#and he doesn’t deserve to have me thinking about him in a weird way just because I think he’s kinda cute

[littlemisstfc]

Transformers One: Is It Good Or Nah?

Hello, hola、こんにちは。So…it’s been 84 years since I’ve last written on this side of the Hundred Acre Woods. For that, I do deeply apologize for my absence aksksksjsjsj. Anyways…so the Transformers franchise, in terms of the movies, has a very shaky history.

We all know the Transformers movies; it’s pretty known by now that the movies are just a rollercoaster of quality. For every Bumblebee, there will always be a Revenge of The Fallen. When it comes to me specifically, I have a very complicated relationship with this aspect of the franchise for a better part of my life. The original G1 movie is okay. The first movie is alright, ROTF is Satan’s spawn, DOTM is good, AOE is a chaotic mess that I both hate and love, and the less said about TLK, the better. Then, a miracle happened in the form of Bumblebee (2018) and it sets the path of redemption for these movies. It continues with Rise of The Beasts and while it’s an 8/10 movie for me, it’s still a great movie that continues the momentum. Now, it brings us to today.

I wanna bring this up before talking about Transformers One because you will not believe me when I say that this movie is EVEN BETTER THAN LITERALLY EVERYTHING ELSE IN THE FILM SERIES. YES, IT OUTDID EVEN THE GREATEST TRANSFORMERS MOVIES BY A FREAKING LANDSLIDE. JUST…how did we even get a movie like this? The fact that it exists is truly the most mind boggling, yet pleasant surprise so far in the series to date. Words cannot describe the experience I have gone through at this moment. Just…what did we do to get something this incredible and this damn good. Amazing is an understatement; Transformers One is easily the best Transformers movie to date.

The way it gives us genuinely some of the best moments in Transformers history is an indicator of the majesty they wanted to make. Sure, no movie is truly perfect. However, for this one, the amount of things to discuss and think about is something that rivals even the most complex media such as Earthspark and Animated. So what am I doing here standing around for? Let's talk about a movie about two bros chilling in an Energon mine, five feet apart cause they’re not gay! :D

For this review…I’m going to give this movie’s pacing the respect it deserves (due to how crucial it is to the story) by highlighting the most important details I want to talk about in order. After we get the nitpicks and other good stuff out of the way, I’m so excited to unleash all the inner brainworks in my head at the moment. So let’s goooooo.

3, 2, 1, Pingu.

(Also, I will be going into spoilers, so Sparknotes version: it’s a rare 10/10. ✨)

The Good, The Bad, and The Badassitron

Let’s go get the nitpicks out of the way. I say nitpicks because they thankfully don’t drag down the movie for me. First things first: I wish that the main trio of Decepticons (Doritoscream, Soundwave, and Shockwave’s boobs) play a much bigger role here. I felt like how we got from Starscream in charge to now all of sudden loyal to Megatron after having the crap beaten out of him is where the movie could benefit from a few minutes more to the runtime. To me, their loyalty to Megatron by the end is something that needs to be earned. However, like I said, it didn’t bring the movie down for me because they’re not the focus here, The focus is on Megatron’s relationship with Optimus. We’ll get there when we get there. Bee’s fine for what he is, but I feel like he can be cut out of the movie and replaced with someone else. The story would be as it is, like he really doesn’t have much of a reason to be here. However, like I said, he’s fine for what he is. The only other nitpick I have is that it’s weird that the Quintessons have little to no direct involvement in the main conflict, since it’s their rule that led to this mess in the first place. However, since we’re getting two more movies, I’m curious to see how this is gonna play out in the future. Anyways, that’s all I have to say about the issues I have with the movie, so let’s get to the good stuff…EVERYTHING ELSE.

Oh my god, the music score? Easily among my favorite scores in Transformers media to date. The way it not only incorporates music from shows such as Transformers Prime so beautifully, but it gives the world so much life and majesty that is straight out of a Biblical epic. The ending song at the credits reminds me so much of On My Soul, just what an utter bop. Of course, I also need to mention the biggest highlight of this movie…the animation. Oh my god, this movie is utterly gorgeous. Not only are the settings so vibrant and brimming with life and personality, but I absolutely adore the facial expressions on the characters. I’m glad that it’s emotive enough to not fall into the Uncanny Valley, and the characters felt so real. I especially love Orion’s facial expressions, because of how well they convey his growing heartbreak and loss of innocence over the course of the story that we’ll discuss later here. Overall, the music and animation are good enough reasons why you need to see this movie on the big screen. Just…MMMMMMM. Delicious food.

The characters are also really likable and enduring. I wasn’t sure if I was gonna like Badassitron going in, but honestly, he’s a Bumblebee done well. He has plenty of funny moments and jokes, and I like how they don’t have him make quips during the more serious moments here and there. He is the comic relief done right. I’m pleasantly surprised by how they handle Elita’s character. At first, based on the promos, she seems to be the Ultra Serious Girlboss who girlbosses her way into the Elita One we all know and love. However, as it turns out, it’s revealed that she’s a neurotic, yet well meaning dork and I love that for her akskssk. I especially love how her relationship with Orion develops over time as they went to find the One Piece. She went from being irritated with his tendency to cause mischief at work and ignoring protocols to warming up to him because of his resilience and optimism (no pun intended) of their people being freed. Honestly, it’s so refreshing to see a flawed, yet likable Elita here and she’s perhaps one of my favorite iterations so far. Moving on, and oh man…where do we even begin with our good buddy Sentinel Prime. Not only is he one of the evil ass motherfuckers in the franchise so far, but he is a fantastic main villain. Just seeing this despicable bastard manipulate his way into power makes you love to hate him, he’s also pretty funny, and the way he poses a threat to our heroes provides enough interesting groundwork for the conflict between two of our main amigos. Also, shoutout to Jon Hamm. He did an excellent job at portraying Sentinel as this smug, arrogant little bitch. Just, amazing. And speaking of portrayals, the entire voice cast did an amazing job here. You can tell how much they clearly respect the characters they’re portraying while also breathing new life into them. This is what animation studios need to do; hire actors that suit the characters well DAMMIT. Other positives I have is the amount of neat cameos of our favorite blorbos in the background, the comedic timing is excellent thanks to the voice actors’ deliveries and banter with each other, and in spite of the darker tone the more it progresses, it also has a very cozy, fun feel to it due to one of the movie’s main central themes. And speaking of themes…this is where we will end the section here.

Now…I am saving the best for last. What I mean by that is that there are two characters that manage to be my favorite aspect of the movie overall. So…let’s go talk about them.

A Tale of Two Friends:

I’m struggling to use the right words to describe how I feel about Orion and Megatron. To me…they’re the true standouts in the movie for me. Their relationship is portrayed with so much care and gravity that they both felt like real people. Not only are they both likable and charming, but seeing their relationship break apart over the course of the movie is hauntingly beautiful and tragic. Trust me, it’s not the shipper speaking here. It’s so refreshing to see them together in the big screen for the first time since The Last Knight, but it’s also so interesting seeing them in a different light than what other Transformers media did. I’m starting in the order of the movie because the movie’s pacing is perfect. Every scene connects to each other perfectly and it makes room for the wild ride we’re in for.

First, let’s start with Orion.

We start the movie off with Orion breaking into the Iaconian Hall of Records and search for anything on the status of the One Piece. Then, he gets caught by some guards and a chase ensues. Right away, we get a good idea of his mischievous, yet curious personality and his determination to discover more about the surface world. He won’t take no for an answer and while it does lead to him getting in trouble often, it’s genuinely admirable to see him have the initiative to make the best of his situation in life. Then, right before he gets caught, Megatron comes in with a cart that serves as a distraction for Orion to slip away and they both head to work.

Right off the bat, we see that Megatron is the more relaxed, more cautious out of the two. He tries his best to stay out of trouble and to keep his good ol unhinged buddy alive due to his wacky shenanigans. At the same time, he also has the same kind of energy he shares with Orion in that they both keep their heads up in spite of their circumstances. Adding to the layers is Orion bringing him the Fallen sticker, which is how we get a good idea of how much they care for each other. True, they have their own frustrations with each other. Megatron is frustrated by Orion’s tendency to get in trouble, along with not recognizing his discomfort with some of the things he drags him into such as the Iacon 5000, and Orion is frustrated by Megatron keeping his head down to avoid trouble. However, they always have each other’s back and they are each other’s equals.

We also see that they’re both kindhearted people who will stand up for the little guy through risking their lives to save Jazz from the collapsing Energon mine, even though it resulted in Elita being demoted. From the start, their desire to make their world a better place is set in stone there. This is furthered strengthened by Orion standing up for Elita by flipping off Darkwing and both him and Megatron needing some milk afterwards. Also, quick side note: Orion’s sass and dynamics with the other characters is so damn refreshing. I love how he literally has no chill in speaking what’s on his mind, and I especially adore how he interacts with Elita. Pure malewife material aksksksz.

Back on track, he then drags Megatron into the Iacon 5000 so that they can prove themselves to be just as worthy as the upper class racers in the game. As they fly through the race track with mere jet packs, their fellow miners cheer for them and they were pretty close to finishing in first place had it not been for the combo of an injury Megatron got and the first place winner coming in. I’m not gonna reveal who won the race, but let me say that who won it is a pleasant surprise. Anyways, this earned the attention of Sentinel Prime and he went down to their recovery ward to personally congratulate them on their boldness in participating. He even offers them a nice ol place in his crib, which they might've accepted if Darkwing didn’t throw them down into Undertale due to his jealousy and anger. Throughout this scene, we see Orion and Megatron being validated by the Prime they’ve admired for so long for breaking out of the status quo and it lays the foundation for later on. Eventually, they met Bee, found the map to the One Piece, and ventured into the surface world while accidentally dragging Elita along for the ride. Pretty landscapes and peril later, they end up in the cave where the bodies of de Primes are at. They wake up Alpha Trion and he reveals the bitter truth:

Uh oh, it turns out Sentinel Prime is a LIAR and that he betrayed the Primes in order to be in charge of the Cybertronian population. Here…we see the innocent viewpoints of Orion and Megatron shattered permanently from here on out. While Orion reacts with anger as he should, Megatron is utterly furious with this horrific revelation. The Prime he has admired for so long, the Prime who just gave him an opportunity to move upwards just minutes ago…turns out to be a cowardly, spineless fraud that took away their autonomy to having basically a crucial organ in their bodies and to make choices for themselves. It isn’t helped by Sentinel giving up the Energon (that they risked their lives in mining for) to the very evil overlords that are responsible for their people being this way for so many generations.

What happens back in the cave is one of three excellent scenes that is borderline uncomfortable due to how realistic it is. We see Megatron essentially having a mental breakdown from finding out his life is a lie and Sentinel is a big stinker. When Orion tries to calm him down, he finally vents to him about his frustrations with Orion’s tendency to cause trouble over the years and calls him out for not thinking before acting on his impulses. It also helps that we see his patience starting to be worn thin earlier in the recovery ward and when Darkwing threw them both in the Undertale. Then, he finishes his breakdown with one simple, yet effective confession: he doesn’t want to just take Sentinel down…he wants to kill him. To say that hearing Megatron say this left me and the theater in shock is a massive understatement. It genuinely caught me off guard, but in a good way. We finally saw Megatron at his breaking point: his entire life, including being worked to death, has been for nothing. It’s a great scene because it’s an argument where you understand both perspectives here. You understand Orion’s bewilderment at Megatron’s unhinged behavior and wanting him to take a deep breath so he can clear his head while you also understand Megatron finally having enough of being a doormat for too long and Orion putting his own wants before others. Neither side is right and wrong, and I appreciate how Orion’s and Megatron’s emotions are valid here. From this point on, all hell breaks loose.

