious.

“agreed.” he breathes.

“this stays between us, right?” you whisper, shyly.

“always.”

always makes your skin crawl now. you’re sick of having him in the dark, of having to avoid him in public for fear of turning into a lovesick fool. it’s embarrassing, really, unrequited love.

you can barely follow qualifying, staring blankly at the empty space in the garage where oscar’s car resides. you manage to catch the radio message through the headset you have on, the one where oscar’s muttering about a stupid mistake that’s just knocked him out. he’s limping back to the pits, licking his wounds.

you feel a pang in your chest, sympathetic and disappointed for him. you wonder what his mistake was, where his mind was. you’ll wait for the right moment, swallow the ache in your heart and your pride, and you’ll comfort him. he gets led away by frustrated engineers immediately, studying lines of data with furrowed eyebrows. you watch from afar, but then your heart sinks to your feet when four words sound through your headphones.

“lando, are you okay?”

will sounds stressed, repeating the four words that make your world stop spinning on its axis. everyone in the garage is staring at the tv screen, breaths held, stomachs tight.

your brothers car sits in tatters, carbon fibre littering the track. you can see the fluorescents of his helmet burrowed in the cockpit, still. your mouth hangs open, one hand clutching your chest, the other covering your quivering lips. you’re numb.

that feeling returns, the one of eyes burning into your weathered features. your wide eyes flit to the australian boy watching you from across the garage, and you beg silently for him to just come to you, pull you close, tell you that lando is okay and that he loves you back.

and lando is okay, his winded voice reassuring you over the radio.

but you stand there alone.

just like always.

somewhere in brazil, about 5 months ago

“what’s your favourite colour?” oscar mumbles lazily, lips bumping your cheekbone.

you’re curled up on his lap watching the sunset from his balcony. he was well behind lando after qualifying, and he’d craved a moment alone with you all day.

the air was thick, humid, the hot orange sun sinking far off in the horizon. you turn to face him, his features illuminated by the hazy glow. the sunlight makes his chocolate eyes sparkle warmly, so pretty.

“brown.” you whisper, scanning his face.

he laughs lowly, his chest rumbling.

“brown?” he questions teasingly.

“yep.” you grin, pecking his lips softly.

“why?”

“go look at those pretty eyes of yours in the mirror.” you retort smoothly, threading your fingers through his shower-damp strands.

“you flirting with me?”

“you bet i am.”

you twist back around, facing the view once more, moulding into his body. he kisses over your shoulder, resting his chin. you stay there content until the sun is gone and the stars twinkle.

the air in the room is thick, awkwardly silent.

he stands leaning against the desk, opposite where you sit on your bed. the lights are low in your hotel room, the imprint of your body still fresh against the mattress. you’d been crying when he knocked, eyes rimmed red, skin flushed raw.

“you just stood there.” you croak.

“love, i-“

“don’t call me that. please.”

hurt flashes across his features, but like he knows it’s not fair of him to complain, he buries it immediately.

“i just… will you hear me out?” oscar pleads quietly.

you nod feebly.

“it’s impossible. this, us. i wanted to go to you but i- i couldn’t, i didn’t know how that would look and i didn’t want to jeopardise this.”

“but you did.” you whisper. his face shatters, falling fast.

“no, no, i can be there when you need me-“

“but you weren’t!” you cry, your body physically sinking, your shoulders drooping.

“i can fix this, i will.”

“i think we need to stop this, osc. it’s too painful for me. i’ve tried to move past the hurt but after today…” your voice shakes and you crumble, the first tear falling.

“i’m not trying to hurt you.” he crosses the space between you in two rushed steps, collapsing to his knees before you.

“that’s not good enough.” you bite back. “i’m not going to be some guys dirty little secret. i won’t do it anymore oscar.”

“i was trying to protect you… this.” he gestures between you desperately

“i know, oscar. i know! but i never asked you to do that. i can’t love you in a hotel room for the rest of my life.” the words slip from your tongue, abrasive and messy, before your brain can catch up.

you grimace, biting your tongue, but oscar’s reaction couldn’t be further from your own. his watery eyes widen, pink lips pulling into a boyish grin.

“i don’t want to love you in a hotel room for the rest of my life either.” oscar whispers, tentatively taking your hands. you stare down at your slowly intertwining fingers, a familiar warmth oozing through your body. “i wanna love you everywhere.”

“show me.” you murmur through shaky breath.

“i will.” he leans in, leaning in to kiss your shoulder. “for as long as you let me, i will.”

“just come here.” your fingers find the hairs at the nape of his neck, pulling him into a kiss, one born of frustration, and longing, and a year of late night talking about everything except how much you love each other.

oscar pushes you back onto the bed, crawling over you, starving. you pull him flush against you, leaving no room between your bodies. you crave the feel of his entire weight pressing you into the mattress and as he does, you feel at home. when you pull apart, catching your breaths, he says it properly, for the first time, and the world gets lighter.

“i love you.” oscar cups your jaw, those chocolate eyes boring into yours, the intensity of it knocking you for six. “always.” he adds.

the meaning of the word changes. always doesn’t mean a shameful, taboo secret anymore. life is breathed into the six lettered word; always means you and him, together, finally out of the shadows.

“i love you, osc.” you whisper.

he’s smiling when he kisses you again, unbuttoning your blouse like he’ll die if he doesn’t get the offending item off of your frame. you retaliate by shoving his t-shirt up his back, tugging greedily at it to strip him bare. the material comes off easily and as he sits up to throw it away, you shrug off your blouse and it meets his shirt on the floor. his hands smooth over your curves, brushing the pudge of your belly as he finds the zip of your skirt, ruining the fasten in his state of haste. you barely notice the way he’s ruined the item of clothing, urgently unbuttoning his jeans. your underwear is gone too, nothing separating you but your bra, restless hands on heated skin.

“we need to be quiet.” you breathe. “lando’s next door.” oscar giggles, tinged pink.

“get on top, love.” he drawls, flipping onto his back and taking you with him.

he sits up with you in his lap, nothing anchoring either of you in the middle of the bed. the imprint of your devastated form is gone, replaced by the shape of him. you can feel the head of his cock nudging through your folds, slicking him up so that he can slide nice and deep. he trails his fingers between your legs, thumbing at your clit in deft circles, just the way he knows you like it. you’re mewling in his lap, grinding down on the pad of his thumb; it’s so good but it’s not enough.

“please, osc.” you pant, urging him to let you sink down on his cock. you can see how red it is, feel the way it throbs for you, and the need to be full of him is almost paralysing.

“come on, pretty girl. fill yourself up.” oscar mutters against the shell of your ear.

he kisses down your throat as you slide down on him, dropping your hips firm against his.

“fuck.” you cry, your forehead falling against his shoulder.

“you okay, sweetheart? feel so good for me.” oscar coos, his fingertips digging hard into your hips.

“so good, baby.” your head rolls back, feeling him hit that spot tucked away within your walls.

your breaths mingle, your breasts flush against his chest, and as if he realises that he never stripped you of your pesky bra, he grunts, unclasping the black lace and flinging it somewhere far away. he gently mumbles an awestruck “fuck”, as if he hasn’t seen your tits a million and one times before, and latches onto your nipple. his tongue works in slow circles, matching the pace of your hips working languidly on his cock, and you keen further into his body.

“prettiest girl for me.” oscar grits out, his eyes squeezing shut when you clamp down on him, hard.

you’re both trying so hard to be quiet, overwhelmed by touch and taste, love. you’re growing tired, hurtling towards a desperate release, and oscar can sense it, the feel of your quivering thighs tightening around his hips spurring him on. he grinds up into you, maintaining your pace, but he’s fucking you harder now, the anticipation of your release sending shivers down his spine.

“you gonna cum for me?” oscar grunts, holding your hips down against him. you can’t move, his hold too tight and your body too tired, all you can do is wait for your orgasm to hit like a ton of bricks. you nod frantically.

“yes, oscar, please baby.” you beg for it, and like the true gentleman he is, the calloused pad of his pointer finger finds its home on your clit, sending you into an upwards spiral.

it’s as if you’re levitating when you let go, in a dreamlike state, your teeth sinking hard into his pale shoulder to muffle a surefire whine of his name. he’s rutting into you, prolonging the bliss.

“cum inside of me.” you urge, voice barely above a whisper. well, you’ve certainly never done this before.

oscar’s eyes roll into the back of his head, tears pricking his lash line. a guttural gasp of your name spills from his lips when he lets go, painting your insides warm and white. you stare at the tiny indents your teeth had left on his thick shoulder, his breath hitting the crook of your neck warm and wet as he comes down.

“‘m yours, and i’m here. i’m always gonna be here, i promise.” oscar speaks so quietly that you wonder if you’ve imagined it.

“when i made that mistake today, i was thinking about you.”

you’ve been laying there in silence for a while now, tucked under his arm when he speaks. you turn to look at him, perplexed.

“what?”

“i felt so awful about what i said after we, you know. you looked so upset with me, and i don’t blame you.” oscar sighs.

“i just don’t want to feel like a shameful secret, osc.” you tell him quietly, the words heavy on your tongue.

“you won’t, not anymore. ‘m so sorry, sweetheart.” he lulls, kissing over your hairline.

“how do we make this work? and how are we ever gonna explain this to-“

“lando.” oscar cuts you off, shifting uncomfortable. “he’s going to murder me and my entire bloodline.” he chuckles nervously.

“he won’t murder you. he might put you in a gravel trap, though.” you roll onto your side, smiling teasingly up at him and he rolls his eyes.

“i’ll take the heat. you’re worth it.”

“promise me.” you pant, his hips grinding into you. you’re curled into his chest, still spooning and barely awake. he’d woken up needy, and you were even needier, the faint glow of early morning sunshine washing over you through a crack in the beige curtains.

“anything.” oscar stutters, his breath warm against the back of your neck. his nose bumps your skin, teeth scraping the shell of your ear.

you stop meeting his thrusts. he whines low, wordlessly pleading for you to resume. he ruts his hips against your ass, chasing friction.

“tell me it’s all gonna be different now.”

“i already told you, i-“ oscar grunts.

“promise me.” you purposely clamp down on him, a hiss sounding from between his gritted teeth.

“promise, i promise, i love you.”

you giggle, rocking your hips again, fucking yourself onto him once more.

“i know.”

“you gonna let me off the hook?” oscar pants in your ear, tugging on your earlobe with his teeth.

“still gotta prove yourself, piastri.” you moan.

he feels deeper like this and he knows it, revelling in the way he’s filled you up so perfectly. he rolls into you slowly, sliding against each and every spot that makes you squirm. you drop your guard, going limp in his arms to let him finish you off.

“you nearly there, sweetheart? you gonna cum for me, love?” his accents thickens in the mornings, husky and intoxicating. you fall apart, then, and he stays buried inside of you, the only sounds in the room your matching heavy breathing.

“i need you to get dressed.” oscar kisses your cheek.

“kicking me out already?” you feign offence, looking at him over your shoulder.

his fingers come to cup your chin, his forehead resting against yours.

“there’s something we gotta do.”

you’re wearing your skirt from the day before, the waistband rolled over to make up for the oscar-destroyed zipper. his hoodie that you’ve stolen almost completely covers the short skirt, and your messy hair and poorly removed makeup don’t do much to convince anyone that you’d actually slept in your own room last night.

still rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you don’t really comprehend where oscar is leading you, but when the elevator dings, signalling that you’ve reached the restaurant floor, you’re suddenly painfully awake. time seems to move in slow motion, your tummy twisting as you realise what’s about to happen.

ahead of you, tucked into the corner of the restaurant is your brother, jon, and ashley. lando is already draped in team kit, the papaya of his hoodie blaring obnoxiously for once, a warning sign.

“oscar, what-“

“i’m doing this.” he affirms, speeding up his stride.

oh my god oh my god oh my fucking god.

your heart speeds up, dropping to the pit in your belly when lando notices you, eyebrows furrowed, jaw clenched, eyes taking in the bewildering sight before him. his baby sister, disheveled and wide-eyed, and his teammate holding her hand, on a mission.

“what the fuck am i looking at?” lando doesn’t sound angry, per say, more perplexed than anything. there is an edge to his voice that you don’t particularly like, but he hasn’t started swinging yet, you suppose.

“i’m in love with your sister. like, for real. you deserve to know that.” oscar says confidently, somewhat monotonously.

lando opens his mouth, closes it. opens it again, closes it. he repeats the process a few more times, going through the motions of an emotional rollercoaster.

but then, he sighs deeply, a grin of disbelief stretching across his face. jon bangs on the table excitedly, and ash is shaking his head.

“you owe us so much money.” jon laughs, his head tipping back.

“pay up, boss.” ash sticks his hand out expectantly, smirking across the table.

“what… what?” you exclaim, narrowing your eyes in confusion.

“i didn’t wanna believe them.” lando shrugs.

“don’t blame you.” oscar chimes in, and you stare between the two mclaren drivers in bewilderment.

“are you okay with this?” you question, staring your brother in the eyes, still a bit disoriented by the entire situation. his face softens, a genuine smile lingering small on his lips.

“if you’re happy, i’ll make my peace with it.” lando’s eyes flit between you and oscar.

all of the sudden, a look of horror crosses his face, and his voice turns stern.

“but,” he inhales shakily. “if i ever, ever, hear again what i think i heard last night,” he glares at oscar, pointing one firm finger at the australian, who stands up a bit straighter. “you’re dead, piastri.”

jon and ash bite back giggles at the empty threat, and you take it upon yourself to put an end to the situation before it gets any more awkward.

“well, on that note!” you sing-song, dragging oscar away.

“and make sure you’re using protection!” lando calls out, panic stricken, big brother mode activated.

“oh my god.” you blush dark pink, speeding up, the elevator in your sights.

“that went well.” oscar quips sarcastically. he looks rather happy with himself.

you kiss him as soon as the metal doors shut.

you do go out after the race, but for once it’s not to drink away the memories of a weekend in oscar’s arms. this time, it’s to celebrate the fact that you can love him out loud, and he’ll do the same right back.

you’re dancing in his arms, bright lights in shades of blues and purples streaming over your bodies. oscar holds you close, keeps you wrapped in his arms, despite the shock on the faces of others at the sight of lando norris’s baby sister publicly besotted with his teammate.

when oscar kisses you deep, smiling against your lips that taste like cherry liquor, you know that this last year of your life wasn’t in vain.

you and oscar, you’re built to last.

“how did you not see it, mate?” charles beams, crinkles by his eyes from the wide smile he’s sporting. he’s clearly drunk, but lando is too.

it appears he’s clocked the brits sister and her australian suitor on the dance floor.

the monagasque has rocked up to the bar with alex and pierre in tow, the three of them slapping lando on the back as they arrive.