After they gain their T-cogs and the recording to cancel Sentinel on Twitter by Alpha Trion, the main amigos enjoy the euphoria of transforming for the first time. However…we see Megatron enjoying the euphoria of having the T-cog too much. After fighting off one of Sentinel’s soldiers, he forcibly takes the callout post and vows to make Sentinel pay for his crimes. When Orion tries to protest, Megatron coldly tells him to step aside or else there’ll be a problem between them. Orion’s expression here is why I love his facial expressions the most as mentioned earlier. You can see all the thoughts he’s having right now, especially the shock of seeing his best friend giving into his darker thoughts expressed back at the cave. Now, the coin is flipped. Orion is the sensible, level headed one of the two while Megatron is the impulsive, stubborn one that he always scolds Orion for being so in earlier scenes.

As they make their way back home, they ended up captured by some Decepticons and are being interrogated by Starscream and his band of mean girls. When Megatron walks away from the interrogation nonchalantly, Starscream tries to assert himself as the leader. However, it ended up breaking into a fight that quickly went HOLY FUCKING SHIT, HE NEEDS SOME MILK when Megatron overpowers him. We see a horrified Orion in the crowd and they can only look at each other. Their friendship will never be the same after that…especially now that Megatron finally got a taste of power that’s been denied to him all his life. I know that this is probably gonna be a point of contention for some people with how Megatron’s turn to the Dark Side is portrayed here, so let me provide this perspective:

How long did Megatron have these thoughts?

Given presumably how many times he had to bust Orion out of trouble, and having to keep quiet just to stay alive, you have to wonder how long he kept quiet about his frustrations and hidden rage at the circumstances of his life. From that angle, giving into his intrusive thoughts is inevitable. He just needed the push to act on them. Essentially…the poor guy needed therapy, and sadly, there are no therapists on Cybertron. 😔

Eventually, Megs and Badassitron got captured along with Starscream and several other Decepticons by Airachnid. It’s now up to Orion and Elita to team up with the remaining Decepticons left and YOU GOTTA HELP US. Here, we see Orion finally realize how badly he screwed up for not understanding how his actions affected the people he cares about over the years. It got through his head that he didn’t appreciate Megatron’s patience and willingness to protect him from the consequences. While he means well, he doesn’t realize how selfish he’s also being with the things he does in his overactive ways. Upon realizing this, he takes responsibility for the amigos being in this mess…a mess that happened because of him. That was his mistake. He is now left with no choice but to go forward and make things right by his friend and the people they love. Then…we get another one incredible scene and that is Elita’s pep talk to him.

While it starts off a bit comedic due to how this is clearly Elita’s first time with cheering someone up and Orion pointing it out, it then leads to her expressing how she always admire his optimism towards a better future for their kind and his refusal to back down in the face of struggle. It’s the embodiment of the movie’s most important message: having hope even when the odds are against you. That fact that we have such a strong theme in a turbulent era we’re in at the moment is why this scene works so well. Change starts with one person, and then becomes bigger and stronger when they continue to fight against injustice and inspire others to do the same. Thus, Elita’s pep talk gave Orion the drive to get back up and keep moving forward by teaming up with the Decepticons, go back to Iacon, and free their buddies. The theme is furthered strengthened by Orion rallying the other miners into helping him, as he now has the power to make things better for his people.

Quick side note, but Elita is an interesting foil to Megatron’s in terms of how they react to Orion’s unhinged sassy king energy. While she’s also annoyed by his tendency to get in trouble a lot, she has also admire his ability to remain optimistic even with their shitty conditions. Once he takes responsibility for his decisions, she softens up towards him and she remains his dearest friend by the end. In contrast, by the time he has apologized for his mistakes, it’s too late for Megatron. It’s clear that these two are what shaped Orion into Optimus, for better and for worst.

Meanwhile, Megatron gets tortured by Sentinel after repeatedly defying him. Then, he gets the Decepticon symbol carved painfully into his chest by the blue son of a bitch. That essentially became the straw that broke the camel’s back and it ultimately drove Megatron into a point of no return. After the other main amigos rescued the other amigos and a ROBOT FIGHT occurs, Megatron now has the opportunity to finally show Sentinel that his day of reckoning has come. Now, he must die. However, after putting the callout post on Twitter, Orion realizes what his bestie is about to do and tries to stop him. However, Megatron quickly overpowers him and prepares the final blow to Sentinel. Then…what happened next left me and the entire theater in stunned silence for a good few minutes up until one point. At first, I thought to myself:

“Ain’t no way he’s gonna do this. There’s no way they’re bold enough to have Megatron do this.”

But then…it happened. The shot from the fusion cannon meant for Sentinel ended up hitting Orion instead, sending him flying near the entrance to the planet’s core and hanging on for dear life. The moment he cries out to Megatron for help…I bursted into tears right there. His innocent perspective has been destroyed permanently, and he’s now a broken shell of his formerly spunky self. To add more salt to the wound, Megatron reaches for him…only for him to declare that he’s done saving him from trouble after one too many times. Then, he sent him falling into the core. Megatron has crossed the line, and with eyes now red with hate and pain, he finally killed Sentinel in front of a now devoted group of followers who will obey his every word. He has now become the person he has sworn to destroy…

As that’s going on, Orion’s broken, lifeless body is gently brought down inside of the core and it’s revealed that he is the one who is destined to receive the One Piece…aka, the Matrix of Leadership. Thus, he is now reborn as the Optimus Prime we all know and love. The use of a theme from the G1 movie is the cherry on top of an utterly haunting, yet powerful scene that needs to be seen on the big screen.

After he has risen and put an end to Megatron’s madness, he decides that the best option for them both is banishing Megatron and his followers from Iacon. The fact that he chose this option instead of simply killing his former best friend really speaks a lot about not only his character, but also how much their relationship has essentially been ruined by how different they are in terms of wanting change. Alas, Megatron goes off into the sunset with his followers and Optimus is left there…mourning the death of their once great bond. When it showed a memory of how they met afterwards, it made me sobbed uncontrollably. At this point, you’re left with one question:

Will they ever go back to where they were at before?

Thus, we end on a bittersweet ending…an ending of two former friends who were torn apart by the sins of the fathers and the aftermath of said sins. All there’s left to do is wait and hope that everything will be okay soon.

Overall…Orion and Megatron are what makes the movie for me. Their chemistry, their character development, and the phenomenal performances of Chris Hemsworth and Brian Tyree Henry are what makes them the most layered, most complex iterations of the characters respectively.

Conclusion: IT’S SO GOOD, YOU GUYS.

Words cannot describe how Transformers One is a phenomenal love letter to the franchise I hold very dear to my heart since I was a kid. Overall, this is a fantastic movie that you will love.

It has phenomenal characters, gorgeous animation, an amazing score, and a powerful story of how you have the power to change the world and make it better. For the very first time since Cyberverse, I award the very rare 10/10 to this film.

Please check it out. I applaud everyone involved in this project for making it a beautiful work of art for the fans. It is indeed more than meets the eye.

[tariah23]

ur tags on that kenjaku post… oh my god you saw that too? i was truly horrified

YEAH… I saw that shit, I hate stsg so much lmfaooo. It’s so obvious that they want Getou to be the “girl,” so badly. He’s getting the treatment of every dark haired best friend in a popular shounen 🚶🏾‍♀️. He’s too good of a character for this!

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[luveline]

𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

Spencer calls you drunk and in need of rescue. You confess a few secrets to him while he won’t remember them (or so you think). 3k, fem

cw drunk!spencer, mentioned past drug use, confident/bombshell!reader, flirting, spencer getting some well deserved comfort, a handful of his drunken compliments, insecurity, intense mutual pining

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You’re blissfully sleeping in the arms of a REM cycle when your phone rings. It pulls you by the chest, a punch of shock and expectancy at once. It’ll be someone calling you into work, Hotch himself if you’re lucky. 

You search blindly for your phone. If you’re even luckier, it’ll be a wrong number. Your fingers curl around the little body of your phone and you bring it to your ear without checking the number, frazzled. “Hello?” you ask hoarsely. 

Total quiet. 

“Hello?” You pull the screen away. The caller reads: SPENCER. You pull it back rather than hang up. “Hey, Spencer. Are you there?” 

“Hello.” He laughs. “Hello, are you there?” 

“I’m here, Spencer, where are you?” 

“That’s an interesting question, actually, and I’m sure there’s a great answer, but…” 

“But what?” You sit up quickly, your throat aching with sleep. Your room is black as coal pitch. “Spencer, what time is it, my love?” 

“You shouldn’t call me stuff like that.” 

“Stop being weird and tell me where you are.” 

He laughs like a hyena. You can see it in your mind, his smile and all his pearly perfect teeth. You love it when he smiles like that and he rarely ever does. “I’m somewhere and I need your help getting home!” he says with another funny laugh. 

“Are you alright? You sound…” He sounds inebriated. 

Spencer struggled with his drug problem for so long before you found out. You just hadn’t been around enough, and when you were he’d gotten good at hiding it. You can still remember how furious you’d been with everyone, including him, because you could’ve helped, would’ve done anything to support him through it. If he’s hurting now and hasn’t told you, you love him, but you’ll be insanely angry. 

“Spencer?” you ask quietly. 

“I went for drinks with a girl but she didn’t like me and I may have drowned my sorrows too much,” he admits. “Um. Did you know gin is very strong?” 

“Aw, baby. You’re cheating on me?” 

“I’m afraid so,” he says, and hiccups. 

“Where are you?” 

After some hassle wherein you persuade Spencer to give the phone to someone else in the bar for a slightly less drunk interrogation, you dress and gather your bearings for the drive. You zip a hoodie up over your pyjamas, stuff your feet into some old converse, and set out into the dark to find him. 

He calls you again as you’re parking. “Hello,” he says as soon as you answered. “I need you to come and get me.” 

Spencer called you twice to save him. Even if he doesn’t remember, he’s called you to come and get him when he knows he needs help, and that realisation is hard to ignore. “Spencer, I’m two minutes away, I’m parking. You’re still where you were?” 

“Where was I?” 

“At the bar, sweetheart. Are you still there?” It’s scarily dark out and you didn’t grab any sort of defensive measure before you came, which you regret now, climbing out of your car to walk the dimly lit road. The bar glows like a beacon to be followed. 

“Still where?” 

“Did you hit your head?” 

“Not to my knowledge. Though I’m not sure I have much right now. I feel like I’m forgetting everything I’ve ever read, and I’ve read a lot. You know I can read about eighty average length novels in one hour on an e-reader? The buttons make it faster.” 

“You haven’t told me that before.” You shiver against the nighttime winds, footsteps heavy on the grey sidewalk. 

“I’m trying to be more conversational. Emily says it’s not working.” 

“You’re conversational. Isn’t the only condition of being conversational to prompt a conversation? We’re always talking.” 

“…What?” 

You laugh like crazy. “Spencer, you don’t need to change the way you talk.” 

“I annoy people.” 

“You don’t annoy me.” 

You approach the door of the bar, a ramshackle sheet of plywood over what looks to be a glass door. The bar building seems in similar dessaray, with modern features wrecked by scratches and smashed panes. It’s a real dive. Spencer couldn’t have meant to come here. 

You war with both hands to open the door and find yourself faced with a long and empty corridor leading to another door. Worried you’re going to get kidnapped, you bring the phone back to your ear, Spencer’s chatting an immediate greeting. “…telling me I’m doing something wrong without telling me what it is, it’s impossible.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, can you come to the door?” 

“I don’t think I have control of my legs,” he says without inflection. 

“It’s definitely the building with the smashed door?” 

“Yesssss. Are you here?” he asks excitedly. 

“I better not get murdered, Spencer Reid.” 

“Am I in trouble?” 

“How are you even keeping the phone to your ear right now?” 