“i guess there were signs.” lando shrugs, dragging his finger over the rim of the crystal glass.

“signs? mate it was obvious.” pierre chuckles, pushing lando’s shoulder.

“wait, you all knew?” lando splutters.

yeah. duh. come on, man.

“why didn’t you tell me?”

“it’s funnier.” charles… winks? it’s hard to tell with him.

lando finds you in the crowd, grinning up at oscar like he hung the stars in the sky. the younger mclaren driver returns your look, and it sparks warmth in lando’s chest.

you’re gonna be okay.

hehe

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ma1dita · 1 month

Text

now that we're older

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 3.5k

summary: (established relationship) The one where he asks if you can stay the night even if all of cabin 11 makes fun of him. Luke is tired of the routine. He just needs his girl. (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)

a/n: its really something about me always posting at 4am.... listened to three songs on a loop while writing and they were all called ‘older’. 5sos-> gracie abrams-> lizzy mcalpine—this works for the trajectory of trouble & luke if you give it a listen; anyways you guys deserve the fluff. PLEASE TELL ME THIS IS HAPPY (ignore the...tinge of angst) BUT THIS IS HAPPY RIGHT? RIGHT? scream at me in the comments & enjoy <3

(posted 3/26/24, semi-edited)

—

Luke lets you love him in the nighttime.

It’s not to say that you don’t love him every second of the day and then some, but he’s much softer at night, weathered down and stripped of the many roles he carries. Maybe it’s the weight from the responsibility of being an all-star cabin counselor or the bone-deep ache of being camp’s best swordsman, perhaps even the ailment of being Hermes’ favorite forgotten son—but he endures until the night where he can lay it all down and be nothing but yours.

And you let him.

The mask usually starts to fall apart during dinner when he comes to sit at your table— besides the extra space, Luke likes intentionally knocking his knees against yours, the hand not holding his fork squeezing the inside of your thigh. He’s more open and receptive to your doting by the time the sun sets, fiddling with the hem of your camp shirt on the walks to the bonfire, letting you hang off his arm as you sidestep each other’s feet, hip to hip in hushed giggles. Whether it be chatty campers running through attempts at kisses, Chiron and Mr. D accidentally interrupting your loving glances, or occasional interference from the gods above, there’s only so many ways to be together in the in-between.

Tonight he’s yawning as he places his head on yours from behind, the both of you watching all your campers file out towards the amphitheater. A gentle smile graces your face and he’s warm all over, arms caging around your chest as you lightly sway against the summer breeze.

“You okay, angelface?”

Humming in response, he lowers his cheek to yours and whispers a proposition.

“Wanna skip the bonfire? Like how we used to…”

Turning to face him, your nose bumps against the scar on his cheek, and he feels the teeth of your smile on his skin as you mumble, “That was before cabin 7 needed an understudy for special requests, babe.”

“You could still sing for me. I’ll even clap if you want,” he muses before warbling out a few off-key notes to your favorite song until you’re a mess of giggles under him, fingers reaching up to cover his lips.

“That’s terrible,” you say between fits of laughter, until your eyes meet Percy and Grover’s wandering ones, “Hey! You two ready for your quest tomorrow?” Luke’s hold on you falters into an afterthought, fingers playing with your belt loops as the boys walk to the center of the clearing to meet you two.

He thinks about his little sister going on a quest to prove herself to her mother, even if it’s not her own cross to bear. He thinks about the satyr risking his life to protect another demigod who follows in his footsteps, and finally his dark eyes land on the sandy-haired boy destined to get caught in the crossfire. Luke’s feet feel heavy as if they’re cemented to the ground, and when you step away to greet the boys, he stays where he is. You misinterpret it for his fatigue, which is only part of what’s weighing on his mind.

“Luke? Go on ahead, I’ll cover for you. Get some rest.” But he can’t sleep without you; the times he’s tried are met with a touch of darkness only you can will away. He wants to hold on to you for as long as he can— Luke’s always been more vulnerable in the nighttime, with or without you.

Later he finds himself staring at the ceiling of his cabin, thrashing in the twin bed against the back wall as he rests his eyes and tries to get comfortable. There are reminders of you wherever he looks, gauzy white curtains strung up around his bed like swirling clouds, pictures of the both of you pinned to the worn walls of Hermes’ refuge for the unclaimed, and though he’s always known his heritage—the way he can pick out your voice through the sound of all the others that file in reminds him who his heart belongs to. Luke shuts his eyes until he feels your lips on his forehead, balmy from your berry chapstick with a hint of your smile. He murmurs your name sleepily, but your hands tickle his torso as you lift the hem of his shirt up.

“Woah there, keep it PG. There are children here!” Travis says mockingly, and the sound of giggles and shuffling sheets fills the room as everyone gets ready for bed. There’s a resounding thud that follows and that makes him open his eyes.

“Mind out of the gutter, Stoll! You know your brother overheats at night,” you mutter, and his hands are already ghosting your hip in silent confirmation. Tearing your lavender gaze from Travis who’s spitting out feathers from across the way, you look down at him and mumble, “Sleepy, angelface? They’ll do cabin checks soon and then it’s lights out.”

“Don’t wanna sleep without you. I can wait,” he slurs, saying your name slowly like he’s writing it out. Luke looks at you blearily when he sits up, rubbing the drowsiness from his eyes as he pulls his shirt off from the nape of his neck. When the orange fibers lift from his vision, he sees you in sleepwear (all stolen from his closet, just the way he likes it) and your face shiny with skincare.

“Was gonna get you ready for bed, babe. Got Lee to cover for me tonight and Beck and Katie are on morning shift. Wanna go to mine?”

He knows he should. The both of you never play hooky, not since taking up your counselor positions 3 years ago. Luke doesn’t remember the last time either of you were in bed before midnight and up before 6 the next morning. Never on purpose at least—the surprise jolts him awake a little as he cocks his head at you curiously.

“Got off the hook, trouble?”

The question makes you bite your lip, “You’re acting surprised. Something told me you needed it.” He flops back down on the worn mattress, far too soft with age that his back tweaks a little when he moves over for you and pats the space you’ll take up. It’s his though—even if it doesn’t have his name on it, and for once he just wants to sleep in here with his girl like everything is right in the world (and ignore that he’s about to tear it all up). He thinks he might actually miss this cabin, the sound of his scuffling siblings, the way things quickly disappear and reappear at the change of hands in this community of outcasts, but most of all, he’s going to miss you and how you can settle them down with a single hush.

“Can we stay here tonight? Too comfy. Never get to admire the little setup you made for me here since we’re in 12 so often.”

“M’not going anywhere, my love,” you whisper as you push back the curtains, climbing into his bed to cuddle against him, but he shifts so that his head is on your chest. Luke’s hugging you like he’s a weighted blanket, and he strings a garland of kisses along your collarbone leading up to the space over your heart. Running your hands through his hair, you sing to him quietly until lights out, not even noticing the change while you’re looking at each other eye to eye. No one laughs at your lullaby, the sound of your voice tucking the rest of the cabin to sleep.

Almost losing consciousness again, his cheek shakes with the giggle that rises from your chest as you whisper, “Didn’t know you put our camp prom photo up on your wall. We look like we hate each other.”

“You were so mad because I kept stepping on the bottom of your dress. Had to get your attention somehow,” he chuckles, before tightening his hold on you, “I knew I liked you already by then, too. Wasted too much time trying to get Chiron in a prom dress with the boys that I didn’t get the chance to ask you to dance.”

“Ended up on a bead though. Is that what that memory tells you, angelface?”

“You’re my favorite memory, trouble,” he sighs, muscles relaxing at the feeling of your fingertips tracing stars into the planes of his back. Then hearts. A squiggle of something you tell him is obviously a centaur, which makes his brows furrow, before he kisses your chin when you spell out your name. Slowly, like you want him to remember it. He does.

“I’m still here, silly—pretty sure to be a memory, time has to take me away first. Not letting that happen. Me and you forever if I can help it,” you say breathily, voice tinged with sleep and so much love for him that feels like it chokes you, but that might just be the angle of your neck as you try to look down at him again. Dopamine lines your system at his words, and you let out a strained sigh—lovesick and heady with the feeling.

“I know but you’re in all my favorite ones too. When I think of you, everything’s better. Like I didn’t eternally fuck up my fate before I even turned 20,” he jokes, and like a lot of them, they fall flat. You hope that by wrapping your legs around him Luke will know how much you want to crawl into his skin and hold his heart to protect it. That with you, he won’t ever have to be alone. Words are never enough, after all. Even if you have nothing you need to prove, it won’t stop you from trying to show him.

“Still a few weeks off, so don’t try your luck. There are worse fates than falling in love with you, Luke Castellan.”

He turns from the wall at the sound of that, wanting to disagree, but you kiss him before he can protest.

“I’m the lucky one. Sometimes I think loving you was the only thing I did right,” he murmurs, before drifting off. You’re the last thing he looks at before he goes to sleep, the way he likes it—like a longstanding memory he gets to keep before he’s vulnerable again in his dreamstate. He’s the strongest when you’re with him, and his brain goes quiet. No one dares to break him when he’s with you like this.

Not a dream, nor a titan.

You can't imagine sleeping another night without this crick in your neck with his name on it, the shape of him pressed into your body. With only the moon as your witness, you whisper words of devotion, sneak featherlight kisses wherever you can reach, and hope that they get to your love, wherever his mind is right now.

“I love you, I love you, I love you…”

—

You let him love you in the mornings.

Even unknowingly, it seems. On a normal day, your alarm would ring and you’d sleepily pat Luke (his face, chest, whatever part of him you could reach with your eyes closed) so he could shut it off. He’d let you sleep in a couple extra minutes (somewhere between 5-10) before pulling you from unconsciousness with a hug.

This morning, with no alarms ringing in his ears Luke finds that he wakes up a little before you anyway. Down to his circadian rhythm, you’ve affected him, and he takes it with an upwards quirk of his lip as he squints at the sunlight through the sheer curtains that brush against your arms. He watches you delicately, even with the sounds of a lively morning filling the cabin—everyone up and ready for the day while you two are wrapped in your little bubble. It’s a stupid thought that crosses his mind, but a coherent one nonetheless; jealousy fills his chest at the sight of sunlight kissing every inch of your skin that he can only try to reach. He runs his hands from where they’re tucked underneath your waistband to the expanse of your back, and over your shoulders until you’re humming under your breath, midway out of a dream.

Luke takes an extra moment to admire the way you latch onto him and he finds it almost frustrating how everyone from the gods above to the demigods at Camp Half-Blood down to the powers that damn him to Tartarus know you’re his biggest weakness. It’s almost unfair how you’re his strength too— the sheath that reminds him not to cut, the control behind his unbridled rage that heats up the back of his neck like a brand but instead of feeling fire, he feels sunlight.

You search for him in every sunrise, light refracting through your irises until a smile settles on your cheeks like you want to say, “Yes, I’m here with you. ”

“Good morning, pretty girl.”

The both of you shifted during the night, almost as if in a dance of limbs and dreams, and somehow you’re nestled against his side and using his bicep as a pillow. It flexes as Luke raises his arm to brush the hair away from your face, when you kiss his scar and mumble, “Did we miss breakfast?”

“Almost over, but we can just grab something from the kitchens. Surprised everyone left us alone, actually,” he says thoughtfully, “the kids might’ve already left for their quest.” He likes watching you reorient yourself into the land of the living, before you step into your boots of being head counselor, before you put on the facade of being the perfect demigod—the protector and glue of Camp Half-Blood.

“Mmhm… was gonna offer my lighter to Percy and them last night for protection, but he was wearing your shoes. You gave them to him?”

Luke wipes drool from the side of your lip, watching you kiss his thumb in thanks with no thought as it was as easy as breathing. A half smile splits through the scar on his face as he says, “He’s gonna need them. For luck.” You lift your upper body up and look at him, hair forming a halo around your face and you sniff, “But you loved those shoes. Gift from your dad aside, I know they’re one of your prized possessions.”

He coaxes you back into his arms as he shifts up and leans against the wall. Prying eyes would think you’re hugging, sitting heart to heart on the small mattress.

“Annie didn’t take your lighter?”

He knows you’re rolling your eyes against his shoulder, feeling your fingers clutch at his curls to pull him away to look at you. You look at him knowingly and say, “Stop trying to change the subject. Anyways, Annie said if we help them anymore she’ll think we don’t trust them enough to come back alive.”

“I mean it when I say you’re all I care about. Shoes…None of it matters.”

“What I care about is how you used to love flying around in those things. Even if you pissed me off a lot with them too,” you say, and the both of you laugh. They were a consolation from his dad after his quest, probably the closest thing to an apology (or even a “hello, glad you’re alive!”) he’d ever gotten from Hermes. Though the scar on his cheek was more than enough of a reminder of that—he didn’t touch the shoes until a few months after, when you taught him how to drive. Luke propositioned you promising to take you out on a spin once, and you thought he meant the car…

“You loved them more than I did,” he grins, and you recoil and slap his chest.

“You flung me onto the roof of the dining pavilion, Luke.”

“It was an accident! Plus it did make cabin checks go faster…Once I got the hang of them,” he snorts, deciding to pull you to stand. Batting away the curtain, he’s sliding into his slippers and Luke helps you step onto his feet and you groan into his chest, “What are you doing? M’gonna break your toes, Lu—”

“Shhh…I’m the strongest guy you know. Can handle anything for ya.”

He backs the both of you up to the center of the cabin, spinning you in slow circles to an imaginary beat. One hand around your waist and the other interlaced with yours as your smile feels like sun beaming through a window as you ask, “How did I ever get so lucky to fall in love with you, Luke Castellan?”

You’ll never tell him, but that’s the only thing you’ll be ever grateful to Hermes for.

He shakes his head in astonishment as he whispers, “I love you, you know that?” It hurts his head if he thinks too hard—how does a love so intoxicating manifest as something so gentle? How can he be powered by your love but still fueled by hate? How can he be both damned and saved by you? Luke wonders if his thoughts even break the surface of how busy the mind of a daughter of Dionysus is—to know insanity in love, and still be able to welcome it with open arms.

“Beats prom, huh? Am I a good dance partner?”

You tilt your head, tongue in cheek as you gaze at your boy like he’s said something stupid, and though it’s been a year and change, you hope the fluttery feeling Luke gives you will never go away. With him, you never have to pretend—never needing to mince your words or soften the blow. You’ve never felt more yourself than how you feel hand in hand with him.

“We’ve always been good partners, me and you.”

He sways you in the momentary quiet of cabin 11 as you step away and hold the bottom of your (his) shirt out like the frills of a skirt, and Luke raises your arm overhead and then you’re spinning, spinning, spinning…

The front door swivels open, and Chris peeks his head in.