“I’m on speaker phone. Milly showed me how to do it. Say hi, Milly.” 

“Hi Milly,” a new voice says. 

You rub your eyes with one hand and square your shoulders, prepared to defend yourself if the creepy door leads to a creepier room. 

Spencer is immediately visible from the get go. You open the door on to a rather cosy looking bar, which you’re thinking might be the whole point; wretched exterior, secret attraction. Warm orange light ebbs into the space from sconces and a faux fireplace, while a wrestling match playing from the small TV behind the bar casts brighter light down onto Spencer’s shoulders. He looks out of place, dressed in a white oxford shirt and a suit jacket, his tie loosened and hanging from either side of his neck, compared to the lingering patrons who sit dotted around the room in booths and on barstools. One such patron sits in a plaid shirt and a trucker hat, her hair to her back, thick and dark. 

You hang up the call and put your phone in your pocket. Spencer gasps like he’s been smacked and picks his own phone up from the bar, clicking at buttons with clumsy fingers. “No,” he hums sadly. 

“Spencer,” you say, not wanting to disturb the people spending their sorry-looking night here. “Spencer. Hey, Spence!” 

His phone tips between his fingers. The woman you assume to be Milly catches it and offers it back without looking too far from her beer. 

“Hey,” you say gently, crossing a wide empty space to meet him. The room itself is shaped like a horseshoe, the bar taking up a surprising amount in the centre, and booths and tables placed around it. Spencer’s off of his barstool as you approach, eyes like puppy dog’s, arms extended. “You okay?” you ask. 

You can feel eyes on you both from every angle, but it doesn’t matter, not when Spencer’s falling into your arms (or on to them —he’s surprisingly tall when you aren’t wearing heels). “You alright?” you ask again. 

“You don’t have to be worried, I’m fine.” 

He’s less coordinated in real life than he’d sounded over the phone, his slurring unmissable, his hands like jumping fish as he tries to hug you. It’s weird and straining to take his weight but you do it without complaint. He smells the same, at least, only his cedary cologne is sharpened by the tang of gin on his breath. 

“Thank god you’re here,” he whispers. 

“Why?” you ask, pulling away to check for danger. 

“I missed you.” 

“I missed you too, handsome,” you say, genuine but laying it on thick simultaneously as you ease his head back to cup his cheek. You can’t help yourself. He’s the prettiest man you’ve ever met, and it gets worse every year. 

He frowns at you deeply. “I don’t like first dates.” 

“Then don’t go on them,” you suggest, “you don’t need to until you’re ready.” 

“I’m ready for love,” he says. You pull your lips into a flattened line, unsure of what to say, how to explain that it’s waiting for him, but his chin dips towards his neck and his eyes lock onto your face. “You’re not wearing makeup. God, you’re so pretty.” 

You flinch away from him. “Fuck, Spencer.”

“I’m sorry! It’s not that you don’t look pretty with makeup, but I never see you without it!” 

You’d forgotten you weren’t wearing any. Makeup isn’t a shield, exactly, but you like putting your best foot forward, so to speak. You’ve no clue what you look like tonight, hadn’t managed to look in the mirror, you’d been focused on getting to Spencer before he got lost. You can imagine the puffiness.

Spencer touches your cheek. You let him turn you mostly because he’s surprised you, his eyes roving up and down your face with a fawning curiosity. 

“You’re beautiful. You know that already, but people don’t tell you enough,” he says, his hand falling from your cheek. 

“Spencer,” you say softly, “let’s get you home.” 

You thank Milly for her help and grab Spencer’s bag from the floor to hang on your shoulder. You’d make a joke about how heavy it was if you didn’t think he’d take it from you, and, considering how drunk he is, topple over from the imbalance it provides. His shirt is clammy where you push your hand through his arm to link them, his footsteps wobbly. 

“I didn’t want to go on a date,” he says. 

“Then why did you go?” you ask, helping him over the door jam into the long hallway. 

“I don’t want to be alone forever.” 

“Spencer, you won’t be.” It doesn’t feel like the best time to bring up how much you like him. You’re sure he thinks you’re kidding, doesn’t everybody? Don’t torture him, they say. Don’t toy with him. Every time you flirt with him the team acts like you can’t mean it, and for a while it worked for you; you weren’t in love with Spencer. You weren’t playing with his feelings, but you didn’t love him, and then you joined the team and got to know him, watched him fluster at every comment you made or under any soft looking and realised you could love him. It was easy to fall for him. You liked doing it. But now he’s determined to write your affection off as a joke and going on dates? 

In the morning, when he’s sober, you’ll have to tell him how you feel. Or you could let him find someone more like him… ugh. It’s such a mess. 

You grapple with the size of your feelings for him as he hums and laughs his way down the hall to the glass door. On the street, he squints and straightens his back, fighting to regain his arm from your hold to cover your shoulder instead. “It’s cold,” he says in surprise. “You okay?” 

“I’m fine, I got my jacket. It’s a short walk, come on.”

His arm stops acting as protection and starts to use you for support. “I didn’t mean to drink so much.” 

“Drowning your sorrows is always a terrible idea because it tends to work,” you lament, less scared of the dark with him at your hip, though what protection he might offer is negated by the alcohol. 

“She kind of looked like you.” 

You squeeze your eyes together quickly. “Oh.” 

“I didn’t know she was going to. But she didn’t– she didn’t– it’s hard to talk. She didn’t listen like you do,” he says, lightly slurring, “she just stared at me like everyone used to in high school. Like she could tell there’s something wrong with me.” 

“Spencer, there’s nothing wrong with you.”

“I know,” he says. 

“Do you?” 

“Yes.” He frowns. “No, I don’t know. I don’t feel like there’s something wrong with me,” —his voice turns to a nearly indistinguishable mumble— “but everyone else always does.” 

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you.” 

“Is that why you make all your jokes?” 

“What jokes, babe?” 

“Like that! Like babe. It’s funny ‘cos you’d never date me.” 

You’d slow if he weren’t already walking at a snail's pace. “That’s not true. Let’s talk about it in the morning, okay?” 

“I won’t remember to ask you in the morning.” 

“Spencer, you remember everything.” 

He drags his feet. “I wish I wasn’t so weird,” he whines. It’s playful at the forefront but desperate otherwise, and it gives you pause. “I wish I was normal, and you could like me normal.” 

You look down at your hands, panicking, a flash of Is this a good idea? like an alarm in your head as you turn on the sidewalk to face him. He’s looking at you like he’s begging you to disagree with him. 

You’re happy to. 

“Spencer, I like you like this,” you insist loudly. His eyes and all his sweet lashes track the movement of your hand as you touch your chest, and your neck. “You’re not normal, I’m not normal. Do you know how many times I’ve been rejected? Just for being me? I’m too bossy, too outspoken, too– too high maintenance. I've had friends with good intentions tell me I need to lower my standards, need to relax, because otherwise I’m going to end up alone for the rest of my life. I feel alone all the time.”

“But you’re perfect,” he says, puzzled. 

“To you. And you’re perfect to me.” Your hand crawls to the base of your throat. “So don’t say you’re weird like it’s ugly, honey. And don’t think I don’t like you, ‘cos I do. You think I’d come and get anybody else in the middle of the night dressed like this?” you ask him, gesturing to your ratty pyjamas and your dingy converse. 

“You look so cute,” he says mournfully. 

You roll your eyes. He’s too wasted for this conversation. “Come on, sweetheart. You can think about this too much in the morning. Let’s just get home in one piece.” Physically and emotionally. 

“Can I come home with you?” he asks. 

That had always been the plan. “Ask me nicely and I’ll consider it on the way.” 

— — 

Spencer shuts his eyes, hands itching to clap over his ears as you scratch the head of a spatula across your frying pan. “Is three eggs too many? People usually have two but that’s never enough for me.” 

“I think…” Oh my god the metal screeching is so loud. “You should have as many as you want. You know your body. There’s this study on intuitive eating…” I'm too hungover for this. “Three eggs is better than two.” 

“So you want three?” 

He cannot eat right now. “Yes. Please.” 

Spencer’s half sick with dehydration and half grief. He stayed at your house last night and he was too drunk to be nosy. He slept in your bed. He slept in your bed. He woke up to you at your vanity doing your hair, the nutty smell of hair oil mixed with the heat of the hair tool on high and realised with a start that he’d missed something he thought about all the time. 

You’d tipped your head back to smile at him. “There’s my boy. Sweet dreams?” 

He didn’t dream, but if he had, it would’ve been another agonising wish where you were his girlfriend, or his wife, or just there looking at him with love. He wakes up feeling sick because it isn’t true. And now you’re making him breakfast, humming a tune under your breath, sourdough sizzling under the grill and a shoddily blended avocado sitting in the bowl in front of him. 

You asked him for one thing. He picks up the fork and starts to mash the avocado again. He can’t fight the foreignness of sitting in your kitchen, a gap in his memory. 

He knows he told you about his date, how she looked like you, how she didn’t seem to like him much, but he’s struggling to collect the finer details. Why had you picked him up? He must’ve called you, but you could’ve said no. He remembers thinking you looked beautiful, but he always thinks that. 

The avocado is making him feel sick. 

“Here,” you say, sliding a plate of toast in front of him. “Do you want butter?” 

“I think I'm gonna throw up.” 

“You’re okay.”

“I can’t believe how I acted,” he says, pressing his palms to the hollows of his eyes. 

You turn off the hob. Fat bubbles and pops until it’s cooled. The clock on the wall by the refrigerator ticks incessantly. His slept-in shirt feels too tight despite the undone button. 

“Hey…” You round the island but don’t touch him, your voice gentle. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

He drags his hands down his face. “I can barely remember what I said.” 

“You were really nice to me… told me I looked pretty without my makeup, n’ that I was perfect. You were really nice.” 

Your tone is off. No flirtatiousness, no endless confidence, you sound wistful, like you’re glad he said it. You take the bowl of avocado he’s made a mess with and put it aside with the toast, resting your arm on the counter, and leaning into his space. “Spencer, last night? You didn’t do anything to be embarrassed of. You were nice, and kind. You tried to open the car door for me and you almost lost your eye, but you were fine. You don’t have anything to be worried about, really.”

“But it’s you.” 

“Gonna touch your hair,” you say, giving him enough time to move away as you reach out and rake back his fringe. His heart leaps into his mouth. “You said something last night like that, you know? Do you remember that? You said if you were normal.” You grace the skin beside his eye with the tip of your thumb, your perfume floating his way as you move. “And I said–”

“I’m not normal,” he says, remembering now. 

You’re not normal, I’m not normal, you’d said.

But you’re perfect, he’d said. 

To you. And you’re perfect to me.

“Right. We’re not normal, Spencer Reid, so forget that girl. She didn’t deserve you anyways,” you say. 

You draw a short, silken line down his cheek with the side of your pinky. To be touched so lightly has his stomach in knots —he’s not shocked by the swiftness with which your affection can make a bad situation good again. 

You turn away. “Now we should eat before everything goes cold.” 

He watches your shoulders move, and he remembers one last detail. So don’t say you’re weird like it’s ugly, honey. And don’t think I don’t like you, ‘cos I do. 

The way you’d said it… you couldn’t really mean…

“How’s your appetite? Still feeling sick?” you ask. 

Spencer smiles to himself, the ghost of your touch glowing warm on his cheek. “I’m feeling a lot better, actually.” 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading!!! please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed, i appreciate anything and it always inspires me to write more<3!! my requests are pretty much always open for bombshell!reader (even though this one strays a bit from their usual story haha) so if you wanna see more let me know❤️

[pucksandpower]

Paddock Princess

Formula 1 (literally half the grid) x Vettel!Reader

Summary: when the drivers find out that you’re planning to have a baby all by yourself, they offer to help out by playing sperm roulette … the results are surprisingly wholesome

The buzz of excitement fills the air as the paddock comes to life on a sunny morning. Drivers, team personnel, and media representatives mill about, but there’s a palpable sense of anticipation among a particular group of racers gathered near the Ferrari motorhome.