“Hey lovebirds, sorry to interrupt but Sword and Shield is starting soon, and Clarisse still has your names on the roster…”

You both sigh.

“You signed up for offense?”

“And you signed up for defense, so don’t look at me like that, trouble…”

Instantly the two of you harden your stances, parrying at each other’s torsos with hands as your swords until you try to make a run for it and drag Chris behind you to use him as a human shield.

“Hey! Oof—”

Moving as quick as a bullet, Luke accidentally knocks the wind out of his brother who’s now hunched over as you laugh at him like a madwoman.

“You two are going to have weirdly violent children one day,” Chris huffs, before stepping back towards the door, “See ya in 30!”

Cheeks reddening at his brother’s comment, Luke crosses his arms and takes a good look at you, bathing in the light of the open doorway and looking like the rest of his life.

“Well, back to work. Bit too good to be true, huh babe?”

“For now,” he says thoughtfully, “Summer will be over soon though. Gonna get quieter around here for sure…”

You’re already stepping off the front porch walking backwards as you grin, throwing your arms up in the air as you make your way across the path to your cabin to get ready for the day. You’d hate to leave camp—it's as true as your love for performing, caring for others, and most especially, him. He knows it because he knows you, and unlike most things, that’s never going to change.

Not if he can help it.

“Summer doesn’t last forever. But we’ll still have the fall, the winter, and whatever’s next…me and you.”

You’re yelling to him over the railing of your porch and he nods his head at you, turning away before you speak again, “Maybe one day when we’re older!”

“What was that baby?”

Looking at Luke like you already have it all planned out in your head, you say softer, “Kids. If that’s what’s in the cards for us. Though I do like practicing…”

Instantly he cracks up but nods, because there’s no future he can conceive without you being in it. There’s a serious turn in his response and it makes your heart beat out of your chest.

“Anything you want. You know I don’t leave anything up to fate. Not glory, not you.”

Everything you touch turns into gold, and he hopes somehow he would too. Two sides of the same coin, striving for a good ending, one worth remembering—one to last forever.

You get to love each other in the in-between, when time can’t get in the way. The clock is always ticking though, rattling against his brain as a reminder.

Luke just wants to make sure there’ll come a day where there’ll be no more interruptions.

—

“When is a monster not a monster? Oh, when you love it. Oh, when you used to sing it to sleep.” Caitlyn Siehl

½ luke taglist: @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01@poppysrin@ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r@visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri

#luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo x reader #trouble!verse #made by ma1dita ♥︎#luke castellan fluff

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venusacrossthestars · 24 days

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I <3 Australians

pairing- Oscar Piastri x fem!reader

summary: You had an obsession with Australians, your boyfriend and love for the Australian band 5 Seconds of Summer proved as much. So what better way to show your girlfriend you love her than take her to see her other fave Australians?

wc- 2.4k

a/n- HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE LOML OSCAR PIASTRI this is the self-indulgent fic I have been talking about. I am a 5SOS stan and idc if this flops or not because I truly only wrote this for me. also this isn't edited bc I could not be bothered to do so

f1 masterlist

You had a thing for Australians, your boyfriend was proof of that. But even before you met Oscar, you had been a fan of the Australian band- 5 Seconds of Summer. While other girls were in their One Direction phase, you were busy fawning over the 4 Australians. You were one of lucky few that were able to see both when 5SOS opened for One Direction. You were a stan, all of your family and friends knew it. But most importantly Oscar knew it as well.

He was familiar with the band, they were after all from the same country. He became even more familiar with them after the two of you got to together. Anytime he picked you up and graced you with the aux cord, chances were that 5 Seconds of Summer was blasting through the speakers. Oscar didn’t mind, the music was half bad either, not that he would ever say anything negative about it to you.

So when he saw that tickets were on sale for there newest tour and that one of the UK dates just happened to line up with a non-race weekend, he was quick to purchase tickets. The hardest part of this whole ordeal was keeping it quiet from you. Which is exactly why Oscar only lasted 24 hours before spilling the beans.

Today was Oscar and yours designated ‘lazy day’, no responsibilities, no worries, a day filled with absolutely nothing. Oscar had gone into your shared office about 20 minutes ago, what he was doing, you had no clue and frankly you were too busy watching Bones to really care.

You watch as Oscar appears from his office, hands behind his back hiding something from your view, “I have a surprise for you. Close your eyes.”

You quirk an eyebrow at Oscar’s sudden exclamation. “Should I be scared?” You ask, as you sit up on the couch.

“No. Just close your eyes.”

You do as he ask, trusting him fully. You feel him place something in your lap, however, it was too light to for you to fully make out what it was.

“Ok, you can open them.”

As you open your eyes you look down at your lap. You weren’t sure what to expect but it surely wasn’t a folded piece of paper. “A piece of paper?”

Oscar rolls his eyes at your comment, “Look what’s written on it.”

You unfold the paper and it takes a few seconds for to comprehend what is on it. You look at Oscar then back down at the paper, back to Oscar, back to the piece of paper and finally back to Oscar. “You didn’t,” is all you can say.

“I did.”

“Oscar this isn’t funny. I swear to God if you are joking you are sleeping on this couch.” On that little folded piece of paper is written confirmation for 2 VIP pit tickets for the 5 Seconds of Summer Show.

“Surprise!” Oscar shouts, face scrunched up from smiling so hard.

You launch yourself from the couch and into his awaiting arms. You pepper his face with kisses. “Thank you- Thank you-Thank you. You are literally the best boyfriend ever.”

“You don’t need to thank me baby. I know how much you love them.”

Your smile widens into a grin. You reach up to pinch his cheeks, “Don’t worry you’ll always be my favorite Australian.”

“I better be.”

The weeks leading up to the concert were difficult for you. You were torn in between wanting to know the setlist and not. You had done your best to stay in the dark with majority of the songs you did however know one thing they were going to be doing.

“Osc, they throw a giant inflatable dice into the crowd and whatever song it lands on when it’s back up on stage is the surprise song they play!”

Oscar shoots you a confused look. The two of you were on your way to the venue and you couldn’t stop talking off Oscar’s poor ear about the concert. You tired to reel in your excitement and everytime you apologized for being so excited, Oscar, like the good boyfriend he is, would tell you not to worry and that he loved seeing you so excited.

“And,” you begin again, “one of my favorite songs is on the dice!”

“Which one?”

“English Love Affair!”

Oscar nods, “Isn’t that the one about Harry Styles’ sister?”

“Yes! I can’t believe you remembered.”

“See I know a thing or two.”

“So proud of you baby,” you lean over and press a kiss to his cheek.

You managed to convince Oscar to dress the part of 2014 grunge 5SOS, not that it was a challenge considering majority of pants this man owned were skinny jeans. You had your own get-up, black skinny jeans (that you had to dig out for your side of the closet), black converse, a white baby tee with a graphic that read ‘I <3 Australians’ and a red flannel tied around your waist. Adorning your wrist were the multiple friendship bracelets you had made.

You could only be described as Wattpad Y/N. When Oscar had seen your shirt he had raised a questioning brow and had asked “I hope that shirt only means me.”

After going through security you and Oscar were officially in the venue. Oscar was in search of something to eat and you were on the hunt for the merch stand.

“What do you want to eat?” Oscar asks you as you stand in concession line.

“Hmmm,” you take a peek at the menu, “I’ll have a pretzel.”

Oscar, ever the gentleman, pay for both of your snacks and drinks. You barely have your food in hand before you are dragging Oscar to the merch stand.

The line was long enough that the two of you could eat and silently debate with yourself what you wanted to get.

Oscar leans his head on your shoulder, “You have to get the papaya hoodie.”

You roll your eyes, “You’re so pretentious, it’s literally orange.”

“Still you look good in orange.”

“I better considering I wear it nearly every weekend.”

While in line you chat with a few other fans, exchanging bracelets, predictions and hopes of what the dice song will be. You are interrupted by the feeling of eyes on you and Oscar, you glance over your shoulder to see a group of girls huddled in a circle. One of them is pointing to Oscar and yourself.

You eventually get your merch, Oscar insisting on getting the ‘papaya’ hoodie for you. As the two of you were walking to the wristband station, you one of the girls from the group from earlier approaching.

“Excuse me,” one of them asks timidly, “you’re Oscar Piastri, right?”

Oscar nods his head, “That’s me.”

“Okay, that’s what my friend thought,” she points over to where her other friends are standing, all now much more interested in their shoes, “I’m really sorry to interrupt your date but I wanted to ask if it’s okay if we could take a picture with you.”

Oscar looks at you and you nod your head. He knows he doesn’t need permission, but today was supposed to be a day for the two you. “Sure, we can take some pictures.”

After your run in with Oscar’s fans the rest of night moves in a blur and before you know it the lights dim and the crowd starts to grow crazier, yourself included.

You grab Oscars arm, “It’s starting oh my god, oh my god.”

Oscar rubs your hair, “Are you excited?”

“Is the sky blue?”

The overtune starts and you can see Ashton, Micheal, Luke, and Calum take their places on stage. The familiar instrumental beginning of ‘Bad Omens’ fills your ears and you can hardly contain your scream.

Oscar watches in adoration as you sing along, knowing every word. He can’t help but join in. You might’ve not known the setlist, but Oscar did. He added it to his Spotify the night he bough tickets and listened to it when he could. He wanted to make sure that he could sing along with you.

The first 3 songs pass in a blur- Bad Omens, 2011, Caramel- and not knowing the setlist proved to be the right choice on your part because when Blender starts you nearly make Oscar deaf with your scream.

“I’d die for you, I’d die for you, I’d die for you,” you sing looking Oscar directly in the eye. He only shakes his head at you antics. You bop and dance around to the chorus, grabbing Oscar to join in on your chaos and by the second verse he is fully dancing along with you.

Everyone is bumping into each other having a blast, personal space be damned. You were to high on life to care about the repercussion that you would be facing tomorrow-bruised feet and a sore throat.

More songs play and the boys interact with fans, your screaming and hollering along with them. Oscar’s face lights up at the beginning of ‘She’s Kinda Hot’ and he turns to you with a grin on his face, “I know this one!”

“My girlfriends bitchin’ cause I always sleep in. She’s always screaming when she’s callin’ her friend. She’s kinda hot though!” Oscar sings along, wiggling his eyebrows at you when he sings the last line.

Rolling your eyes you give him a light shove away from you. You take a moment to admire Oscar, thankfully that you have a loving boyfriend that would take you to see your other favorite Australians.

The mood takes a 180 when the chords of ‘Amnesia’ fill the venue. You can’t help the tears that line your eyes and the shakiness of your voice when you sing along. Oscar looks at you, concern etched on his face, you wave him off. It was just a sad song, that’s all.

The lights dim and on the big screen you see Ashton, Luke, Micheal and Calum in there suit get up. You know what time it was- Dice time. They explain the rules, if the dice isn’t back on stage within a minute then they’ll be picking the song instead.

Luke hurls the dice into the crowd and the timer begins. Hands are flying up as the dice moves across the pit, you and Oscar watch and before you know it the dice is coming towards the two of you. You stand on your tippy toes to help Oscar, and the other around you, push it back towards the stage.

“That was strangely horrifying,” Oscar tells you.

“Not something I would want to see coming towards me again.”

The dice lands on stage and you have both your fingers crossed, praying that it’s English Love Affair. You look at the screen to see the graphic stop on English Love Affair, and the noise that escapes you is hardly human. All Oscar can do it laugh at your reaction.

Just like with the rest of the songs, you sing along, there is however a little more passion when you sing along to this one. “The picture burning in my brain, kissing in the rain. No, I can't forget my English love affair.”

Oscar wraps his arms around your middle and rest his head on your shoulder, he still couldn’t believe that this song was about Harry Styles’ sister. Oscar may not admit it but every time you told him about any celebrity tea, he always listened. And granted this was old news, but it was new to him the first time he heard this song.

You were panting at the end of the song. “Having fun babe?” You ask Oscar, hoping that your little performance didn’t scare him off.

“I am. I thought you had some performances in the car, but those are nothing compared to what I just watched.”

Before you know it, ‘She Looks So Perfect’ is playing, signaling that the end of the concert is near. You know that the post concert depression would be hitting extra hard the next morning. As the final chord plays and the boys bow off stage you turn to Oscar, asking him if he is ready to go.

“There are two more songs left, for the encore.” He tells you, still planted in his spot.

You shoot him a look, “How do you know that?”

You watch as Oscar’s cheeks grow red, “I might’ve learned the setlist so I could sing along with you. And trust me, you don’t want to miss these ones.”

You knew that they would probably come back out to play ‘Youngblood’ it was their most popular song, however you weren’t sure why Oscar was so insistent that you wanted to hear the other one.

So when they came back on stage and the familiar ‘Oh-whoa’s’ graced your ears you nearly burst into tear. You weren’t expecting to hear ‘Outer Space’ live, ever. You had made peace with this fact so you really couldn’t help it when tears started streaming down your face.

Oscar knew of your history with the Sounds Good Feels Good album, that was an album that you related to so closely, he also knew how much Outer Space/Carry on meant to you.

Oscars hand, now wrapped around your shoulders, brought you closer into his chest as you sang along, softer than you had been singing the entire night, “ I will wait for you, to love me again… I guess I was running, from something. I was running back to you.”

Oscar leans his head in closer and presses a soft kiss into your cheek. Oscar reaches into his back pocket and hands you his phone, flashlight already on, so you could join in with everyone else.

“The darkest night never felt so bright with you by my side,” Oscar sings along. And while you couldn’t see him, you knew that he was looking at you with nothing but love his eyes.

The two of you sway in each others embrace, singing along to the ending-

Nothing like the rain, nothing like the rain

When you're in outer space, when you're in outer space

Nothing like the rain, nothing like the rain

When you're in outer space , when you're in outer space

Love me like you did, love me like you did

I'll give you anything, I'll give you anything

Love me like you did, love me like you did

I'll give you anything, I'll give you anything

You turn in Oscars arms, you bring your hands up to cup his face and pull him in for a sweet kiss. It wasn’t the most romantic kiss the two of you have shares, you were both sweaty, tired, you definitely had tears running down your face, and there was probably some snot in the mix. It might’ve not been the most romantic, but it was something so personal and that’s all that you needed.

a/n: also as I said this was extremely self-indulgent and ik you can def tell. but in all seriousness 5SOS is my favorite band and their album- Sounds Good Feels Good is the album to listen to if you need to get some feels out. I cry every time I listen to Outer Space/Carry on.

I was lucky enough to see them last year at the '5 Seconds of Summer Show' and hearing Outer Space live was an out of body experience. If you ever need some song recommendations for a certain mood, they have a song for nearly everything.

taglist- crossed out names mean I couldn't tag you

@arieslost @customsbyjcg-blog @gr1mes-cc @styl1shl1v @landoscardotcom @poppyflower-22 @blancastans @katiezdiarysblog @mrsstylez @jamieeboulos @tpwkstiles @peanutaj @hiireadstuff @hwalllllllelujah @purple9950 @chaoticpenguindetective @crazymofo-96 @harriesnuggets @inlovewithsierrasix @luckyladycreator2 @luanasrta @inejghafawifesblog @ineedmoremilkk @swiftpiastri@virgo-wonder @faith-f1 @lily1sposts @animetiddies-21 @melissaw1202 @hauntedphotographybookstaco @livelovesports @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 @slaygirlbossworld @pastryboyyy @pookiesnukoms @minkyungseokie @f1enthusiastsstuff @mirrorballpulisic @notturlover @notso-sweetcaroline @verspia @mk-wrote @whentheautumnleavesfall @trywhisperingtotheocean @sadbut-true0 @akiraquote @hockeylover4ever @imaginedworldsstuff @sassyangel16 @motkanykodas @foulsongfest @bingewatche @lonely92world @flonaschicken @cvnts3rver @cayls33 @grungy-blue-hipster @kikinuke2 @slupin333

#f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fic #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 fanfic #oscar piastri #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #op81 #op81 imagine #op81 x reader #op81 fluff #op81 fic #mclaren

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harrysloveboat · 8 months

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John B’s Girl | JJ Maybank Fic

Summary: JJ Maybank was absolutely screwed. So detrimentally screwed. John B was going to actually end him. The blonde haired surfer had a thing for his best friend’s girl, (Y/N) Cameron. And when JJ notices something he shouldn’t, all bets are off.

Word Count: 6.8K, (18+, Minors DNI, Mature Audience)

Warnings: Smut, rough sex, choking, semi-public sex, cheating, dirty talking, thigh riding, car sex, mention of toys, alcohol, p in v, unprotected sex, oral sex (fem receiving), degrading, Dark!JJ, JJxReader, John BxReader, Cameron!Reader, sprinkles of fluff included, I think I might’ve made Dark!John B too by accident, etc.

Please read warnings before continuing. Really tempted to make a second part if anyone wants it! The ending kinda makes me think a second part is just necessary. Mostly unedited.

Constructive criticism and requests open on my page. I write about Harry, 5SOS, Outer Banks, and TSITP! Thank you x

It’s been an entire week of watching (Y/N) Cameron unraveling before JJ’s blue eyes.

JJ has no idea how the girl got herself into this predicament, and he certainly doesn’t understand how he’s been the only one out of his friends to notice what’s been going on between John B and his girlfriend.

Actually he does understand why, but he refuses to admit it. How could he ever come clean about the way his body ached when she was near? Or how his heart thumped out of his chest when she would accidentally brush her bare skin against his during hot summer days on the H.M.S. Pogue. Even the tender way she’d brush loose strands of blonde hair from his forehead in passing would send shocks of electricity to every corner of his body.

But this annoyingly long week was painfully different from the rest.

(Y/N) had done something on Monday.

JJ wasn’t sure what, but he knew something she had done had sent John B off the deep end. Because for the whole day, John B wouldn’t spare a kind glance her way. No matter how many times she’d initiate a conversation, nudge his arm, intertwine their hands, or even sit on his lap, John B was an absolute rock. His responses were short and curt and his eyes would focus on anything but her.

The next day is when John B really enacted his revenge.

(Y/N) was doing everything she could to get back into his good graces. That morning, she woke up early to stop at the grocery store. Buying so many things that JB’s fridge was fully stocked when she returned.

Breakfast was her first attempt. There was bacon crisping in the oven, sending a mouthwatering aroma to every Pogue in The Chateau. She was scrambling eggs on the stovetop for everyone, with a smaller pan on the side that contained eggs with cheese. By the time the toast was popping out of the toaster oven, everyone had come alive with growling stomachs.

JJ and Pope had dug right in, surprised but also very wonderfully pleased by the first home cooked meal they’d had in a while. Kie had given her a big hug first, requesting that (Y/N) wake her up next time to lend her a hand. But even as John B was served his favorite eggs with cheese for just him, he gave them the tiniest nibble, before pushing his plate away.

“Not hungry,” he shrugged moving on to a refreshing morning shower instead with even as much as a sympathetic glance back.

Kie and Pope were lost in conversation, but JJ had been a witness to it all. More than anything, he noticed the way her entire demeanor deflated as John B stalked off. The excited glint in her eyes was extinguished in haste. The crinkles at the corner of her eyes vanished alongside her smile. His heart squeezed at the sight. JJ had wanted nothing more than to scoop her up in his arms and pepper her with millions of soft, thankful kisses. Nothing she could’ve done would’ve been enough for JJ to evoke the same reaction out of her if she was his.

That afternoon, however, is when things took a completely opposite direction.

Energized by their hearty breakfast, they all decided it was a perfect sunny day to do some fishing and swimming. Kie and Pope had canonballed into the clear blue water when it happened. JJ was grabbing a beer from the cooler as (Y/N) sat next to John B who was laying on a towel, perched at the front of the boat.

She had leaned down to speak something privately into his ear. Except he shook his head, face devoid of any emotion. “You’ve been a bad girl (Y/N). You don’t deserve any attention,” his hushed dismissal was the only thing JJ managed to catch. The pout on her plump lips and furrowed eyebrows told JJ everything he needed to know. The gears clicked together in his head almost too quickly.

(Y/N), out of all people, had a praise kink that John B was currently exploiting.

The realization went straight to his crotch, his swimming trunks horribly constricting for the entire day. It made so much sense. She aimed to please, getting so excited when someone was happy with something she did. He honestly felt foolish for not catching on sooner. If someone asked JJ if he jacked off to her sweet voice begging him to destroy her in his imagination, he would immediately deny it.

By Wednesday, JJ was hooked.

There was no conversation that could capture his focus for long. Every moment of his time was devoted to her. The urges JJ had to rush to her and be her new source of comfort were becoming overwhelming but so was the need to bend her over any flat surface. He was on the verge of being diagnosed as bipolar with the amount of times his mood would swing. Every disheartened expression or bite of a lip had JJ physically twitching to remedy her frustration. But anytime she’d sit on John B’s lap and search for forgiveness with gentle touches and suggestive whispers, JJ would have to excuse himself to hide the new semi he was sporting.

(Y/N) and John B cuddled together during a movie night on Thursday evening. JJ thought for a split second that (Y/N) had finally wormed her way through John B’s walls. It didn’t even make sense to him how his best friend had managed to hold out for so long when she was completely irresistible. A little part of him was curious to know what she had done that originally started this. What had angered JB enough to drag this punishment out? By the relaxed tone throughout the movie, he figured he’d never get the answer to that question. At least he’d be able to go back to regular conversations instead of consistently excusing himself to the restroom.

But of course, JJ never seems to catch a break.

Kie had disappeared from the living room at some point to sleep in the guest bedroom. Choosing a comfortable bed over morning neck pain. Pope was on the couch, mouth drooling onto the cushion that was propped under his head. JJ had been basically forced into the sleeping bag on the floor with one measly pillow. Aside from the discomfort of the wooden floor, he had managed to fall into a deep sleep. There was a sudden noise lulling him awake.

Soft, harsh pants stirred him from his dreams.

The movie was still playing on the screen, but the volume had been turned down to leave background noise. Even with the quiet chatter, JJ heard the distinct, “please John B,” that fell from (Y/N)‘s lips followed by an angry scoff. His blue eyes peeked open, just the slightest bit, only to feel like he could pass out from what was occurring on the single seat next to the couch.

(Y/N) was sitting on John B’s thigh, hips grinding down at a rapid pace to chase her end. All the while JB was focused on the screen not paying any mind to the horny girl riding him. JJ could see the wet stains on her cheeks, beads of sweat falling down her forehead. She was moving with urgency, obviously close to her orgasm.

“Can’t believe you have the audacity to beg me to touch you after what you did,” John B muttered furiously in response to her. The only crack in his hard interior that let JJ know he was affected by (Y/N)’s actions was the tight grip at her hip. His other hand was lazily holding the remote on the beige armrest to exaggerate his disinterest. “I’m sorry- I’m so sorry,” she pleaded as her hips faltered. The closer she got to her end, the haze in her mind would betray her. Slowing her movements just as she was on the verge of falling into the abyss and traitorously bringing her back.

He snicked at her, feeling her feeble attempts to get herself off on his thigh. She had wet through her panties hours ago, drenching John B’s thigh and the inner corners of hers. Her apologies were falling on deaf ears. “I’m not helping you. You’re lucky I’m even letting you cum when you’ve been such a bad girl. Sluts like you don’t deserve it.” His filthy words were what did it. Instead of being put off by them, the quickening of her pace and quiet whine that escaped her lips let JJ know that she enjoyed being degraded.

(Y/N)’s movement came to a sharp halt, thighs squeezing around John B as her orgasm washed over her in waves. Her entire body tensed up, face twisting in pleasure. Underneath the over-sized t-shirt her shoulders shook slightly. For the sake of not being caught by the others, it took all her strength to keep the noises at bay while threatening to spill over at any given moment. JJ thinks he might be the one to beg to hear those sounds next. She collapsed against him, scratching at his chest with a small cry when he grinded up against her overstimulated pussy.

JJ didn’t sleep for the rest of the night.

He found himself in the shower again hours later, fisting his cock repeatedly until he was cumming harder than he ever thought he could.

Friday night was finally the last nail hammered into his coffin.

The party was booming, every Kook, Pogue, and Touron joining together for an epic get together at the Boneyard. Alcohol was influencing the rager, people dancing around the bonfire with high spirits. They had all ridden in the Twinkie together but gradually dispersed throughout the night. Pope was trying, and failing, to flirt with a brown-haired Touron who was too drunk to understand. She was cute but clueless. Kie was dancing in the crowd with John B, enjoying the music and winding down from an eventful day at The Wreck. She was oblivious to the fact that the nonchalant guy in front of her wasn’t paying a lick of attention.

JJ was leaning against a palm tree, crushing a can of beer in his hand. He had been in a fowl mood all day, snapping at everyone over the smallest of inconveniences. He couldn’t help it, nothing he had done was able to satisfy his persistent hard-on. Any time (Y/N) was within his eyesight, even momentarily, all the blood would rush down between his legs. Every hair flip made JJ want to grab it into a ponytail and tug hard. Inches of exposed skin silently requesting to be marked by his teeth. JJ was so sexually frustrated that he was honestly considering taking some girl home tonight.

The idea was tempting as his blue irises raked through the crowd. There were some good options available. Sophie, his old friends with benefits, had been eyeing him all night. A red haired girl had flirted with him when he retrieved his second beer. Shit there was even a drunk Kook that had been throwing herself at him if push came to shove. Still, none of them were what he actually craved deep in his bones. Subconsciously, JJ found the girl he had been really after.

(Y/N) was seated on a log in front of the fire wearing a white flowy dress that ended at the middle of her thighs. It had two straps at the top that tied behind her neck. She was free of make-up, her natural features mesmerizing JJ even from a distance. Her silky hair was blowing past her shoulders in the soft night breeze.

The fire lit up her face with hues of red and orange. Her head was tilted up slightly, eyes sealed shut. She seemed distracted, mind far away from the craziness surrounding her. JJ’s head shifted to the side in curiosity as he noted the odd behavior. He watched as (Y/N) pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, biting down harshly. Her hands had a death-like grip on the wood below her. Something was clearly wrong.

A surge of worry passed by JJ, wondering if the girl was okay. This week had been rougher on her than any of the other Pogues knew. He was the only one besides John B that was aware of the inner turmoil she was experiencing. This meant, Kie, (Y/N)’s best friend and confidante wasn’t clued into this secret that JJ had unintentionally stumbled upon. There was no way she could know the girl needed somebody. Deciding that he needed to take it upon himself to check up on her, JJ’s legs moved before his brain did.

He took a couple of strides in her direction with no decipherable sentence coming to mind. JJ had to think a little more instead of acting on a whim. He found comfort for his nerves in the red hat being snugly placed on his hair backwards before finally sitting down next to her. “Hey, you okay?” JJ’s tone held more compassion than usual, opting to rip off the band aid. Their normal playful banter was replaced by genuine emotion that JJ was struggling to contain.

(Y/N) didn’t even notice him sit until his voice was bringing her back from the pleasure she was floating off into. Her eyes were dark, filled with lust as they landed on JJ’s. Now that he was actually sitting next to her, able to properly focus and analyze her behavior, the color drained from his face as he became all too aware. Her thighs were pressed together tightly, nails digging into the wood. (Y/N) was breathing heavily, vibrations from the plug John B had inserted before leaving The Chateau were teasing her. Her boyfriend held the remote to the stupid thing and he had been turning it off and on all night. Sometimes she’d be in a casual conversation and have to excuse herself because he’d purposefully turn on the highest setting. Even making her spill a little bit of beer down her chin in front of Kie.

By now, (Y/N) was desperate. She was squirming in her seat, holding back the pornographic moans this device had taken her to. After withholding sex from her the entire week and choosing to insert this new toy he had purposefully disappeared earlier to buy, she was like a rabid animal. The intensity of repeatedly being brought to the brink and then cut off had broken any sense of normalcy she had managed to maintain. The fiery passion in her eyes was undeniable. “I-I’m okay- yeah,” (Y/N) practically squeaked out, one hand moving to crumble the hem of her dress in a fist.

John B was insatiable from where he stood. Although he was well aware of the state he had led his girlfriend into, just the sight of JJ sitting next to her set him off. His hand reached into his jean pocket, clasping the cheap plastic and turning on the max speed with several clicks to the plus sign on the right. It was stupid and idiotic, but the jealousy that flared didn’t let him act clearly.

(Y/N) tried to contain a gasp as her body jumped slightly at the sudden change. She knew exactly what John B was doing. He was marking his territory in front of JJ, who by the look in his face obviously knew what was going on. Without an inkling about how JJ felt, John B was still going out of his way to prove (Y/N) was his. Making her cum inches away from his best friend.

JJ knew it. Saw her eyes roll to the back, her mouth drop open and nose scrunch up. The pleasure overcame her body. The orgasm ripped through her body after being edged for so long. Her toes curled as John B forced her to ride out her high in front of him with no mercy. She was unable to hide the twitch of her thighs. Tears from the pleasure mixed in with embarrassment. JJ was frozen, rock solid in his cargo shorts. His face gave nothing away except his acknowledgment of the situation. The words to describe the hunger he felt had yet to be invented. At the same time his outrage at John B’s intentional deed simmered over.