Max leans against the sleek red structure, his eyes darting around nervously. “Has anyone seen her yet?” He asks, his voice tinged with a mix of excitement and anxiety.

Charles shakes his head, running a hand through his tousled hair. “Not yet. But she should be here soon, right?”

“I still can’t believe we’re doing this,” Lando chimes in, bouncing on his toes. “It’s like something out of a movie.”

Carlos nods in agreement, a grin spreading across his face. “A very strange movie, but I’m here for it.”

George glances at his watch, his brow furrowed. “She’s usually here by now. You don’t think she’s having second thoughts, do you?”

“No way,” Oscar says confidently. “You know her. Once she sets her mind to something, that’s it.”

Lewis, standing slightly apart from the younger drivers, offers a reassuring smile. “Oscar’s right. She’s one of the most determined people I know. If this is what she wants, she’ll see it through.”

Logan, the newest addition to the group, shifts nervously. “I still can’t believe you guys talked me into this. My mom would freak if she knew.”

Alex pats him on the shoulder. “Relax, mate. It’s all anonymous, remember? Besides, think of how happy she’ll be.”

Fernando, leaning against a nearby barrier, nods sagely. “Exactly. We’re doing this for her, because she deserves it.”

Lance, who’s been quiet until now, suddenly straightens up. “Heads up, guys. I think I see her coming.”

The group falls silent as you approach, your press pass swinging from your neck and a warm smile on your face. “Morning, boys,” you greet them cheerfully. “Why do you all look like you’re up to something?”

Max clears his throat, trying to sound casual. “Us? Never. Just, uh, enjoying the nice weather.”

You raise an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Uh-huh. And I suppose you’re all gathered here by pure coincidence?”

Charles steps forward, his charm on full display. “Can’t we just be happy to see our favorite reporter?”

You laugh, the sound lightening the mood. “Alright, alright. I’ll play along. But seriously, what’s going on? You’re all acting weird.”

The drivers exchange glances, silently debating who should speak first. Finally, Lewis takes the lead.

“We heard about your decision,” he says gently. “About wanting to have a baby.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. “Oh. I didn’t realize ... I mean, I only told a couple of people.”

Lando grins sheepishly. “Word travels fast in the paddock. Especially when it’s about you.”

You look around at the group, a mix of emotions playing across your face. “Okay, so you know. But that doesn’t explain why you’re all acting like you’re planning a heist.”

Carlos steps forward, his expression earnest. “We want to help.”

You blink, confusion evident in your eyes. “Help? How?”

George takes a deep breath before plunging in. “We’ve all agreed to donate sperm. To give you options, you know?”

Your jaw drops, and for a moment, you’re speechless. “You ... what?”

Oscar jumps in, his words tumbling out in a rush. “We know you said you were thinking about using a sperm bank, but we thought, well, why not use someone you actually know?”

“And trust,” Alex adds quickly.

You look around at the group, your expression a mix of shock, confusion, and something that might be amusement. “Let me get this straight. All of you,” you gesture at the assembled drivers, “want to donate sperm so I can have a baby?”

They nod in unison, and you can’t help but laugh. “This is ... I don’t even know what to say. It’s incredibly sweet, but also completely insane.”

Fernando steps forward, his expression serious. “We know it’s unconventional. But you’re important to all of us. We want to support you in any way we can.”

You shake your head, still trying to process the situation. “I appreciate that, truly. But guys, this is a huge decision. It’s not just about me having a baby. One of you would be a father.”

Max nods, his face set in determination. “We’ve thought about that. A lot, actually.”

“And we’re okay with it,” Lando adds. “Whatever level of involvement you want, we’ll respect that.”

You look at them, your eyes narrowing slightly. “Wait a minute. How exactly would this work? I can’t exactly pick one of you. That would be ...”

“Awkward,” Lance finishes for you. “We know. That’s why we came up with a plan.”

Logan, who’s been quiet until now, speaks up. “We’d all donate, and then the clinic would mix the samples together.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “So it would be like ... artificial insemination roulette?”

Carlos grins. “Exactly! That way, no one knows who the father is. It could be any of us.”

You shake your head, a disbelieving laugh escaping you. “This is absolutely crazy. You know that, right?”

Lewis steps closer, his expression gentle. “Maybe. But we all care about you. We want you to be happy, and we know how much you want this.”

You look around at the group, taking in their earnest expressions. “I don’t know what to say. This is ... a lot to process.”

George nods understandingly. “Of course it is. We don’t expect you to decide right now. Just ... think about it, okay?”

You nod slowly, still looking a bit dazed. “Okay. I’ll think about it. But guys, this is a huge thing you’re offering. Are you sure you’ve really thought it through?”

Alex speaks up, his voice calm and reassuring. “We have. We’ve talked about it a lot, actually. We know it’s not a decision to make lightly.”

“But we’re all in agreement,” Oscar adds. “If this is what you want, we want to help make it happen.”

You take a deep breath, looking around at the group. “I need some time to think about this. It’s ... a lot to take in.”

Max nods, reaching out to squeeze your shoulder gently. “Take all the time you need. We’re not going anywhere.”

As you turn to walk away, still looking a bit shell-shocked, the drivers watch you go with a mix of hope and anxiety.

“Do you think she’ll go for it?” Lando asks, nervously fidgeting with his sleeve.

Charles shrugs, his eyes still following your retreating figure. “I don’t know. It’s a big decision.”

“We’ve done our part,” Fernando says sagely. “Now it’s up to her.”

The group falls into a contemplative silence, each lost in their own thoughts about the potential consequences of their offer.

Several days pass, and the paddock is abuzz with speculation. The drivers have managed to keep their offer under wraps, but your contemplative mood hasn’t gone unnoticed.

You find yourself cornered by the group once again, this time in a quiet corner of the paddock after qualifying.

“So,” Max says, trying to sound casual and failing miserably. “Have you, uh, given any thought to our offer?”

You look around at the expectant faces surrounding you and take a deep breath. “I have, actually. I’ve thought about little else, to be honest.”

The tension in the air is palpable as they wait for your decision.

“I’m still not sure this is the right thing to do,” you begin, and you can see their faces fall. “But ... I can’t deny that the idea has a certain appeal.”

Hope blossoms in their expressions, and you can’t help but smile at their eagerness.

“Before I say yes,” you continue, holding up a hand to stave off their excitement, “I need to know that you’ve all really thought this through. This isn’t just about me having a baby. One of you will be a father, even if we don’t know which one.”

Lewis nods solemnly. “We understand. We’ve talked about it a lot, believe me.”

“And you’re all okay with the possibility of having a child out there that you might never know is yours?” You press.

They exchange glances before nodding in unison.

“We know it’s not a conventional situation,” Charles says. “But we’re all willing to accept whatever comes of this.”

You look at each of them in turn, searching their faces for any sign of doubt. Finding none, you take a deep breath.

“Okay,” you say finally. “If you’re all sure about this ... then yes. I’d be honored to accept your offer.”

The reaction is immediate and overwhelming. Cheers erupt from the group, and before you know it, you’re engulfed in a group hug.

“This is going to be amazing,” Lando exclaims, his face lit up with excitement.

“You’re going to be an incredible mother,” Alex adds, his smile warm and sincere.

As the excitement dies down, practical considerations start to surface.

“So, how do we do this?” Oscar asks. “Do we all just show up at the clinic or ...”

You can’t help but laugh at the mental image. “I think it might be best if we handle this discreetly. I’ll talk to the clinic and set everything up. They can give you instructions on how to make your ... contributions.”

George nods, looking relieved. “That sounds like a good plan. We don’t want this getting out to the media.”

“Agreed,” you say firmly. “This stays between us. No one else needs to know the details.”

The group nods in agreement, and you feel a wave of affection for these men who are willing to go to such lengths for you.

“I can’t believe this is really happening,” you say, shaking your head in wonder.

Fernando smiles, his eyes twinkling. “Believe it. In a few months, you could be on your way to motherhood.”

The reality of the situation starts to sink in, and you feel a mix of excitement and nerves. “This is going to change everything, isn’t it?”

“Change can be good,” Carlos says, giving you a reassuring smile. “And you won’t be alone. We’ll all be here to support you.”

You look around at the group, feeling overwhelmed by their support and affection. “Thank you. All of you. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you for this.”

Max grins, lightening the mood. “Well, naming the kid after me would be a good start.”

The group erupts in laughter, and you roll your eyes good-naturedly. “Nice try, Verstappen. But I think we’ll be steering clear of any names that might give away paternity.”

As the laughter dies down, a comfortable silence falls over the group. The magnitude of what you’ve all agreed to hangs in the air, but it’s accompanied by a sense of excitement and possibility.

“So,” Lance says, breaking the silence. “I guess the next step is to set up appointments at the clinic?”

You nod, feeling a flutter of nervous excitement in your stomach. “Yeah, I’ll get that sorted out and let you all know the details.”

“And then ...” Logan trails off, looking a bit overwhelmed.

“And then we wait,” Lewis finishes for him. “And hope for the best.”

You look around at the group of men surrounding you, each one ready to potentially become a father for your sake. It’s an unconventional situation, to say the least, but as you take in their supportive smiles and excited eyes, you can’t help but feel that you’re embarking on something truly special.

“Well, boys,” you say, a smile spreading across your face. “I guess we’re really doing this. Let Operation Make A Baby commence.”

***

The hospital waiting room crackles with nervous energy as eleven Formula 1 drivers pace, fidget, and attempt to distract themselves. The air is thick with anticipation, and every time the door opens, heads snap up in unison, hoping for news.

Max runs a hand through his hair for the hundredth time. “How long has it been now?” He asks, his voice tight with tension.

George checks his watch. “About six hours since we got here. But labor can take a while, especially for first-time mothers.”

“I still can’t believe this is really happening,” Lando says, his leg bouncing incessantly. “One of us is about to become a father.”

Charles nods, his eyes fixed on the door. “It’s surreal. I keep thinking I’m going to wake up and find out this was all a dream.”

“Not a dream, mate,” Alex says, patting Charles on the shoulder. “Very much real.”

The door swings open, and a nurse steps out. The drivers collectively hold their breath, but she merely smiles apologetically and heads down the hallway.

Carlos groans. “This waiting is killing me. How are we supposed to just sit here?”

“We could place bets on who the father is,” Logan suggests with a nervous laugh.

Lewis shakes his head, a small smile on his face. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. We agreed we wouldn’t try to figure it out, remember?”

“Lewis is right,” Fernando says sagely. “What matters is that the baby and the mother are healthy.”

Oscar nods in agreement. “Exactly. We’re all in this together, regardless of biology.”

Lance, who’s been quietly observing until now, speaks up. “Do you think she’s scared? I mean, we’re all nervous wrecks out here, and we’re not the ones giving birth.”

The group falls silent, contemplating Lance’s words. It’s a sobering thought, reminding them of the magnitude of what’s happening just beyond those doors.

“She’s strong,” Max says finally, his voice filled with admiration. “Stronger than all of us put together. She’ll be fine.”

As if on cue, the door swings open again, and this time, a doctor steps out. The drivers scramble to their feet, forming a semicircle around her.

“Gentlemen,” the doctor says, a smile playing at her lips. “I’m happy to inform you that both mother and baby are doing well. It’s a healthy baby girl.”

A collective cheer erupts from the group, followed by a flurry of hugs and backslaps. The tension that’s been building for hours finally breaks, replaced by jubilant relief.

“When can we see them?” Charles asks eagerly.