The tension in the air was palpable with deafening silence consuming them. There was no ounce of awkwardness with the way both of them were stuck in their heads. She swallowed hard, looking away as her bottom lip trembled. Seeing as John B had no intentions of turning it off, only lowering the setting, she chose to retreat. There was no explanation that could hide or sugarcoat the truth. (Y/N) got up muttering an unintelligible excuse before she was disappearing behind the fire with a walk of shame.

JJ’s entire body was hot with adrenaline and need. A primal need to fuck the girl into oblivion was no longer in his control. The pure desire radiating off her body had pushed JJ past the boundary of respect. John B smirking victoriously towards Kie did nothing to aid JJ, only encouraged him to follow in the path that (Y/N) had headed towards.

She had found safety next to the Twinkie, crying freely into the crease of her elbow against the window. The vibrator was still going, overstimulating her yet she knew better than to take it out without being told to. John B had gone too far, giving in to the green eyed monster that veered his head. Her body was almost clinging to the van at this point when calloused fingers ran up the back of her thigh.

The warm touch alerted her to the presence of somebody behind her. (Y/N)’s back arched slightly on instinct, finally getting what she was craving. She felt so depraved, so starved. Just a simple graze had goosebumps spreading like wildfire. “John B- please- I-I can’t anymore. Take it out,” she cried pathetically, begging for some form of release.

JJ groaned at the tone of her voice, so ready and desperate. It was taking all his willpower to not bend her over right now and ram himself inside of her. Without speaking, his hand continued to travel up her thigh painfully slow. In her daze she missed the hesitancy in the touch that would’ve been hasty and quick had it been John B. His eyes were trained on the dress that was hiking up, exposing a delicious set of red lace panties. Precum stained his boxers just from the sight. JJ grabbed a handful of her ass cheek tightly, reveling in the way she pushed her ass out to him and whined.

“I’m gonna warn you right now (Y/N). If I’m the one that takes it out, I’m going to fuck you so hard that you’re going to forget what his name is,” JJ growled into her ear, hot breath washing over her hypersensitive skin. (Y/N) recognized the voice immediately, feeling the cold rings that belonged to this particular Pogue cooling her ass through the pain of the grip. Her forehead fell onto the window, a pitiful whimper responding to JJ’s offer. It was wrong, so so wrong. But the bulge pressing into her ass had her eyes fluttering shut.

JJ’s logic had quite literally left planet Earth. The only thing on his mind was her. The fear of rejection wasn’t even present. His hand confidently found a home in the curve of her hip, squeezing it tightly as he ground his cock into her ass pushing her further against the van. They both moaned, any hesitation fully dissipating with the wind.

“Take it out- take it out JJ,” she gasped, his name sounding like heaven as it fell from her lips. His new mission was to hear her scream it. JJ moved with newfound purpose, flipping her over harshly before he crouched down. “Hold your dress up and spread your legs,” the dominant tone of JJ’s voice sent a new rush of slickness down her thighs.

This was JJ, her boyfriends best friend, pulling down her panties in one swift move and licking his lips ready to devour her. “JJ please,” she was so vocal, feeding into his own filthy nature. What really almost made him cum in his black boxers was the sight before him. Her pussy was glistening, wrapped tightly around the softly buzzing vibrator. Her clit was swollen, puckering and aching. He licked his lips, imprinting this image in his brain.

JJ grabbed onto the end of it, teasingly pulling it out of her and back in which earned him a breathless moan. Her hips pushed down against it automatically, chasing the feeling. “You’ve been such a good girl all night, taking it so well,” JJ’s words had her free hand gripping the handle to the door. Without even letting her process it, his fingers were replacing the vibrator which found solace in JJ’s back pocket.

He shoved two fingers in deep, coating them with her previous orgasm in a matter of seconds. JJ nudged every corner, hitting every spot reachable in this position. He moved with skill, determination clear in the way his lips wrapped around her nub and sucked. (Y/N)’s breath was knocked out of her lungs at the sensation. Her jaw slacks from the pleasure as the spark at the pit of her belly grows into an untamable fire. JJ moved like a man who needed this to survive. He flattened his tongue against her clit, the tip poking into the entrance where his fingers were sliding in and out with ease. Finally tasting her sweetness forced a moan to ripple through him and into her.

(Y/N)’s head fell back against the window hard enough to hurt and yet she didn’t feel it at all. All her senses were hyper focused on the man between her legs. Each flicker of his tongue would make her knees go out. She would’ve been on the ground already had it not been for JJ’s hand digging into her thigh to keep her up as well as open. A particular curve of his finger had a high pitched noise tumbling out. JJ didn’t miss a beat, continuing with a new rhythm as he memorized what made her walls clench around him.

“I-I’m gonna- JJ, fuck,” she couldn’t even finish her sentence but he knew exactly what she was going to say. Everything became blurry, her chest heaving from the change in his movements. The muscles in her thighs tense, attempting to close subconsciously but JJ refuses to let them. His fingers dig into her thigh so hard they’ll be bruises in the shape of his hand tomorrow. Her climax was rapidly approaching, knot tightening in her abdomen.

His tongue circled her relentlessly. Everything wrong with what they were doing secretly inflamed her heat. (Y/N)’s mind went hazy from the increasing thrusts of his fingers. The pleasure exploding inside of her in a gut twisting way. JJ watched her face twist from the blissful waves causing her eyes to close. The intensity made her mind go blank as a string of curses were spoken. He forced her to ride out her high by lapping up everything that landed on his tongue. He savored the taste, unforgivingly continuing until her body was shaking from the stimulation.

(Y/N) didn’t even get a break. She was unable to catch a breath with JJ’s merciless assault. Her hand moved from the door to his head, pushing the cap off in favor of grabbing his blonde hair. He finally eased up when he was satisfied, pulling his mouth away and not hesitating to lick his lips. “Taste so fucking good princess,” JJ breathed out while his fingers gradually came to a stop. She squeezed his hair, a whimper coming out. It was hard to believe this was JJ Maybank below her, eyes gleaming after eating her out alive.

He stood up, moving the hand that had left imprints to fist her loose hair and tilt her head up. “Suck it off my fingers,” he demanded. The authoritative tone left her with no option but to open her mouth. Her tongue slipped between the two fingers sucking them clean without breaking eye contact. JJ’s already darkening eyes were pitch black now, hints of blue disappearing at her eagerness.

“You like that don’t you? Sucking your cum off my fingers. Wonder how your little boyfriend would feel if he saw you right now,” JJ taunted her. Tears brimmed the edges of her eyes but her thighs moved to shut. JJ’s knee shot out before they could, grinding up against her overly sensitive mound. He was rewarded with a delicious moan that reminded him of his leaking member that was still trapped. “Say it princess. Whose gonna fuck you and make you cum a second time in a row?” The fingers that were in her mouth moved to wrap around her throat. He gave her the freedom to speak, his forehead dangerously close to hers. Their lips could meet if she moved just a little closer. The curiosity to find out what kissing him would feel like distracted her. The soft squeeze at her throat broke her out of the trance, reminding her to respond.

(Y/N) nodded for no reason, hips pushing down against JJ’s thigh to show how much she still wanted him. “You JJ. You’re gonna fuck me and make me cum again. Please- want it so bad, want your cock inside of me,” the neediness in her tone sent JJ into a frenzy. No imagination could come close to the real thing. His neck shot forward, their lips molding together in a passionate kiss. They moved in sync while JJ’s hand slid down, pulling at the strings of her dress to undo the knot in a swift move. His hand skimmed further down, kneading and squeezing every inch of her skin from her curves to her ass.

She was mewling in his mouth, every caress weakening her. It was hard to feel guilty with the way the rough pads of his fingers ran across her scorching hot skin. Her hands moved to unbutton his shorts falling prey to her desires. “Need it J,” the sincerity is what snapped him back into action.

JJ untangled their bodies to open the Twinkie, taking her hand so that she was standing in front of him and could go in first. Without saying it, he placed his palm at the center of her back. A soft push let her know to get onto all fours on the soft fabric of the seats. The van door slammed shut behind them before he was shoving his clothes off with urgency. A thought lit up like a light bulb inside his head as he finished undressing.

“If you want me to give you what needy sluts like you deserve, you need to answer my question,” JJ stated seriously as his hands tucked under the top of her dress. Now with the strap off, he was able to peel off the dress from top to bottom. The panties that had only been able to reach her mid thigh before JJ lost it, slipped off alongside the dress. Confusion settled into (Y/N)’s expression. Her right cheek was pressed into the seat, only getting a small glimpse of JJ’s face. “I’ll answer anything JJ please,” the apprehension as to what the question could be was drowned out by the throbbing between her legs. The anticipation was eating her alive and he was on an unholy plight to push every single one of her buttons.

JJ smirked devilishly while leaning down to press his bare chest against her back. His cock was standing up, solid from days of built up tension. He slid between her wet folds, earning moans from the both of them. “What did you do that made John B so mad?” He whispered into her ear before resting his forehead on the back of her head. His lips ghosted over the skin at the nape of her neck sending chills down her spine. It took a moment for her to put together what he was saying. The realization dawned on her face, unable to admit what he wanted to hear. JJ’s suspicion grew with the way her breathing stuttered.

“Doesn’t matter J, just fuck me,” she attempted to sway him away from the topic but being told to ignore it only made him more persistent. “Ah, ah,” he tsked in a disapproving tone. JJ moved his hips to continue teasing her, gradually sliding between her lips and get himself wet with all her juices. He’d move so far down that his tip would just barely nudge against her hole and then proceed to slide back. His hands disappeared around (Y/N)’s sides, grabbing hold of her breasts and massaging them roughly. His fingertips found her already hardened nipples, tugging and pulling to get his point across. “You want me to fuck your tight cunt? You’re gonna have to tell me sweet girl. Because I’ll walk away right now.”

(Y/N) whined in frustration. JJ’s attempts to make her comply worked all to well. Her heart was racing with impatience and every nerve ending was shot. She could feel just how long and big he was. It made her tighten pathetically around nothing. She wanted to cry to express the distress she was feeling. His hands played at her nipples, fogging her mind up even further. A high pitched noise waved the white flag as she gave in to his attack. The risk of JJ leaving right now outweighed the shitstorm that inevitably followed the truth. “I flirted with you Sunday night.”

JJ paused, his hope flourishing into fact. What JJ had deemed a concocted idea was in fact more than just a sexually fueled imagination.

(Y/N) walked into the kitchen, hair wet from a recent shower. Despite an exhausting day surfing at the beach, she still managed to walk with a bounce in her step and a smile on her lips. Her attitude was always contagious and distracting. “Hey J, not coming out for the movie?” she questioned, digging into the freezer. All the Pogues were camped out in the living room to watch a new movie while JJ was perched on the counter top with a beer in hand.

He ran his fingers through his hair, watching as she pulled out the last chocolate fudge bar which halted his answer. His eyebrow raised as she whirled around to him. She removed the plastic casing with no rush in the world, before wrapping her plump lips around the bar. JJ’s blue eyes trailed downwards, captivated by the way she bobbed her head up and down in such a suggestive way. Her question was long forgotten with a lick of his dry lips.

“That’s my bar,” JJ stated avoiding a comment on the affect her actions were having on him. He was also technically correct. Nobody else ate the fudge bars except for him. Although, he had been noticing that he was reaching the end of the box quicker than normal. Apparently he discovered the culprit. It was hard to actually take it seriously though, not when he could swear there was a mischievous glint in her eyes. Like she purposefully put on a show for him.

(Y/N) simply tilted her head to side biting her bottom lip. “And what are you going to do about it?” The question was innocent. Yet it sounded so risqué. Like she was tempting him to take it further than that. His muscles twitched to grab her right there. But John B clearing his throat from the kitchen entrance snapped JJ out of whatever that was.

He was too consumed by her lips, her doe eyes, the way her cheeks hollowed around the bar, all of it. JJ had barely noticed John B in that moment. The thought that he might’ve heard or seen anything didn’t even cross JJ’s mind. He just quickly got up and rushed past them to the living room. He had written the whole thing off. It was easier to convince himself that he had probably imagined the whole thing rather than feeding into a delusion where she had actually teased him.

JJ had been so right though. He had read her cues perfectly. Not only had she been flirting with him, but it was also the reason that John B was infuriated. The more he dwelled on the thought, the more his heart thumped louder. They all joked and flirted amongst themselves, John B did with Kie. It was all harmless. So John B getting mad at this moment meant he felt threatened by JJ. Like (Y/N) had given him a reason to worry.

The admission made something snap inside of JJ. A flood of emotions surged forward as the dam he had built to contain them collapsed under the strength of her honesty. He quickly removed his hands from her body to lift himself up. As promised, JJ lined himself up with her slick entrance. Any desire to see her down on her knees would have to be put on hold for next time. There was no way he could put this off any longer. He took just a second to nudge his tip passed the barrier and back to hear the starved whimper that she was unable to hold in. Finding sick pleasure in her shameless need for him. “Please JJ.” Without warning, right after she spoke, he slammed his hips forward. He forget everything except the feeling of being enveloped by velvety tight walls. A loud moan mixed in with a deep groan could be heard from outside the van. He reached deep into her like this, taking her breath away.

The grip around his cock could make him pass out. He muttered an inaudible cuss word, not giving her a second to adjust. JJ pulled out to the tip before shoving himself back inside her and repeating the motion until it grew into a consistent pace. (Y/N) was a broken record of moans and pleas. With every thrust her hips would rut back into him. The anticipation had been replaced with numbing pleasure. Her eyes couldn’t focus on a single thing, completely overwhelmed. His fingers tangled into her hair, shoving her further into the seat.

JJ used the new support to deepen and harden his pace. His hips were jolting into her and sending her forward each time. JJ was failing to hold back, milking every noise out of her sweet lips. The vibrator that was still in the pocket of his shorts that were now located on the floor began to vibrate loudly. JJ smirked viciously, digging into her hip for assistance to ram into her, admiring the way her swollen pussy swallowed his cock in between them. “Do you hear that? John B’s turning up the vibrator while you’re getting stuffed with his best friends cock,” JJ coed before his breath hitched at the tight squeeze his words evoked.

It shouldn’t have turned her on the way it did but she couldn’t help it. Her body reacted before she could. His lewd words reached kinks (Y/N) didn’t even know existed within her. She cried out as his balls slapped against her clit, shooting pangs of intense pleasure up her body. Her legs would be giving out soon, she wouldn’t be able to keep this up. Feeling (Y/N)’s end approaching, JJ fisted her hair and pulled her up against his chest with ease. “Who owns your pretty pussy now (Y/N)?” he panted, his hot breath fanning over the back of her neck at the new proximity.