The doctor holds up a hand. “The mother is resting now, but she’s asked to see you all in about an hour. She wants you to meet the baby together.”

As the doctor leaves, the drivers look at each other, a mix of excitement and nerves on their faces.

“A girl,” Lando says, a goofy grin spreading across his face. “We have a daughter.”

“She has a daughter,” Lewis gently corrects. “We’re ... well, I’m not sure what we are exactly.”

“We’re family,” Fernando says firmly. “All of us and the little one.”

The next hour passes in a blur of excited chatter and speculation. Finally, a nurse appears to escort them to the private room where you and the baby are waiting.

As they file into the room, the sight that greets them renders them momentarily speechless. You’re propped up in the bed, looking tired but radiant, cradling a tiny bundle wrapped in a soft pink blanket.

You look up as they enter, a soft smile on your face. “Hey, guys. Come meet your daughter.”

The drivers approach cautiously, as if afraid they might break the spell. You adjust the blanket, revealing a tiny face with rosebud lips and a button nose.

“She’s beautiful,” Max breathes, his eyes wide with wonder.

“She’s perfect,” Charles adds, his voice choked with emotion.

You beam at them, your eyes shining. “Want to hold her?”

After a moment of hesitation, Lewis steps forward. With practiced ease, he gently takes the baby from you, cradling her carefully in his arms.

“Hello, little one,” he coos softly. “Welcome to the world.”

The other drivers crowd around, each wanting a closer look. As Lewis passes the baby to Carlos, the scrutiny intensifies.

“Is it just me, or does she have Max’s nose?” Lando asks, peering closely at the tiny face.

Max leans in, his brow furrowed. “I don’t see it. But those ears ... they look like yours, Lando.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Boys, she’s about one hour old. I think it’s a bit early to be playing guess the father, don’t you?”

The drivers have the grace to look sheepish, but their curiosity is far from satisfied.

As the baby is passed from driver to driver, the observations continue.

“She has a strong grip,” Alex notes as tiny fingers wrap around his thumb. “Definitely going to be a racer.”

“Look at those long eyelashes,” Oscar marvels. “Those have to be from Charles.”

Charles preens a bit at this, while the others roll their eyes good-naturedly.

When it’s Fernando’s turn to hold the baby, he studies her with a thoughtful expression. “You know,” he says slowly, “I think she has your smile.”

You raise an eyebrow. “She hasn’t even smiled yet.”

He shakes his head, a mysterious smile on his face. “Trust me. I can tell.”

As the baby makes her way back to you, the drivers settle into chairs around the room, their eyes never leaving the tiny bundle.

“So,” George says, breaking the comfortable silence. “Have you thought about names?”

You nod, looking down at your daughter. “I have, actually. I was thinking ... Nessa. It means miracle. I thought it was fitting, given how she came into our lives.”

“Nessa,” Logan repeats, testing the name. “I like it. It’s beautiful.”

The others murmur their agreement, and you feel a wave of relief. Naming a baby is hard enough without having to consider the opinions of eleven potential fathers.

“Nessa it is, then,” you say, smiling down at the sleeping infant.

Lance, who’s been quiet until now, speaks up. “Can I ask ... how are you feeling? About all of this, I mean.”

You take a moment to consider the question. “Honestly? I’m overwhelmed. Excited, terrified, grateful ... all at once. But mostly, I’m just in awe. Of her, of this whole situation, of all of you.”

The drivers exchange glances, a mix of emotions playing across their faces.

“We’re the ones who should be in awe of you,” Carlos says softly. “You’ve given us an incredible gift.”

“He’s right,” Max adds. “No matter which one of us is her biological father, we’re all going to love her. And you.”

You feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. “Thank you. All of you. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

As if sensing the emotional moment, Nessa chooses that moment to wake up, her tiny face scrunching up as she lets out a wail.

“Oh boy,” Lando says, his eyes wide. “That’s quite a set of lungs she’s got there.”

You laugh, adjusting Nessa in your arms. “Well, she is a paddock baby. Got to make herself heard over those engines somehow.”

As you soothe the baby, the drivers watch in fascination. It’s clear that despite their earlier bravado, the reality of a newborn is a bit daunting.

“So, uh, what happens now?” Oscar asks, voicing the question on everyone’s mind.

You look up from Nessa, who’s settled back into sleep. “Well, we’ll be here for a couple more days. After that ... I guess we figure it out as we go along.”

Lewis nods thoughtfully. “We’ll need to work out a schedule. Make sure you have support, especially during race weekends.”

“And we’ll need to baby-proof our garages,” Alex adds. “Can’t have her crawling into a stack of tires.”

The conversation turns to practical matters — childcare arrangements, safety considerations, and how to balance their racing careers with their new roles as ... well, whatever they are to Nessa.

As they talk, you can’t help but marvel at the scene. Eleven of the world’s most elite drivers, discussing diaper brands and the merits of various baby carriers with the same intensity they usually reserve for tire strategies and aerodynamics.

“You know,” you say, interrupting a heated debate about the best brand of baby formula, “I think Nessa might be the luckiest baby in the world.”

The drivers pause, looking at you quizzically.

You smile, looking around at each of them. “She’s got eleven of the most dedicated, passionate, and competitive men in the world looking out for her. Plus, she’s guaranteed to have the coolest bring your parent to school day ever.”

The room erupts in laughter, the tension of the day finally breaking.

“Just wait until she’s old enough to drive,” Max says with a grin. “We’ll have her in a kart before she can walk.”

“Oh no,” you groan, though you’re smiling. “I’ve created a monster, haven’t I?”

“Eleven monsters,” Charles corrects with a wink. “Don’t forget, we’re all in this together.”

As the laughter dies down, a comfortable silence falls over the room. Nessa sleeps peacefully in your arms, blissfully unaware of the extraordinary circumstances of her birth and the unique family she’s been born into.

Fernando breaks the silence. “You know,” he says thoughtfully, “in many ways, this little one embodies the spirit of Formula 1.”

The others look at him curiously, waiting for him to elaborate.

“Think about it,” he continues. “She’s the product of competition, of pushing boundaries, of taking risks. But she’s also about teamwork, about coming together for a common goal. Just like us on the track.”

The drivers nod, considering Fernando’s words.

“Plus,” Logan adds with a grin, “she’s already got a better sleep schedule than most of us during a race weekend.”

Another round of laughter fills the room, and you feel a surge of affection for these men who have become so much more than colleagues or even friends.

As visiting hours come to an end and the nurses start to shoo the drivers out, there’s a reluctance to leave. Each of them takes a moment to say goodbye to Nessa, promising to return soon.

Before they go, Lewis gathers everyone into a tight circle around your bed.

“I think we need to make a pact,” he says solemnly. “No matter what happens, no matter how our careers go or how life changes, we stick together for Nessa. She’s part of all of us now.”

The drivers nod in agreement, their faces serious.

“For Nessa,” Max says, placing his hand in the center of the circle.

One by one, the others follow suit, until all eleven hands are stacked together.

“For Nessa,” they chorus, and in that moment, you know that whatever challenges lie ahead, you and your daughter will never face them alone.

As the drivers file out, casting longing glances back at the sleeping baby, you settle back against your pillows, exhausted but content.

Looking down at Nessa’s peaceful face, you whisper, “Welcome to the world, little one. You’ve got quite the adventure ahead of you.”

And as you drift off to sleep, you can’t help but smile at the thought of the unconventional but loving family waiting just outside those hospital doors, ready to take on the world for the tiny girl in your arms.

***

The paddock rushes with activity as teams prepare for the upcoming race weekend. But between the usual hustle and bustle, an unusual sight catches everyone’s attention: you, pushing a stroller with a now six-month-old Nessa, surrounded by a protective circle of drivers.

Max hovers close, his eyes darting around warily. “Are you sure this was a good idea? Bringing her to the track?”

You laugh, adjusting Nessa’s sun hat. “Max, she’s been coming to races since she was born. This is nothing new.”

“Yeah, but now she’s old enough to attract attention,” Charles points out, cooing at Nessa as she gurgles happily.

Lando nods in agreement. “People are starting to ask questions. Did you see that article in Autosport last week?”

You sigh, remembering the speculative piece about Nessa’s parentage. “I saw it. But we knew this day would come eventually.”

As the group makes their way through the paddock, heads turn and whispers follow. The sight of eleven of the world’s top drivers fawning over one baby is certainly not an everyday occurrence.

Carlos leans in, speaking softly. “Maybe we should have come up with a cover story. You know, pick one of us to pretend to be the father.”

George shakes his head. “No, we agreed from the start — no lies. We’re all in this together, remember?”

“Easier said than done,” Logan mutters, noticing a group of journalists eyeing them curiously.

As they approach the Mercedes garage, Lewis spots a familiar face and freezes. “Uh, guys? We might have a problem.”

The others follow his gaze to see your older brother, striding purposefully towards the group. His expression is a mix of confusion and growing anger.

“Seb!” You exclaim, trying to sound casual. “What are you doing here? I thought you were in Switzerland.”

Sebastian ignores your greeting, his eyes narrowing as he takes in the scene before him. “What’s going on here?” He demands, his gaze sweeping over the assembled drivers.

The group exchanges nervous glances, each silently hoping someone else will take the lead.

Finally, Fernando steps forward, ever the diplomat. “Sebastian, my friend. It’s good to see you. Perhaps we could discuss this somewhere more private?”

But Sebastian is having none of it. His eyes lock onto Lewis, who instinctively takes a step back. “Lewis?” He says, his voice dangerously quiet. “Care to explain why you and half the grid are hovering around my sister and a baby?”

Lewis swallows hard, looking to the others for support. Finding none, he takes a deep breath. “Seb, it’s not what you think. Well, it is, but also it isn’t. You see-”

“Lewis?” Sebastian explodes, his face reddening. “I thought better of you!”

The outburst draws even more attention, and you can see team personnel and journalists alike straining to hear what’s happening.

Lewis, caught off guard by Sebastian’s reaction, blurts out, “In my defense, I thought I would get to fuck her!”

A collective gasp goes up from the group, and you bury your face in your hands, mortified.

Sebastian’s eyes widen in shock and fury. “Tha- what? How would that make it better?”

Realizing his mistake, Lewis backpedals frantically. “No, no, that came out wrong! I didn’t mean-”

But Sebastian is beyond listening. He lunges forward, only to be held back by Alex and Oscar.

“Let me go!” Sebastian growls, struggling against their grip. “I’m going to kill him!”

Nessa, startled by the commotion, begins to cry. The sound seems to snap everyone back to reality.

“Enough!” You shout, your voice cutting through the chaos. “All of you, into the motorhome. Now!”

Chastened, the drivers file into the nearby Red Bull motorhome, with Alex and Oscar still keeping a firm grip on Sebastian. You follow, pushing Nessa’s stroller and trying to soothe her.

Once inside, with the door firmly closed against prying eyes and ears, you turn to face the group. Sebastian stands at one end, still glaring daggers at Lewis, who’s wisely put Max and Charles between them.

“Alright,” you say, your voice tight with frustration. “I guess it’s time we explained everything.”

Over the next hour, you and the drivers take turns recounting the story — from your decision to have a baby, to their unconventional offer, to Nessa’s birth and the months since. Sebastian listens in stunned silence, his expression cycling through disbelief, confusion, and finally, grudging understanding.

When the tale is finished, Sebastian slumps into a chair, running a hand over his face. “So let me get this straight,” he says slowly. “You,” he points at you, “decided to have a baby on your own. And you lot,” he gestures at the drivers, “thought the best solution was to play some kind of ... paternity lottery?”

Lance nods hesitantly. “When you put it like that, it does sound a bit mad.”

“A bit?” Sebastian laughs incredulously. “It’s completely insane!”