(Y/N) moaned out loudly as he pounded back into her in this new position. He broke her train of thought before she even had a chance to think of a reply. The hand at her hip smoothed upward, pausing to grope her boob roughly. Her back arched in response with a sharp gasp before he finally landed on her throat. JJ squeezed, digging his fingers into her pressure point and loosening it to remind her to speak. “You JJ. JJ Maybank owns me and my pussy,” (Y/N) yelped hand moving to grip onto the seat while the other reached back into JJ’s blonde locks. JJ growled, increasing his pace when she jumped forward at a certain shift in angle.

Her eyes were glazing over as the fingers at her neck tightened. Their bodies molded together in a matching rhythm. Her hips jutted down to meet every single one of his upward strokes. JJ was using the grip on her neck to lift and slam her back into him. The filthy sounds of their bodies smacking together was the only thing heard in the foggy van. “So fucking tight,” JJ mutters, lips moving to suck a hickey into the back of her neck. Now that he had discovered how close she was with the way her body quivered in his grasp, he wrecked his way inside of her.

Knowing it was a bad idea, (Y/N)‘s head had still tilted to allow him room to mark her. She was a mess of endless mewls and echoed moans, too dazed by the way he was manhandling her. Her end was quickly building, eyes rolling as she fell back onto the curve of his shoulder. His hand left her hair to explore down the middle of her chest. He trailed a finger down her stomach before finally reaching the top of her pussy. His hand cupped her, fingers wrapping around her opening that was still engulfed by his twitching cock. He palmed at her clit, eliciting a loud cry from (Y/N).

“Beg me to make you cum like he can’t,” JJ slowed his hand to show he’d stop in a scarily calm way, making tears spill over from how hopeless she felt. At this point (Y/N) needed the sweet relief as much she needed oxygen in her lungs. “You already made me cum harder than he ever has-,” her breath caught as he dug his palm into her swollen clit at the confession, “I’m all yours JJ- please make me cum.” That was all he needed to apply just enough pressure to leave (Y/N) sputtering. Her eyes went black as the ferocity of her orgasm left her seeing stars. Her entire body writhed from the intensity. JJ groaned at the way her walls tightened around him. She was drifting into clouds of bliss while riding out her high.

It all encouraged him further to his own end. He removed his hand from her beyond sensitive clit to lay her down fully onto her stomach. JJ’s back stayed pressed against her, not slipping out in the slightest bit. With the new position, her walls clamped down on him. He couldn’t refrain from snapping his hips up to bring the unrelenting speed back to life. This time he was chasing his own end, using her warm hole to get himself off. (Y/N) was incoherent under him, utterly fucked out. “That’s it take it,” his hips lost rhythm, “take all my cum,” jerking upwards desperately. He moaned loudly into her ear, thick ropes of his cum painting her insides.

She shuddered feeling him stop as deep as he could go, his cock throbbing with every drop her clenching pussy squeezed out. They were both panting, the temperature in the van was absurdly high. His sweaty body gave out, hiding her naked one under his. She found the weight of it comforting in her post orgasmic fog. It took her a few minutes to properly come back. JJ had leaned up now, pressing electrifying open-mouthed kisses against the dips of her upper back. His hips shifted a little, earning a broken moan from the girl below him.

When he began to move, she leaned back, not wanting to end the fantasy bubble they had created. JJ shushed her with a small smack to her ass that made her jump. Both of them groaned at the sudden movement and he gripped the redden skin where his hand had just spanked. His other hand had vanished under the seat, reaching for vibrator that was still going off wildly. Her pussy spasmed in fear of the vibration inside of her again after the fucking he had just put her through. “Fuck Princess,” JJ hissed almost pinching her ass from the sensitivity.

The one act of kindness JJ had showed (Y/N), was flicking the manual switch to off on the device.

His fingers looped around the end of it, sitting up carefully.

Her ears perked up as the vibrating came to a stop. “JJ what are you doing?” (Y/N)’s shaky, fucked out voice rang through the silence. JJ felt no need to respond pulling out in one swift go. The feeling of emptiness didn’t settle because he was pumping the vibrator back into her, refusing to let any of the evidence vanish. Her muscles tightened, enduring the continued stimulation with a small puff.

“As much as I want to watch my cum drip out of your wrecked cunt..,” JJ’s voice drifted off as his blue irises dropped to the round curve of her ass. He was mesmerized by her worn out body. The marks he had left were giving in to his ego. His hand tenderly rubbed the skin down her back and squeezed at her butt. He’ll never get enough of the feeling.

“You’re gonna keep this vibrator in until John B undresses you at The Chateau. He’s gonna think he’s won, having made you cum in front of me, out of my reach. Then he’s gonna spread your bruised thighs. Shit he’ll even wonder why the vibrator could possibly be turned off. Then when he pulls it out, all of my cum is gonna drip out of his girls pussy for him.”

*****

Read Part 2 here

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed it please like, comment, or reblog💕

There will probably be 4 or 5 parts to this. If you’d like to be added to the taglist and kept up to date with this mini-series please comment below🫶🏼

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dilemmaontwolegs · 2 months

Text

Irresistible {7} || CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader, Max Verstappen x fem!reader Summary: After everything, you get a happy healthy ending. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, angst, smut, fluff. WC: 4.5k F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven

Your Playlist:

Big Girls Don’t Cry - Fergie

Pretend - Secondhand Serenade

No Right To Love You - Rhys Lewis

You Broke Me First - Tate McRae

Lose You To Love Me - Selena Gomez

The Night We Met - Lord Huron

Wicked Game - Violet Orlandi

Charles’ Playlist:

Your Call - Secondhand Serenade

The Loneliest - Mäneskin

Roses And Butterflies - Making April

Amnesia - 5sos

Miserable At Best - Mayday Parade

Love Is Gone - Slander

The Man Who Can’t Be Moved - The Script

Charles was spiralling with every mile that grew between where he was and where you were. The only updates he had from you were in the form of photos on Instagram and his concentration went into waiting for your next post instead of the preparation for the final free practice of the day. He had sent you enough unanswered messages to know you were ignoring him and it hurt more than he dared let on.

“She’s not home yet,” he said as he caught up to Max in the paddock. It was half a question and half a statement, but he needed some sort of confirmation.

“I know.” Of course Max knew. You kept in touch with him, sending him sporadic messages when you stopped to take in the beautiful countryside on the quiet roads. It should have been a four hour drive but you were content to make it last the day so you didn’t have to think about what you had left behind.

Max looked like he was going to say something else but he closed his lips as an arm curled around Charles’ waist. Whatever information he was going to offer was replaced with a simple, “I’ll see you later.”

Charles turned to Charlotte and his eyebrows pulled together in confusion. “I thought you left.”

“Because we had one little fight?”

“I would hardly call it little.”

“Whatever,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “Anyway, now that Y/N’s gone things will be so much easier between us. We can get back to how we used to be. We are good for each other, Charles.”

Charles briefly entertained the idea of pushing her away but then he remembered how lonely it was sleeping by himself. It was completely stupid to even think the relationship could go back to how it was but he was selfish, if he couldn’t have you then settling for her was going to be the next best thing.

“How about we talk after practice?” His voice was full of defeat and Charlotte knew she had already won as she kissed his cheek and let him go.

“I’ll wait in your garage.”

He faked a smile and headed after Max.

The air was stale when you stepped into the apartment, not bothering to turn on the lights as you dragged yourself down the hall and into your room. Charles’ bedroom door was still half open, the bed unmade and clothes spilling out of his drawers, sending a pang of hurt to your chest before you pulled it shut. You collapsed face first on your bed and just managed to send a message to Max letting him know you arrived safely before you let your emotional exhaustion take you under. You didn't bother to text Charles, he was probably busy anyway.

Dawn came with all the same enthusiasm that you woke with. The skyline was a watery grey and even the birds failed to raise any sort of trill with their woeful calls down on the mariner. Dew clung in the air and on your cheeks as you opened the balcony door and chased away the stale air from being closed up for weeks since the last visit.

Your memory here before the lockdown began didn’t hold a lot of details but you did remember the aroma of coffee drifting up from the cafe below the building. Unfortunately there was only the tang of salt and storm on the air as you inhaled deeply before making the call that was long overdue.

As expected your father answered straight away, the confusion clear in his voice as he realised that his little night owl was up at dawn. “Hey kiddo, is everything okay?”

“Can we have a donut day?”

You could already hear him moving around the house and he must have covered the microphone as he said a muffled goodbye to a sleepy Pascale. “On my way.”

Donut day was created the day you got your first period. As a panicking solo dad he had rushed to the supermarket for supplies, but he left with mostly donuts and other treats. Thankfully Betty was better prepared and soon arrived with everything you needed, along with calm instructions on how to use them. After that, any day that was absolutely terrible was called a donut day. You and your father would sit on the couch and scoff down a box of donuts until the comfort food worked its magic.

You paced the living room until the doorbell rang and practically tore it off the hinges in your haste. You really hadn’t noticed just how lacklustre months of video calls were until you threw your arms around your dad and buried your face in his shirt. Video calls couldn’t capture the smell of his aftershave or the feel of his beard when he kissed your forehead like you were still a little kid.

“I missed you too, pumpkin.” He pulled back to look at your face and his brows pinched together. “Rough night?”

You snorted a laugh but it cracked in your chest and your head fell down. “The last time you asked me that was in Monaco too.”

“I remember. Is this about a boy?”

You nodded and took a seat on the couch while he pensively watched from where he stood. “Will you sit down? You’re making me nervous.”

He huffed and went to the kitchen instead, grabbing a plate and emptying a bag of pastries onto it. “This is the closest to donuts I could find, sorry.”

“It’s okay, it’s not about the donuts.” You picked at a pain au chocolat while he took a seat and grabbed a pain au raisin. “I…”

You didn’t know where to begin or what to say, you just knew you had to get the truth off your chest so you could try to move on. Maybe by admitting the mistake you made, it might somehow ease the guilt you were carrying.

“A boy, right?”

“Yeah,” you murmured. “The same one actually.”

His eyebrows shot up his forehead.“From when we visited?”

“The very same.” You swallowed but the pastry seemed to coat your throat and you nearly choked before you abandoned it. “It was Charles.”

“Oh,” he said with a nod before it seemed to connect and his eyes widened. “Oh…well…shit..”

“I should have said something sooner but I didn’t want to make things awkward for you and Pascale but I…I really fucked up, dad.”

You could practically see his thoughts crossing his face as he remembered how you had called him the first day, asking to stay anywhere else. A heavy sigh fell and he seemed to deflate into the couch cushions. “I thought you were with Max?”

Your eyes narrowed but you didn’t deny it. “How do you know that?”

“Charlotte posted a picture of you and him the other night.”

“That bitch is a-”

“Uh-uh, no,” he tutted. “Correct me if I am wrong but I am going to assume you and Charles have been more than just friends…”

Your silence was damning.

“I don’t think you have the moral high ground to go around calling her a bitch then. I raised you better than that. Does Max know about Charles?”

“Max knows everything,” you admitted quietly, still feeling the sting of the reprimand. “He’s good for me.”

“Okay, so then what’s the problem?”

“I just really thought it was a chance - with Charles. We made plans, a future, I could see it.” Now all you saw was the note on the table and how he chased after Charlotte. “It was stupid and naive and I feel so embarrassed.”

“Love makes everyone stupid at some point.” Your father sighed again before wrapping his arm around you. “So Max huh? You know he’s got a bit of a reputation. Bit of a hot head.”

You wiped away the tears that had been building and scoffed. “Don’t believe everything you see in the media. They portray Charles as this wholesome boy next door and Max as an angry man child. Both are wrong.”

You grabbed the pastry and ate it, this time able to stomach the idea of food, before grabbing another. It wasn’t as sweet as a donut but the sugar from the chocolate was starting to hit your blood and perk you up.

“I can’t live here anymore. Not Monaco,” you corrected when you saw his eyes widen. “Just here, with Charles. I need somewhere away from him.”

You didn’t know the exact reason why your mother left but you thought maybe she felt like this, maybe it was healthier to leave than to stay.

“The house isn’t finished but the kitchen and your bathroom are done, so it’s livable. You’ll need some moving boxes. A lot by the looks,” your father said as he stood up and looked around the room to see your belongings strewn across the place. “I’ll be back soon.”

“You’re not going to give me a lecture?” you asked as he made his way to the door.

He scanned your features that reminded him so much of your mother. “You look like you’ve learned your lesson to me. Do you need one?”

You shook your head meekly and he nodded to himself. “I’ll be back with some boxes soon.”

“Hello, handsome,” you greeted Max as soon as the video connected. He had just returned to his hotel after qualifying and securing the 5th starting place on the grid. “I’ve found a new hobby, painting.”

His smile brightened at your mood that had dramatically lifted in the past 24 hours and you showed him around your new bedroom. Paint bottles lined a sheet-covered table and dirty brushes sat in a murky jar of water, but you panned across the wall to show him the artwork you had made.

“What is it?” he asked with a forehead crumpled in confusion. He tilted his head trying to see from a different angle but he still couldn’t process the splatterings - it reminded him of a Rorschach test, one he was doing badly at.

“I didn’t say I was good,” you clarified with a laugh as you also tried to interpret the design that was no longer just on the walls. It was a good thing the carpet hadn’t been laid yet. You had tried to push the hair out of your face and smeared paint across your cheek and it had ended up everywhere by the time you were finished. “It is a mess just like me.”

“You're not a mess, schat,” Max said as he sat at the end of his bed and fell back to watch the tour of the rest of the house. “Are you okay there on your own?”

“It’s certainly quieter than the paddock, that will take a bit of getting used to, but I don’t mind it too much.” You did miss the other friends you had made at Ferrari, but felt it was best to give everyone in red a wide berth for a while. You had seen how poorly Charles qualified and knew he wasn’t at his best partly because of you. You still hadn’t been able to answer his calls or texts.

“Well, you could come back, if you want, you’ll always be welcome at Red Bull.”

“If you miss me, you can just say that,” you teased and he sat up.

He combed a hand through his damp hair and you bit your lip remembering how it felt to be the one doing that. “I do miss you,” he admitted seriously. “That’s why I’m coming back first thing Monday morning - I owe you breakfast.”

“You know there are no cafes open?”

Max smirked and the sight made your heart skip a beat. “Who said anything about a cafe?”

You wanted to know what his plans were but there was a knock at his door and Daniel’s voice reached you through the phone. Max was tempted to let Daniel continue pounding on the door but you both knew he wouldn’t leave quietly and Max groaned at that truth. “Go answer that, I’ll call you in the morning.”

Max dragged his feet as he padded across the room. “I would rather talk to you.”

“Me too.”

“Finish the phone sex already, you pervs,” Daniel shouted through the door before Max ripped it open.

“Oh, oh, yes, Max, don’t stop,” you called out, turning Max’s ears pink as he rushed to turn the phone around and show Daniel the screen and just how fully clothed you were. “Sorry to disappoint you, Danny, no phone sex - this time.”

It was only when Daniel bent over laughing that you saw he wasn’t alone. Charles was out in the hallway with Carlos and Lando, his eyes falling to the carpet when you noticed him.

“We’re getting dinner, you wanna come?” Daniel asked, and thankfully the phone rotated back to Max who looked a little torn at the offer.

“He does,” you answered for him before he could decline just to talk with you a little while longer.

“I’ll call you in the morning, schat.”

“Okay, have fun.”

Charles found nothing to celebrate when the race ended so he made his way home before the rest of the crew even realised it. He thought his weekend couldn’t get any worse after he DNF’d. The only silver lining was that despite his better qualifying, Max had also failed to finish the race. But he still won where it really mattered when it came to you.

Charles pulled into the apartment complex and saw a new sleek black Mercedes AMG parked in one of his many reserved spaces and hope fluttered in his chest. He grabbed his suitcase and darted up the stairwell to his apartment, nearly snapping the key in his haste to unlock the door. That hope turned to ash when he found it eerily silent and every inch of the place perfectly tidy. It was unlived.

The artwork you had purchased still hung on the walls and the shaggy rug he had made love to you on still covered the floor, but the spirit of it all was gone. The colours of the paintings were drained and the temperature controlled air was no longer comfortable. He didn’t even need to go to your room and check, he knew you were gone.

He knew you were gone the moment he saw you on the video call to Max. He had gone with his mother to her new house enough times to know what it looked like, even if it appeared that a rainbow vomited all over the walls. The truth just hadn’t really settled in until he stepped across the threshold and into the house that was once a home.

You had tidied the place as if you were cleaning a crime scene and needed to scrub away all evidence of being there except you couldn’t get it all. You still remained in the pantry cupboards where everything was labelled in your handwriting. You still remained in the linen closet where you folded the sheets and the towels into perfect rectangles. You still remained in the scented candles that sat on the centrepiece of the table.

Charles’ eyes stung as they lingered on the table where the keys to the apartment and the Mercedes sat, right next to his credit card and the picture you kept in your wallet.

Kicking the door closed, he abandoned his suitcase and rushed down the hall. His heart hammered knowing what he would find but he had to check as he pushed open your bedroom door. No, it wasn’t your bedroom anymore, it was a guest room.

The feminine floral duvet his mother had chosen was gone, replaced with a plain white coverlet, and the windows were latched slightly open so whatever scent of yours he may have been able to save had already been cast away to the breeze.

“Fuck!” he screamed as he punched his fist into the mattress. “Fuuuuucckk!!!”

Max must have left before Pierre had finished partying after his shock win. It wasn’t even morning really as the sun was still cresting over the hills, and it was far earlier than you were expecting him. You thought perhaps you were dreaming when you woke to a knock and opened the door to find Max on your front steps.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” you asked as you pulled him inside and inspected the bags under his eyes.

“I’m better now,” he said as he wrapped his arms around you and buried his face in your hair. “I told you I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” you murmured into his chest before pulling away so you could look into his eyes. “You need to sleep.”

“I’ll be fine, I have plans first.”

“Your plans can wait.” You took his hand and led him through the house to your room that overlooked the mariner. Your blankets were still warm as you nestled under the covers and patted the empty space beside you. “You’re not going to be comfortable in jeans.”

“Five minutes and you’re already trying to get me naked,” he teased as he pulled his shirt over his head before he unbuttoned his jeans.

“I never said naked,” you pointed out. The air froze in your lungs as he pushed them down his muscular thighs and you swallowed at the sight before.

“I’m not wearing boxers.”

“No, you certainly are not.” Your tongue rolled across your lips as you drank in every inch of him, the idea of sleep quickly departing your mind. Almost everything departed your mind, except want. “I think I am overdressed.”

“You make a habit of that.”

“I do, don’t I. Maybe you should come help me fix that.”

Max didn’t need to be told twice, he had been waiting for this moment since he had the memory of how your body felt against his. He pulled the covers back and knelt between your legs, his hands roaming up your body and under the baggy shirt of a band he didn’t know. The morning air was cool on your skin as you lifted your arms and he discarded the shirt over the side of the bed.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured as he traced his lips over your racing pulse. A fiery trail of goosebumps remained where his kiss had been and he made his way to your lips before stealing the very breath from your lungs.

Your own hands went roaming, feeling his muscles tense beneath your touch until you reached his proud erection. He shuddered above you and moaned into your mouth before he pulled back. “I need you,” you begged, unabashedly. “Please, Max.”

His hands reached for your panties and the lace tickled as he dragged them down your legs. Even with your begging, he didn’t immediately bury himself in you. He took his time, settling back between your legs. He gently massaged your inner thighs with his strong hands, his thumbs dancing teasingly close to your core until a strangled whine escaped you.

“Relax, schat,” he said softly. “I’ll take care of you.”

He shifted onto his stomach and dipped his head to your core. You lost the ability to think as he gripped your hips and tugged you right onto his open mouth. A wordless cry filled the room and it took a second to understand it was coming from you as you lost yourself in the pleasure Max was giving you. You knew Max had an internal drive to succeed at everything he did and this was no different. He was determined to taste you completely and drive you into oblivion with his tongue and his fingers before he thoroughly fucked you.

Max looked wild and untamed as you came undone around his fingers and he savoured the taste of you on his tongue as he rose above you. His eyes were dark and his lips swollen, his chin was damp and his smile satisfied.

“Hi,” he chuckled with amusement. “Feeling alright?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed, because correlating a conscious thought into words seemed impossible as your body still trembled with aftershocks.

“Would you like a break?”

You reached between your bodies and wrapped your hand around his cock, guiding him closer to your entrance. “No, I want you, Max.”

“Completely sober, right?” he confirmed as the head pressed to your wet core.

“Not quite,” you teased, his brows pinching together at the words, “I’m drunk on you.”

The relief in his eyes was palpable and you cradled his face in your palm as you wrapped your legs around his hips. Your bodies united torturously slowly and your eyes fluttered at the fullness when every delicious inch was seated inside, your lips parting with a heady sigh.

“Open your eyes, schat.”

You obeyed in an instant, watching him watch you before his eyes drifted down your bodies. His lip was pinched between his teeth and he groaned at the sight of your pussy taking him so well, something he made sure to tell you.

“Fuck,” you choked as his words made your cunt clench in response, each thrust burying him deep in your cunt until stars dotted your vision and you were tipped over the edge into another orgasm. “Fuuuckk…”

Six months later. “Babe, have you seen my shoes?” Your voice carried throughout the large penthouse apartment you had moved into with Max when the season ended.

“Here, with your dress,” he called out from the living room.

You followed his voice and found the luggage being neatly stacked by the door. He pointed to the two garment bags hanging from the coat rack and at the bottom of the longer one were your heels, next to his polished dress shoes.

“I packed your coat too,” Max said, kissing your temple as he passed to get the car keys.

With the COVID restrictions being lifted Pascale hadn’t wanted to wait a minute longer for the wedding, so winter nuptials in February was the go. At least they were taking place in Sicily so it would be a little warmer, but of course Max would think to pack a coat for when the temperatures dropped at night. He was always thoughtful like that.

“Did you want a coffee?” you asked as you turned on the machine and put your travel mug under it. It was only a three hour flight on Max’s private jet, but you hadn’t slept well with the knowledge you would see Charles for the first time since Christmas.

Cordial is how you would describe that relationship. The familiarity and intimacy was gone, replaced with standoffish politeness. You were both trying to find where the line could be drawn on a platonic friendship that had the history of more and it was slow going. You didn’t want anything you said or did around him to be misconstrued.

Max made you happy, and just as importantly, Max was healthy for you. You did sometimes wonder if he tried harder to be better because he had witnessed toxic relationships growing up. He knew how that toxicity could poison and break someone so there was a conscious effort in the way he spoke and acted to everyone around him. Even Charles.

That was why he had offered his plane for everyone to use, including Charles and Charlotte. For better or for worse, Charles was going to be a part of your family in less than 24 hours and Max respected that. Like he said, he didn’t care about your past and your future was one with him.

“Schatje,” Max called, one hand on your waist, the other reaching past you to the overflowing mug in the coffee machine. “Everything alright?”

You came back to the present with a few blinks and turned in his arms, surprising him with a deep kiss as you fisted his shirt and pulled him closer. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He pulled back to see your face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you said with a shake of your head but he saw right through it. “Everything you’ve done for me…a simple ‘I love you’ just doesn’t seem enough. I can never say it enough.”

Max’s hands cradled your jaw and he dipped his head to indulge in a slow but thorough kiss that had your stomach clenching with a fresh wave of desire. When he pulled back this time he smiled as he found the clear want and need for him written on your face. “It’s enough for me.”

He turned the machine off and poured the ruined coffee down the sink. “I’ll get you a proper coffee on the way to the airport. We should get going, can’t have the best woman be late for the rehearsal.”

“I think dad settled on the term groomsmaid,” you corrected with a laugh. You had nearly cried when he asked you to be his best man, before accepting the honour. It was fitting considering the bridesmaids were Pascale’s sons. “It’s not too late if you want to be a flower girl?”

He grinned and his eyes flicked to the door where the dress you had paraded for him last night hung. “I’m quite happy to sit back and watch.”

“If I recall, you didn’t sit still for long. I hope you have more self restraint for the ceremony.”

“For the ceremony, yes. But as soon as we hit the hotel room you’re mine and that dress will be on the floor, I promise you.”

You bit your lip at the promise, knowing he would keep it just like every other one he had made.

“We should probably go before I do something that makes us very late,” Max groaned, stepping away from your tempting body.

“Ugh, fine.”

The ceremony was more than just a wedding and it represented the joining of the Leclerc’s and the Y/LN’s, something that had surprised you and also made you grateful for having waterproof mascara. You didn’t dare look at Charles when the celebrant spoke about the union of the two families, but Arthur grinned and Enzo winked, your father narrowed his eyes and you laughed.

The celebrant, thankfully, didn’t understand.

The cashmere coat Max had packed hung over the bag of your chair as night fell and you danced with him under the open stars. The only light came from the fairy lights strung around the stone pillars that had survived centuries on the island. His arms kept you warm as you swayed to the music and you spoke quietly to each other in a world of your own.

“Hey, can I, uh, can I cut in?” Charles asked hesitantly.

You took a deep breath as you debated the question, your eyes glancing around and quickly finding Charlotte at a table with Arthur and his girlfriend. You looked at Max to see if it was okay. He just smiled and kissed your cheek, whispering, “I’ll get us a drink.”

Charles waited until Max had made it off the dance floor before offering his hand, the other coming to rest on your waist. The first step was tentative, like he wasn’t sure you were actually going to follow his lead. “You look happy,” he said after a few more steps.

“I am.”

He nodded to himself, looking at Charlotte. “Good. That’s good.”

He looked miserable. “I hope you find real happiness one day.” You were being honest.

“I had it.” And he was being honest too. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I ever really apologised, not properly.”

“It’s fine, if it wasn’t for you I wouldn’t have met Max.”

“It was meant to be us, though, right?” His eyes were begging you to agree with him but you had spent sleepless nights poring over the very same question.

“I think our paths crossed to make sure our parents met,” you admitted, smiling at the newlyweds as they danced too. You had never seen your dad happier.

“You really believe that?”

The song came to an end and you found Max returning from the bar with two drinks in his hand. “I have to,” you said as you slipped out of Charles’ arms. You swallowed the lump in your throat and took a step away from him.

“Why?” He took a step closer, only stopping when you took another step back and held up your hand. “Why?”

You took a calming breath and steadied your voice. “Because the alternative would only break my heart again.”

#max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #max verstappen smut #f1 smut

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auggieblogs · 7 months

Text

heartbreak girl | MV1 (pt.1)

part II

Summary: "I've loved you since we were kids, y/n, ever since I saw you at your 4th birthday party. I told my ma I was going to marry you someday."

Pairings: Max Verstappen x fem!reader

Warnings: language, mention of alcohol (and throwing up because of it)

Author's note: Heyyyy, hiii, lovelies. I hope you all are doing good!!! This fic is heavily inspired by "heartbreak girl" by 5sos, thank you to @navia3000 for requesting this (and thank you for LITERALLY breaking down the song for me😭🫶🏻). I know it's not completely based off the song but I tried my best. Anyways, happy reading, everyone<3

P.S.- This is definitely not my best work but I tried okay??? I really hope y'all like it and hopefully there will be a part 2.

―୨୧⋆ ˚masterlist

One thing you should know about Max Verstappen is that he harboured an intense loathing for one person in the world: Connor Smith, your now-ex-boyfriend. Max despised Connor with every fibre of his being. Connor was, in Max's eyes, a complete fuckwit, a lousy boyfriend who had repeatedly let you down. He never made time for you, often left your texts unanswered for hours, and failed to treat you the way you deserved. To make matters worse, he disrespected you, and that ignited something in Max, a desire to punch Connor's face every time he laid eyes on him, perhaps?

On the other side of the emotional spectrum, Max was head over heels in love with you. He was a silent, lovesick puppy, adoring everything about you – your infectious smile, your contagious laughter, your passion for music, and all those little quirks that made you uniquely you. Yet, despite these profound feelings, Max was too much of a pussy to confess any of this to you. His fear held him back, and it was the reason he watched you date Connor, even when he knew you deserved so much better.

But life has a way of unravelling complicated emotions. Connor eventually broke your heart. The pain was excruciating, the emotions raw and overwhelming.

Devastated, you found yourself in a mess, sprawled on your bathroom floor with a bottle of vodka in your trembling hand. Your face was flushed, your eyes bloodshot, and you felt like your world had collapsed.

Max's heart shattered into pieces as he saw you in such a fragile state. Without hesitation, he sank to the floor beside you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close to his chest. You cried uncontrollably, sobs wracking your body, and your breathing was ragged. Max's heart ached as he cradled your head, whispering soothing words to calm you.

Eventually, when your sobs ebbed to quiet sniffles, you looked up at Max. His face was etched with concern, but you hated that. You didn't want to be a burden to him. "He left" you whispered, tears welling up in your eyes once more.

"I figured," Max replied softly.

"I'm not the type of person who cries over a boy," you said, tears pricking your eyes again.

Max gently brushed away your tears, his touch comforting. "No, you're not," he said, still holding you close. You felt like throwing up, physically ill from the pain of your breakup. You had loved Connor, despite his flaws, and he had occasionally made you feel loved which only made you feel more confused and lost.