“But it worked,” Carlos points out, gently rocking Nessa, who has calmed down and is now contentedly chewing on his finger. “Look at her, Seb. She’s perfect.”

Sebastian’s expression softens as he looks at his niece. “She is beautiful,” he admits. Then, turning back to the group, he adds sternly, “But that doesn’t excuse the fact that you all took advantage of my sister!”

“They didn’t take advantage of me,” you interject firmly. “This was my choice. They were just ... supporting me.”

“By offering to impregnate you?” Sebastian retorts, his protective big brother instincts in full force.

George steps forward, his expression earnest. “Sebastian, I know how this looks. But we care about your sister. All of us. We just wanted to help make her dream come true.”

“And create the world’s most confusing family tree in the process,” Logan mutters, earning a sharp elbow from Lando.

Sebastian sighs, looking around at the assembled drivers. “I still can’t believe you all agreed to this. Do you have any idea what you’re getting into? The media frenzy when this gets out?”

Fernando shrugs philosophically. “Life is full of challenges. This is just another one.”

“Easy for you to say,” Max grumbles. “You’re basically past retirement age. Some of us still have our whole careers ahead of us.”

The room falls silent as the reality of their situation sinks in. The secret they’ve managed to keep for over a year is on the verge of exploding into the public eye.

“So what do we do now?” Oscar asks, voicing the question on everyone’s mind.

You look down at Nessa, who’s drifted off to sleep in Carlos’ arms, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing around her. “We tell the truth,” you say firmly. “Or at least, as much of it as we’re comfortable sharing.”

Sebastian raises an eyebrow. “And what exactly does that mean?”

Lewis, who’s been uncharacteristically quiet since his earlier outburst, speaks up. “We could say that we all agreed to help you have a child, but keep the details private. No need to mention the ... um, method.”

“You mean the part where you thought you would get to fuck her?” Sebastian growls, causing Lewis to wince.

“I really am sorry about that,” Lewis says sheepishly. “It came out all wrong.”

You shake your head, exasperated. “Focus, boys. We need a plan.”

Over the next hour, the group hashes out a strategy. They decide to release a joint statement explaining that you had chosen to become a single mother, and that the drivers, as your close friends, had offered their support. The exact nature of that support would remain private.

As they finalize the details, Sebastian watches the interactions with growing amazement. The way the drivers instinctively work together, finishing each other’s sentences and anticipating potential issues, speaks to a bond that goes beyond mere friendship or even shared paternity.

“You know,” he says finally, interrupting a debate about whether to use the phrase ‘unconventional family’ in their statement, “I think I owe you all an apology.”

The room falls silent, all eyes turning to Sebastian.

He continues, his voice softer now. “I reacted badly earlier. But seeing you all now, how you’ve come together for my sister and for Nessa ... it’s actually kind of beautiful.”

You feel tears pricking at your eyes as you move to hug your brother. “Thank you, Seb. That means a lot.”

As you pull away, Sebastian turns to address the group. “But let me make one thing clear,” he says, his tone becoming stern once more. “If any of you ever hurt my sister or my niece, you’ll have me to answer to. Understood?”

The drivers nod solemnly, a mixture of respect and residual fear in their eyes.

“Good,” Sebastian says, a small smile finally breaking through. “Now, who’s going to let me hold my niece?”

As Carlos carefully transfers the sleeping Nessa to Sebastian’s arms, the tension in the room finally dissipates. Watching your brother coo over your daughter, surrounded by the unconventional family you’ve built, you feel a sense of peace wash over you.

“Well,” Lando says, breaking the moment, “I guess the hardest part’s over. Now we just have to explain this to the rest of the world.”

Alex laughs, shaking his head. “Mate, I think that might actually be the easy part. It’s raising her that’s going to be the real challenge.”

As the group dissolves into laughter, discussing potential future scenarios (“Who’s going to teach her to drive?” “All of us, obviously!” “God help us all.”), you can’t help but marvel at the strange and wonderful turn your life has taken.

Looking around at the men who have become so much more than colleagues or friends — who have become family in the truest sense of the word — you know that whatever challenges lie ahead, you’ll face them together. And really, with a support system like this, how can you possibly fail?

As the laughter and chatter continue around you, Nessa stirs in Sebastian’s arms, her tiny hand reaching out. Without hesitation, eleven hands reach back, each driver gently touching a finger or offering a thumb for her to grasp.

In that moment, watching the most competitive men in motorsport melt over one tiny girl, you know that no matter what the future holds, Nessa will never lack for love, support, or, undoubtedly, speed.

***

The sun beats down on the jam-packed karting track, the air thick with the scent of fuel and the buzz of excitement. Amid the crowd of nervous parents and eager young racers, one group stands out: eleven men, a mix of current and former Formula 1 drivers, clustered around a small kart where an eight-year-old girl sits, her hair pulled back in a tight ponytail and her face a mask of determination.

“Remember, Nessa,” Max says, kneeling beside the kart to look the girl in the eye, “smooth on the throttle, late on the brakes.”

Charles leans in from the other side. “But not too late, mon chou. You don’t want to lock up in the corners.”

“And watch your lines,” Lewis adds, adjusting Nessa’s helmet. “The racing line isn’t always the optimal when you’re being pressured.”

Nessa nods solemnly, taking in every word. “I know, I know. We’ve been over this a million times.”

Lando grins, ruffling her hair. “That’s our girl. You’ve got this, kiddo.”

Around them, other parents and children stare in disbelief. Whispers ripple through the crowd as people recognize the famous faces surrounding the young racer.

“Is that really Lewis Hamilton?” One mother hisses to her husband.

“And Max Verstappen!” The man replies, his eyes wide. “What are they doing here?”

A nearby father shakes his head in amazement. “I heard rumors about that kid, but I didn’t believe them. How can she have so many ... well, fathers?”

Meanwhile, you stand slightly apart from the group, watching the scene with a mix of pride and amusement. Your brother sidles up beside you.

“You know,” he says with a wry smile, “when I imagined my niece’s first race, I didn’t quite picture this circus.”

You laugh, nudging him with your elbow. “Oh come on, you love it. Besides, you’re just as bad as the rest of them.”

As if to prove your point, Sebastian’s eyes narrow as he spots Carlos making a last-minute adjustment to Nessa’s kart. “Hey!” He calls out, striding over. “What are you doing to her suspension?”

Carlos looks up, startled. “Just a small tweak. The track’s a bit bumpy on turn three.”

“It’s fine as it is,” George interjects, crouching down to inspect the kart. “Any softer and she’ll lose responsiveness in the chicane.”

“Actually,” Fernando chimes in, “a slight adjustment might help. But not too much, Carlos.”

As the debate over suspension settings intensifies, Alex notices Nessa’s growing nervousness. He kneels beside her, speaking softly. “Hey, little racer. How are you feeling?”

Nessa bites her lip, her eyes darting between her arguing fathers and the other young racers preparing for the race. “What if I let them down?” She whispers. “They’re all so excited.”

Alex’s expression softens. “Oh, Nessa. You could never let us down. We’re proud of you no matter what happens out there.”

“He’s right,” Oscar adds, overhearing the conversation. “We’re here because we love you, not because we expect you to win.”

“Although winning would be nice,” Logan quips, earning a chorus of groans and eye-rolls from the others.

“What Logan means,” Lance says, shooting a glare at his fellow driver, “is that we want you to do your best and, most importantly, have fun.”

Nessa nods, a small smile finally breaking through her nervous expression. “Okay. I’ll try.”

As the call comes for racers to take their positions, the group reluctantly steps back, allowing Nessa to maneuver her kart to the starting line. You move forward, leaning in to give your daughter a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Remember,” you say softly, “you’re amazing, no matter what happens out there. And we love you more than anything.”

Nessa beams at you, her earlier nerves seeming to melt away. “I love you too. And all my dads,” she adds with a giggle, looking at the assembled drivers.

As you step back to join the others, the atmosphere around you changes. The playful bickering and nervous energy give way to a focused intensity that you recognize from countless race weekends. Eleven pairs of eyes are locked on the small figure in the pink and white kart, second row on the starting grid.

The lights begin their sequence, and you can almost feel the collective intake of breath from the men around you. Green! The karts surge forward, and Nessa makes a good start, holding her position into the first corner.

“That’s it, ma princesse!” Charles cheers, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “Hold your line!”

“Watch your inside on turn two,” Max mutters, as if Nessa could hear him. “There’s space if you need it.”

As the race progresses, the commentary from the drivers becomes a constant stream, analyzing every move, every overtake, every defensive maneuver. Other parents cast bewildered glances their way, clearly overwhelmed by the level of scrutiny being applied to what they had assumed would be a casual children’s race.

Midway through the race, Nessa makes a bold move, diving down the inside of the leader into a tight hairpin. The karts touch slightly, and for a heart-stopping moment, it looks like both might spin.

“Steady!” Lewis calls out, his body tensing as if he could somehow influence the outcome through sheer will.

But Nessa manages to control the kart, emerging from the corner in the lead as the other driver runs wide.

The group erupts in cheers, their earlier promises of “it’s not about winning” seemingly forgotten in the heat of the moment.

“Did you see that move?” Lando exclaims, practically bouncing with excitement. “That was pure Norris!”

“Excuse me,” Charles interjects, a proud grin on his face, “I think you mean pure Leclerc. That finesse under pressure? All Ferrari.”

“Oh please,” George scoffs good-naturedly. “That was clearly a Russell special. Calculated risk with perfect execution.”

As the friendly argument over whose racing style Nessa has inherited continues, Sebastian leans in close to you. “You know,” he says, his voice a mix of amusement and resignation, “I’m starting to think we created a monster.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Oh, we definitely did. But look how happy they all are.”

Indeed, as you watch the men who have become your family over the past eight years, you’re struck by the pure joy radiating from them. Their focus is entirely on Nessa, their own achievements and rivalries forgotten in their shared pride for this little girl who has somehow become the center of their world.

As the final lap approaches, Nessa is still in the lead, but with another driver close on her tail. The tension among the group reaches fever pitch.

“Come on, Nessa,” Fernando murmurs, his eyes never leaving the track. “You’ve got this. Stay focused.”

“Defend the inside line,” Carlos advises, as if she could hear him. “Don’t give them any space.”

The last corner approaches, and the second-place kart makes a desperate lunge for the inside line. For a moment, it looks like Nessa might be overtaken at the last second.

“No, no, no,” Alex mutters, his hands clenched into fists.

But Nessa holds her nerve, taking a slightly wider line and using her momentum to slingshot out of the corner and across the finish line, just ahead of her rival.

The eruption of cheers from the group of F1 drivers drowns out even the sound of the karts. They jump, hug each other, and pump their fists in the air as if Nessa had just won the World Drivers’ Championship.

As Nessa brings her kart to a stop in the pit area, she’s immediately surrounded by her fathers, each clamoring to be the first to congratulate her.

“That was incredible, little love!” Lewis exclaims, helping her out of the kart.

“You drove like a champion,” Max adds, his face split by an enormous grin.

“I’m so proud of you, mon petit champion,” Charles says, pulling her into a tight hug.

The other parents watch in amazement as Nessa is passed from one racing legend to another, each offering praise, analysis, and suggestions for improvement in equal measure.

“I can’t believe what I’m seeing,” one father mutters to his wife. “How is this fair? That kid has a whole F1 pit crew!”

His wife shushes him, but nods in agreement, her eyes wide as she watches the scene unfold.

Meanwhile, you make your way through the crowd of excited drivers to reach your daughter. As you approach, the men part to let you through, their chatter dying down.

You kneel in front of Nessa, taking in her flushed cheeks and bright eyes. “How do you feel, sweetheart?” You ask softly.