Unable to hold back any longer, you threw up, and Max was right there to help. He rubbed your back and held your hair, comforting you as a best friend would.

"Okay, shh, that's it," he said gently as you emptied your stomach. Afterward, he helped you off the floor, guided you to the sink, helped you brush your teeth, and washed your face. Max even braided your hair and performed your skincare routine for you.

Going to your wardrobe, he selected the comfiest pair of pyjamas and helped you change into them. Max knew he couldn't take away your pain, but he was determined to provide you with some distraction. After cleaning up, the two of you settled in to watch a movie in your bedroom. Max sat on the floor, close to the TV, and you were cozily nestled in bed.

Max still hadn't asked you about Connor because he knew you well enough to know that you would eventually talk about it. And you did.

Hours passed, and you finally mustered the strength to crawl over to Max and rest your head on his thighs. He looked down at you, a warm smile on his face.

"I'm really sorry," you said, your voice still trembling.

"For what?" he asked, genuinely puzzled by your apology.

"For being such a mess," you admitted, tears glistening in your eyes. "I know you had better things to do today. You shouldn't have to take care of me."

Max leaned down, brushing a gentle kiss against your forehead. "I want to take care of you," he said softly. "You needed me, and I'll always be here for you. You'd do the same for me."

A brief smile graced your lips, but it quickly faded as you voiced your deepest insecurity, "Do you think the reason he left me is because I'm not pretty enough?"

Max's heart clenched at your words, the overwhelming urge to kiss you and hold your face in his hands almost unbearable. But he knew this wasn't the right time, not when you were so emotionally vulnerable. He had to be strong for you.

"He left because he's an idiot, and he doesn't deserve you, y/n," Max said, his tone firm and unwavering. "Looks have nothing to do with it. You're beautiful, inside and out."

Tears welled in your eyes as his words washed over you. "He's the only one who's ever loved me. I've never had a boy like me, Max."

Max's heart ached for you, and for a moment, he allowed himself to stroke your hair gently. "You've always been loved," he whispered, his voice carrying the weight of years of unspoken emotion. "I've loved you since we were kids, y/n, ever since I saw you at your 4th birthday party. I told my ma I was going to marry you someday."

Max's confession hung in the air, a palpable tension that enveloped both of you. Your heart pounded in your chest as you stared into his eyes, the weight of his words sinking in. The room seemed to close in around you, and the tears welled up in your eyes as you whispered, "Max..."

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martiniblues · 4 months

Text

she looks so perfect ; ellie williams

pairing gf!ellie x fem!reader

synopsis ellie comes back from a late night patrol to be greeted by you already waiting for her. luckily for her, you happen to be in a pair of her boxers.

genre so so much fluff because i’m sick and twisted, kinda suggestive but nothing explicit, mentions of food.

wc 0.8k

note this is inspired by she looks so perfect by 5SOS (aka the best song ever)

“ellie?” your voice waltzed into her ears as she stepped into your place. kicking off her beaten-up converse, smelling the sweet smell of pancakes wafting through the air.

“yeah, it’s me!” her mood instantly peaked at the sound of your voice and the soft music you decided to play as you cooked.

ellie tiptoed down the hall, wanting to observe you before you noticed her. you always called her a "creep" jokingly, of course, but she just loved watching you live in your own little world.

whether it was when you were so caught up in the book you were reading that your face would shift into the silliest expressions or when you danced softly with yourself as you got ready for the day, ellie loved it more than anything.

like right now, you stood in the center of your kitchen, mixing bowl in hand, swaying and humming along with the song that played from your phone. an oversized band tee hung loosely off your shoulder while a pair of red checkered boxers hugged your hips.

she recognized them immediately; they were the same ones she wore a few nights ago. she wondered where they had gone, but now her question was answered.

as you turned with the music, you caught sight of ellie leaning against the door frame, smirking with her arms crossed. “jesus, els you almost gave me a heart attack!” you clutched the bowl to your chest in fright. “we literally spoke thirty seconds ago,” she argued, walking behind you to wrap her arms around your waist and bury her face in your neck.

“mmmmm” she mumbled something you couldn't quite understand, feeling her lips move against your skin with each undefinable word. her cold hands ran over and under your shirt, outlining each and every curve and dip of your body. you continued swaying with the music silently, not trying to pry her into talking about her outing. you knew by the time breakfast was done, ellie would talk your ear off about the “stupid shit” jessie did or the “motherfuckers” she killed.

while one arm wrapped around your stomach and laid its palm to your side, ellie’s other hand traveled lower and closer to your hip. “and when did you get these? they look oddly familiar,” her thumb looped under the elastic band and pulled so the fabric would lightly snap against your skin, teasingly.

you flushed instantly at her words and raunchy actions. “they should be familiar since they're yours, els” you smiled. you and ellie always wore each other's clothes, an unspoken vow that the two of you were always together, even if it meant not physically.

ellie continued running her blunt nails against the fabric, dipping her curious fingers underneath the bottom to grab your ass or travel along the lace of your underwear.

“els, these are gonna burn if you keep distracting me,” you scolded her, turning around and pulling her hands off your body. “go sit, and i’ll bring you some in a sec." you punctuated your request with a kiss to her freckled cheek. in reply, she just huffed and sulked away like a grumpy child. it wasn’t a shock to you, ellie was always grumpy before the afternoon.

you plated the food for both you and ellie and practically skipped on your way to the table. you placed ellie’s plate in front of her while she played some games on her phone. before sitting, you kissed the top of her head and ruffled her auburn hair, which finally made her peel her eyes away from the game and notice the food ahead of her. “hey…” she whined, but still smiled as you sat beside her. before you could get settled, ellie reached out, grabbing your smooth calves with her rough hands to lay your legs across her thighs.

“missed me, huh?” you tilted your head at her clinginess. its not that ellie was never clingy, but typically, when she came back from a late night out, she wanted to do nothing but sleep.

“of course i missed you, my pretty girl.” she continued to stuff her mouth, rubbing your leg with her free hand.

“plus, if i would have known you’d be in this, i would have ran home.” she eyed you to emphasize her boxers, which rolled up higher on your thighs. “maybe i should just steal all your boxers, huh?” you leaned closer to her, completely disregarding the half-eaten pancake drowning in syrup on your plate.

“that sounds good,” she whispered even in the private walls of your place, grabbing your face and pulling her lips against yours. her soft strands of hair, which fell from the small knot at the back of her head, tickled your cheeks. a bloom of warmth sprouting in your chest at the feeling of her lips on yours.

ellie could be gone for an hour and when she came back, she would kiss you as if she had gone off to war for months.

you reached up to run your hands through the hair she left down that barely touched her shoulders, making her sigh contently. she pulled your chair closer to her, not breaking apart once.

before you could pounce on her, she pulled back with wide eyes. “what is it?” you grabbed her face, trying to figure out what had gotten her so bewildered. she grabbed your hand firmly and pulled it down to rest on your knee, which still lay across hers.

“i just remembered the stupidest fucking thing jessie did yesterday,” she laughed before beginning her tangent.

note this might be too niche but modern!ellie would DEFINITELY listen to 5SOS like i know she loves michael’s hair and is a sounds good feels good enthusiast!!!! she would totally learn songs on her guitar LIKEEE DO YOU SEE MY VISION!!!

#wlw scenarios #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams au #ellie williams x reader #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie the last of us #ellie williams #ellie williams fic #ellie williams x you #sapphic #lesbian

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thatsdemko · 1 year

Text

love affair- a.leclerc & c.leclerc

masterlist

requested: n

pairings: Arthur leclerc x gasly!fem!reader & Charles leclerc x gasly!fem!reader

warnings: nsfw + not intended for minors + mentions of nudity + mentions of oral (f receiving)

a/n: mwahahaha I love creating chaos 😌 also the lyrics are from 5sos! I am well aware none of these men(and the beautiful y/n) are not English! it’s just part of the lyrics! this has zero to do with my previous Arthur x gasly!reader fic! feedback is always appreciated xx

《 the following content is not intended for minors. 》

It started on a weekend in May

I was looking for attention, needed intervention

his beautiful green eyes are glued to your body as you move across the hot sand of the beach. you begged your brother to pull over so you could take a dip, cool off, you said.

maybe it was your plan to get him to look, you were never going to say. but you felt those eyes in the passenger seat, he watched your breasts bounce up and down as you jog up to the car, the water that’s left on your tan legs glisten in the sun.

“don’t get your wet bottoms on my seats!” Pierre calls out as you dance around the hot pavement, Charles throws his jacket over the leather before you slip in.

“thank you, Charles.” you reach behind the seats pressing a friendly kiss to your brothers best friends cheek, Pierre groans trying to wipe the ends of your wet hair off the leather.

he watches you collapse against the burning black leather seats. little does he know that in exactly six hours he’d be crammed up in the back eating you out. he’d be shoving his hard cock into your swollen pussy, his hand gripping your throat while you choke his name.

Before I knew it, it was serious

Dragged me out the bar to the back seat of her car

TWELVE HOURS EARLIER

you think you’re the only one awake. you still tip toe around the creaking old floors, you’re in nothing but your brothers old alpha tauri shirt and a pair of an ex boyfriends boxers. when you make your way into the living room you half expect to see someone else awake.

“my my, is this a sight to see.” Charles smirks, chuckle escaping his lips. he’s never seen in anything other than a tight shirt and a pair of bottoms that are way too short. even when you were kids your style was far similar to what it is now.

“oh fuck off,” you mumble slipping next to him on the love seat, and he extends the blanket over into your lap. two of you now watching whatever old black and white movie was on.

“can’t sleep?” he asks, voice in a hushed tone watching your body settle into the seats, thigh quickly brushing his before you pulled away. he can’t help but feel the nervousness scatter his stomach.

“not with my brother snoring in the other room.” you roll your eyes, as much as you love Pierre, his nostrils were the death of you every time you take this summer trip.

“why don’t you sleep in my room? Arthur doesn’t snore. we can swap beds.” he suggests, and you almost laugh knowing he doesn’t want to spend his nights in your pink and white wallpapered bedroom. as much as you know he’s in touch with his feminine side, you’re sure he won’t last the night with the pink colors mocking him.

“that or we could just piss Arthur off, have Pierre sleep in your room.” you suggest and he nods. the silence and crackling of the old film are what occupies the air, it’s almost unfamiliar to you both. this room was always full of laughter and joy, you hate hearing it so dead.

“why don’t you just sleep in my bed with me?” he’s half serious, the sleep deprivation was doing most of his talking right now. when he looks you in the eyes he doesn’t expect you to say yes, but you do. now you’re wrapped in his white linen sheets and the cool breeze from his window blows into your face.

you’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t wish this was something more. part of you woke up because you knew he was down there shirtless lounging around in nothing but his tiny shorts. you’re not sure if it’s your own sleep deprivation convincing you that you needed him, but will you be thankful in twenty four hours for what god brings you.

NOW

“sleep well?” Arthur watches you nearly stumble down the stairs into the living room. you’re practically limping, it’s obvious you either hurt yourself at the club or whoever left all those hickeys on your neck left you disoriented.

“something like that.” you wave him off heading into the kitchen where the smell of bacon, eggs, and toast are coming from. your mouth is watering you’re so hungry, you almost don’t even catch your brothers glare while you scarf down two plates of food.

“do I even want to know?” he asks, fork gesturing to the purple and yellow bruises that scatter your neck. he can’t even look at you, he’s disgusted by whoever the man was that left his marking. little does he know the man is his best friend who just entered the kitchen mumbling his late good mornings.

“where were you for our run? I knocked on your door five times.” Lorenzo shoves a plate of food into his brothers chest half caring that some of the egg fell on to the floor. he’s disappointed in his younger brothers lack of motivation and discipline.

“I overslept.” Charles lies. that’s partially true, but while Lorenzo was knocking on his door at five in the morning, you were giving him a good morning treat before his run. he claims it to have been the best way to wake up, it’s why he skipped the run.

Pierre nearly chokes on his dry toast when he sees the nail marks against his friends back. they are still fresh and bright red, he’s surprised Arthur didn’t say a single thing when he walked by.

“and somebody was worried about not getting something this trip.”

“oh wow,” Arthur barely touches one of the marks on his back, it earns a hiss from Charles as he tries to swat the younger man to move along, “these are going to leave quite the mark for awhile.”

you try to hide the red hue that’s floating across your face. you’re lucky all of them are too focused on the nail marks and the details of his wild night. you didn’t expect them to be so obvious, but the acrylics were still fresh from the other day and sharper than you expected them to be.

“would you see her again?” Lorenzo asks sliding into the chair next to Pierre. the question brought you a wave of nausea, you get up instantly once he sits down. there’s no way you’ll be able to hear the truth or the lie. either way you know you crossed a line, and seeing Charles in that setting once more wasn’t an option for you.

“yeah, I would.”

—

“you don’t own a single thing that doesn’t compliment you, huh?” he takes your hand in his allowing you to twirl and show off the tight body con dress.

you shrug, sheepish smile spreading across your lips, “you like it?” you’re not sure what’s provoked you to ask, but he just nods tongue licking his bottom lip watching you saunter on over to find a pair of high heels to match.

his eyes trail after your body, it’s like he’s never seen an ass and a pair of tits as good as yours. everything about you demanded his, hell anybody’s, attention. every inch of you screamed perfection, it’s impossible for a man to look away, and right now it’s impossible for him.

“what’s on your mind, leclerc?” you bend down to pick up your black high heels and move to a chair to slide them on. he’s right at the edge of the coffee table doing it for you instead. his fingers pull the little string through the hoops, finger tips grazing your legs.

“you.” he says, watching you slide your leg off his thigh and stand up adjusting the dress down your thighs. his eyes follow your body with lust, you swear you’ve never seen a man wrapped around your finger so quickly.

you’re smiling, he’s so pure, you think to yourself, as you use your index finger to tilt his chin upwards, “I’m thinking of you too, Arthur.” you bend down, head dipping to press your lips against his. they’re sweet and soft just like he imagined them to be, he practically moans at the delicacy.

he runs his hands up and down your body, you don’t mind that they linger a little too long on your ass, you think it’s adorable how excited he is. little does he know he’d have you sucking on his swollen cock in the public restroom of the bar. you’d be on your knees listening to him moan your name and later that evening he’d be asking if he was just as good as the guy from last night.

he’d then take you to that same car, and just like his brother, his hard cock would be entering your throbbing pussy each stroke full of passion and intimacy. you could melt at how careful the leclerc’s take their sexual activities.

you can’t tell him who’s better, there’s no clear winner. but god forbid you would never tell him the man before him was his own brother.

When the lights go out, she's all I ever think about

The picture burning in my brain, kissing in the rain

I can't forget, my English love affair

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