Nessa’s face breaks into a wide grin. “That was amazing! Did you see when I overtook on the hairpin? And the last corner, I thought for sure he was going to pass me, but I remembered what Papa Fernando said about late apexes, and it worked!”

You laugh, pulling her into a hug. “I saw it all, baby. You were incredible.”

As you release her, Nessa looks around at the circle of beaming faces surrounding her. “Did I make you proud?” She asks, a hint of her earlier nervousness returning.

“Proud doesn’t even begin to cover it,” Sebastian says, ruffling her hair affectionately.

“You exceeded all our expectations,” Fernando adds with a warm smile.

“And trust me,” Lando chimes in with a wink, “our expectations were pretty high to begin with.”

As Nessa basks in the praise and attention of her unconventional family, a race official approaches, looking slightly overwhelmed.

“Excuse me,” he says hesitantly, “but we need to do the podium ceremony now.”

The drivers reluctantly step back, allowing Nessa to follow the official to the makeshift podium. As she takes her place on the top step, her face beaming with pride, you find yourself surrounded by eleven grown men, each looking as proud as if they had just won a world championship themselves.

“You know,” Oscar says softly, his eyes never leaving Nessa as she receives her trophy, “I think we might be in trouble.”

“What do you mean?” You ask, turning to look at him.

He grins, a mixture of pride and mock fear in his eyes. “If she’s this good at eight, can you imagine what she’ll be like at eighteen? We might be out of jobs.”

The group chuckles, but there’s a note of truth in Oscar’s words. As you watch Nessa on the podium, her small hands raised in triumph, you can’t help but wonder what the future holds for this extraordinary little girl with her eleven F1 driver fathers.

But for now, as the sound of applause fills the air and you see the pure joy on Nessa’s face, you push those thoughts aside. There will be time enough for worrying about the future later. For now, you’re content to bask in this moment of triumph, surrounded by the most unconventional and wonderful family you could have ever imagined.

As Nessa runs back to the group, her trophy clutched tightly in her hands, she’s enveloped in a group hug that threatens to lift her off her feet. And in that moment, watching the pure love and pride radiating from these men who have given your daughter so much more than just their DNA, you know that no matter what challenges lie ahead, Nessa will always have the strongest support system imaginable.

After all, with her fathers in her corner, how can she possibly fail?

[5sospenguinqueen]

A Million Kisses - Arthur Leclerc x Reader

Summary: You and Arthur have spent your entire life terrorising Charles. But when he turns the tables on you, bringing up a topic you’ve largely ignored since your teenaged years, the dynamic changes.

Warnings: Swearing. Fluff. Bullying Charles

2024 timeline. Pinterest pics. Childhood friends to lovers trope

F1 Masterlist

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scuderiaferrari just posted

liked by its_yn_ln, arthur_leclerc and others 

scuderiaferrari just friday things 

1,997 comments

pierregasly you all know what’s coming

user1 oh dear, not a charles post

its_yn_ln another day, another thirst trap. bet he posted this himself

arthur_leclerc not what i wanted to see when i opened up my phone 

→ its_yn_ln agreed, i think i’ve gone blind 

user2 every charles post summons yn and and arthur

arthur_leclerc where’s the carlos content? only reason i followed

→ charles_leclerc i’d like both of you to piss off

→ its_yn_ln that’s not a nice way to talk to your fans 

alexandrasaintmleux 💕

→ its_yn_ln did charles force you to write that so that it seemed like somebody liked him?

→ arthur_leclerc don’t be silly, yn. he took her phone and wrote it himself 

user3 not the terror twins at it again

user4 poor charles has been suffering from this ever since he joined f1

→ user5 and prior, it just wasn't as well documented lol 

user6 i bet charles begs admin to cancel his posts because he lives in fear of the comments

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charles_leclerc just posted

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, pierregasly and others

charles_leclerc beach days 

1,616 comments 

pierregasly looking good, brother (but i’m praying for you for when they see this) 

its_yn_ln and i thought narcissus loved himself 

→ charles_leclerc i miss the days before arthur befriended you 

→ arthur_leclerc so before we were both born?

→ charles_leclerc exactly 

scuderiaferrari making the most of summer break

→ user7 he’s actually begging for you to take him back so that he doesn’t have to spend another minute with yn and arthur 

its_yn_ln put your chitties away 

→ user8 when people ask me what my fav part of f1 is, i show them yn’s comments 

arthur_leclerc not shown is charles eating waves every two seconds 

→ charles_leclerc still did better than you. you wouldn’t stop staring at yn long enough to concentrate on the waves 

→ user9 what did he sayyyy

→ user10 my ynarthur heart is screaming

→ user11 um, guys, who else thinks there’s truth to this

→ user12 no because they have NEVER let charles have the last comment yet neither clap back at this??

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its_yn_ln just posted

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, francisca.cgomes and others 

its_yn_ln as charles once said, beach days ☀️ although my post is better because it has me and arthur in it 

965 comments

arthur_leclerc anything is better with us and not charles 

→ its_yn_ln more fun too 

→ arthur_leclerc that’s just me, chérie

→ user14 i’m not screaming, you are 

alexandrasaintmelux belle fille

→ its_yn_ln pas comparé à toi. still not sure what you’re doing with charles

→ alexandrasaintmleux doesn’t she look gorgeous @/arthur_leclerc?

→ arthur_leclerc you and charles deserve each other

charles_leclerc and no thank you to the brother who lent you his yacht for your date? 

→ alexandrasaintmleux bébé, it is not a date? remember they made it quite clear

→ charles_leclerc all i’m saying is i do not look at or touch my friends like that 

→ joris_trouche be weird if you did

→ charles_leclerc see @/its_yn_ln weird 

→ its_yn_ln blocked 

francisca.cgomes stunning

→ its_yn_ln marry me?

→ pierregasly @/arthur_leclerc come get your girl 

→ its_yn_ln don’t you fucking start 

oscarpiastri was he holding your hand so you didn’t fall into the water?

→ arthur_leclerc it’s what any good friend would do 

user15 yn and arthur seem to be getting awfully defensive lately 👀

→ user16 no. they’ve always talked about how annoying it is to be accused of being more than friends so how about you don’t contribute to that 

→ user17 yeah but things between them seem to be different lately and now the drivers are publicly commenting on it? 

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arthur_leclerc just posted

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri and others 

arthur_leclerc from 2 months to 22 years. it’s been a delight to share every special moment with you. happy birthday, mon problème 🥳🤍

1,027 comments 

its_yn_ln i can’t believe you dug out that baby photo 😭 i look forward to another year with you by my side x

its_yn_ln although waking up to find out you had broken into my apartment and filled it with balloons was a bit of a shock

→ charles_leclerc you might need to get used to seeing that ugly mug first thing in the morning

→ user1 what does this mean?! 

lilymhe okay but the tiara and the shades? iconic

→ its_yn_ln i’m an icon

→ charles_leclerc that’s not how you translate diva 

alexandrasaintmleux happy birthday, yn. can’t wait to see you at dinner later

→ its_yn_ln can my birthday present be you leaving charles at home?

pierregasly happy birthday, yn. drinks on me later

→ its_yn_ln okay, you’re forgiven for teaming up with charles

→ pierregasly i’m not team charles. i’m team ynarthur

→ charles_leclerc we had shirts made

→ arthur_leclerc not today, guys. 

→ user2 oo he used a full stop. he’s pissed

user3 guys, do we think the baby is just a phrase like ‘chaos baby’ or a pet name?

user4 arthur truly is the epitome of ‘if he wanted to, he would’

→ user5 never saw him put in this much effort for any of his previous relationships but yn gets the full princess treatment 

user6 anyone else see that arthur liked @/PastryMan’s tweet about yn

→ user7 okay but let’s not read too much into it. he could just appreciate the compliment fans are giving to his best friend instead of the usual hate people associated with drivers get 

→ user8 also, he was likely highly intoxicated last night lol. pr training vanishes at that point

→ user9 or, hear me out, like his brother and close friends are suggesting, he’s in love with yn 

user10 okay but proof or it didn’t happen @/NoRizz. you wouldn’t be the first one to spread gossip about drivers 

→ user11 okay, i take back my previous comment. i have since seen proof

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charles_leclerc just posted

liked by pierregasly, francisca.cgomes and others

charles_leclerc let’s take a moment to appreciate my photography skills. (oh, and the fact that i am a genius and should not be doubted or ridiculed again) tagged: its_yn_ln, arthur_leclerc 

2,024 comments 

its_yn_ln insert ‘i am stupid’ charles radio here. even YOU think you’re stupid and like you said, we shouldn’t argue with you 

→ charles_leclerc i hate you 

→ its_yn_ln okay but i distinctly remember you asking to be my maid of honour yesterday so…? fake news 

arthur_leclerc can’t really boast about your photography skills when these are all grainy/blurry 

→ charles_leclerc i hate you 

→ arthur_leclerc you literally cried when you caught us sleeping

→ its_yn_ln so loud that it woke us up 

→ user12 he really is their #1 stan

francisca.cgomes the cutest couple 

→ pierregasly what about us?

→ its_yn_ln you don’t deserve her

→ pierregasly what did i do? 

→ pierregasly you should be thanking us! if not for our torment, you and arthur never would’ve been forced to confront your feelings

lilymhe tell that man to get his hands off my wife

→ its_yn_ln look away! it was a moment of weakness 

→ arthur_leclerc she’s loved me for 22 years. she’s only known you for 5, back off

its_yn_ln bébé, why is your brother so obsessed with us?

→ arthur_leclerc he has nothing better to do

→ charles_leclerc merde, i thought sucking each other’s faces would keep you too preoccupied to attack me

→ arthur_leclerc never

→ its_yn_ln well, maybe if you stopped taking pics of us when we did, we’d be more inclined to 

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

Requests for F1 smau's are open. You can see who I write for on my masterlist :)

[bleedingoptimism]

“I’m sorry Steve, I thought we were just having fun! I enjoyed you taking me out and paying for everything that’s all…” Is what Shelley said to him when Steve walked into the bar and saw her flirting with another guy. 

Obviously, he smiled and shook his head, said everything was okay, ‘Just a silly misunderstanding’ and left, ever so graceful. But the second he was outside he cursed, tried not to shed a tear, failed, and then started laughing. 

He probably looks like a mad man, or a drunk. But no, don’t worry people, he’s not drunk or crazy, he’s just really, really stupid. He thought Shelley really liked him, he thought they were dating. And Shelley just assumed he was just another playboy so she played him back. He’s not even mad at her. She didn't mean to hurt him. It’s not her fault Steve is just so easy to hurt. 

Sighing, he gets his phone out to get an uber and hugs himself even though it’s not really that cold outside, waiting for his car, already imagining the big, greasy burger he’s going to order when he gets home. He deserves it, okay?

The car that pulls out has definitely seen better days, but it’s clean and comfortable so Steve doesn’t think twice about getting in. He offers the driver a smile through the rearview mirror, sparing a moment to notice his eyes are big and dark, and they crinkle when he smiles back at him. 

Steve sits stiff and straight for a moment before realizing no one is there to judge him right now and he deflates, sighing again and letting himself collapse against the seat. Still hugging himself to feel any sort of comfort, he bumps his head against the window softly a couple of times. 

“Long night?” The driver asks him in a friendly manner.

Steve meets his eyes in the rearview again and shrugs, smiling back crookedly “Thought I should go home early since I already accomplished making an ass of myself for the night”

He checks the uber app for the driver’s name, doesn’t want to be rude by not remembering. ‘Eddie’ chuckles at Steve's statement.

“You did, huh? Well good job on getting it out of the way then,”

Steve chuckles back, “Yeah, I was actually thinking I deserve a treat”

He notices Eddie looking back at him a couple of times before breathing an interested, “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, “A huge cheesy burger or something” Wondering what Eddie was thinking he’d say.

Eddie laughs again, “Oh! Right of course” and just when he’s about to say something else his phone rings.

“Oh, sorry” Eddie murmurs, immediately hanging up on whoever is calling. 

“No worries,” Steve mumbles back, sitting up a little straighter again. 

“So, what’s your favorite dirty burger place?” Eddie asks him. 

Steve can tell he’s trying to distract him from the mood he entered the car with and he really appreciates it.

He sits forward and leans his forearms against the headrest of the passenger seat, “Oh, there’s so many, but…” from this angle, he can see Eddie’s face better, and he can’t help but think he’s got a really nice looking profile, long lashes, full lips, and the cutest nose he’s ever seen, “I think Benny’s the best one” he finishes.

Eddie pulls at a stop light and turns to look at him with a smile and he’s so much prettier than Steve first thought he involuntarily gasps. But thankfully Eddie is talking excitedly and doesn’t seem to notice.

“No way you know Benny’s?! Benny is my uncle! Well, he’s married to my uncle actually- you know what I mean but yeah, Benny’s is great!” 

It’s such a weird coincidence that it managed to take Steve out of his stupor and he’s suddenly just as excited as Eddie,

“Really? Oh my god, I’m so jealous right now, I wished I could live at Benny’s sometimes” 

Eddie laughs, and just when he opens his mouth to reply his phone rings again. This time he doesn’t immediately hang up and Steve sees the screen light up with the name “you deserve better” 

Ouch, he thinks, and his heartstrings tug for his cute, sweet, uber driver. Who offered him friendly conversation cause he noticed he was feeling down and has the most beautiful laugh. He doesn't really know why he feels so strongly about it, he doesn't even know Eddie… but he still feels the text is right. Whoever hurt him, Eddie deserved better.

“Hey,” He says softly when Eddie hangs up cursing.

Eddie sighs again, “I’m so sorry,” 

“Hey, no. It’s fine,” Steve replies, resisting the urge to place a comforting hand on his shoulder.

He figures, after the way his night started, he’s got nothing to lose so he says, “So much talk about Benny’s I feel like I need to go there right now.” 

Eddie let’s out a distracted “Huh?” and Steve soldiers on, “Wanna change the destination and join me? You can take me home after,”

He notices Eddie doing a double take and blushing, “Really? I- Am- I- okay” he stammers but Steve can’t really figure out why.

“Yeah, you know, that way you don’t lose time on the job and have another ride?” He finishes and Eddie laughs,

“Oh, right. Yeah That- makes sense”

They keep talking about their favorite things on the menu on the way there and soon they are sitting face to face in a booth at Benny’s.

What a pair they make, Steve in a three piece suit, jacket off, vest undone and shirt rolled up to his forearms. And Eddie with sweats and a hoodie. 

Eddie is even better looking in the shitty dinner light and the blush that adorns his cheeks ever since they came in makes Steve wanna kiss them to feel their warmth.

Benny himself comes to take their order, and Eddie gets up to hug him and introduces him to Steve. They already know each other, because Steve does come to the dinner often and Benny lets Eddie know that.

Eddie thinks it's hilarious that they both have been here so much and never saw each other before, but Steve can’t help to think it’s a shame.

“I actually would’ve loved to have met you sooner,” he tells Eddie at one point and watches curiously as Eddie’s blush turns a few shades darker.

As they eat, Steve tells Eddie about Shelley, about his hopes, about misreading the situation, about his shame. How he doesn’t even think he liked Shelley that much, but he just wanted to have something real. Eddie gets mad at him for blaming himself, tells him it wasn’t his fault, that he’s being too hard on himself. And it’s not a bad thing to consider but all Steve can think about is how cute Eddie looks when he’s mad on his behalf.

Eventually, Eddie tells Steve about whoever was calling him. 

“I met him at my last job. I thought he was so cool but turns out he was actually just cold,” Eddie shrugs, “We dated for like 6 months or something, not that long but, I was miserable the whole time and I didn’t even realize it was because of him.” 

Eddie’s hand is tearing up a paper napkin between them and Steve tentatively settles his hand over Eddie’s, who stops destroying the napkin and smiles gratefully at Steve, holding his hand back.

“The worst part is I didn’t even break up with him, he broke up with me,” Eddie chuckles self-deprecatingly, “But he still wanted to keep me around I guess… And I… didn’t want to feel lonely” 

They both stay quiet for a moment after that, and Steve stares at their hands joined over the greasy dinner table and thinks about loneliness, about how he doesn't feel it right now, with Eddie.

“So, what happened?” he asks after a bit.

“I did eventually realize he was the one making me feel like shit so I stopped seeing him but he didn’t appreciate my new sense of self-respect,” Eddie says lightly and Steve instinctively squeezes his hand protectively, which makes Eddie smile again, “I’m doing just fine now though, I told him to fuck off and got a new job. And it’s actually pretty good, ya know?”

Steve can’t help but smile back at Eddie’s cute expression, “Yeah?”

“Hell yeah, my own hours? Good money? Plus I’ve always liked driving around, it calms me. And I get to meet really interesting people…” he says, winking at Steve and making him chuckle.

“Well, I’m glad then. Proud of you for getting out of there,”

“Me too,” Eddie says and looks up as Benny walks over to them.

“Sorry to interrupt boys, but we are about to close for the night,” He says, stifling a yawn.

Steve looks surprised at his watch, it’s almost 2 A.M. He can’t believe he’s been sitting here with Eddie for hours when it only felt like a few minutes.

He offers to cover the bill but Benny fights him over it and says it’s his treat. And Eddie offers to take him home no charge. So they get in Eddie’s car again only this time Steve sits next to him instead of in the back and they talk about music on their way to his place while Steve changes the radio stations. Laughing, singing and joking around, it’s such a good time. It feels like they’ve been doing this forever, like they could do this…forever. But eventually they arrive at Steve’s building and suddenly Steve doesn’t want the night to end. 

He’s about to tell Eddie as much, maybe invite him inside, when his phone rings again, the ‘you deserve better’ staring at them. But Eddie immediately grabs his phone and hangs up, blocking the number after. 

“There, he can’t call me again,” he says with a sigh.

“Can I see your phone for a second?” Steve ventures, making a last second decision.

Eddie looks surprised but curious as he hands it over and Steve punches his phone in.

“If you ever feel like unblocking him, or calling him back… Why don’t you try calling me instead?” he says in a rush and then walks out of the car, not lingering to see Eddie’s reaction.

There’s always the positivity that he got things wrong again, got too invested too soon again and he doesn’t want to know tonight. He’ll deal with it later, if Eddie doesn't call.

🚗📱🍔💙

It takes only two days for Steve’s phone to ring, an unknown number flashing on his screen. He picks it up feeling a little out of breath for no reason at all.

“Hello?” 

“Steve?”

“Eddie, I”

“Wait- before you say anything I just want you to know that I didn’t call because I wanted to call him, or I was thinking about him. I called because I can’t stop thinking about you, I wanted to talk to you. Okay?”

“Eddie- yes! It’s more than okay, I- I was hoping you’d call”

fin 💙

☕🥐💕 coffee? oovoo javer?

[esouliie]

DON’T YOU LOVE THE DEVIL?

– pairing | wanda maximoff x fem!reader

– synopsis | wanda was everything you wanted in a mom. she was kind and loving, even to those who weren’t her own children. she, however, loved you in a very different way…

– warnings | porn with plot, non con that turns kinda dub con, smut, mommy kink, spanking, thigh riding, overstimulation, aftercare, wanda is a perv lmao (18+)

[word count: 3.4k]

Summer was always your favourite time. It meant avid beach trips, ice cream dates and - most importantly - bestie sleepovers. You enjoyed staying at Natasha's house, which was much larger than yours. Wanda, her mother, was always very kind to you, even more so than your own. Because of this, throughout high school, you found yourself always at the Maximoff’s. When you were going through a difficult time, you would always turn to her for support; she was a solid shoulder to cry on as her hushed whispers soothed you.

Much like your house, Natasha’s dad was never in the picture. And because Wanda never seemed to date, it was always just them two and sometimes you. Their house was your safe haven and Wanda was your beckoning angel. Now in your last year of college, you still find yourself coming to the older woman…

Countless nights, you wished she was your mom instead.

Reaching into your pocket, you fumble around for the front key, feeling its familiar shape between your fingertips.

This was your usual routine – Natasha would text when she was nearly home from work, and you’d arrive shortly after, letting yourself in with the spare key she had given you months ago.

The door swings open with a soft creak, revealing the warmth of the home beyond. The living room is empty, just the faint hum of the TV can be heard.

As you step into the kitchen, the warm aroma of burnt vanilla envelops you. Wanda stands against the island, dressed in a large, red sweater and black skirt, with one hand scrolling through her phone as the other holds a glass of red wine. She looked radiant as ever. A grown woman confident in her own skin and her ability.

“Hey, Wanda.”

She places her phone down and greets you warmly. “Hey there, sweetheart. How are you?”

“I’m good.” You take a seat next to her and she busies herself with pouring you a glass of red. You watch her, marvelling at how effortlessly she moves around the kitchen, her movements always graceful and fluid.

"So," Wanda begins, setting the glass in front of you, "another bestie sleepover?"

“Yep! Natasha’s going to be busy with Bucky next week so we’re spending as much time together.”

Wanda scoffs at the mention of her daughter’s partner, “Yeah, she said something about going to his parent’s lake house for the week.”

You hum, reaching for a sip of the wine, awkward in the revelation of Wanda’s distaste for her daughter’s boyfriend. I mean, it’s not like you like him either. You hate him actually. He was always so weird about your friendship with the redhead, always starting arguments around how much you guys hang out together and how he thinks you have a crush on her.

Plus, Natasha was way out of his league and he sometimes treated her like shit. It was only last week when Natasha was complaining about how they had an argument during their date and Bucky left her to find her own way home…

“I really don’t know what she sees in him.”

You sigh, setting the glass back down. “Me neither. He’s an asshole.”

Lost in thought, you fail to notice Wanda’s approach until an arm laid upon your shoulder, and a hand twirled around your curls.

“You know, I always thought Natasha would end up with you.”

Shocked by her confession, you try to respond - to deny that nothing would ever happened - but your mouth is unable to move as her nails scratch against your neck.

Wanda settles down in the stool beside you, hand retreating to stroke down your arm.

"I just don't understand. He’s boring and doesn’t deserve Tasha, whereas, you’re… you’re so much better than him.” She admits softly, her gaze fixed on you.

"You’re so much more than him.”

You shrug, expelling a shaky breath as you watch her manicured nail draw patterns against your exposed skin.

Silence envelopes you both, Wanda deep in thought and you pretend to act calm about the fact that Wanda’s touch has trailed down to your hands, resting in your lap.

“You know if I were her…” Her breath flutters against your ear, “I wouldn’t even think about anyone else… when I have you.”

Your heart skips a beat at her admission.

"I..." you begin, your voice catching in your throat as you struggle to articulate the jumble of thoughts and emotions swirling within you.

It felt so wrong, and yet you didn’t want her to stop.

To keep stroking your hand,

To keep whispering in your ear.

To keep close to you.

“I think… I want to kiss you.” Wanda murmurs, her thumb gently running over your lips.

But before you could say anything, she leaned in, her lips meeting yours in a soft, tentative kiss.

“So pretty.” She whispers, lips closing in once again, but the sudden closing of a door upstairs startles you both as you pull away. Eyes wide in fear that Natasha could’ve seen you kissing her mom.

Wanda leaves her seat, an unreadable expression on her face, and disappears into the living room, Natasha’s thundering footsteps break you from looking at her as she comes downstairs. Her hair is wet, her bangs clinging to her forehead. She must’ve been in the shower.

“You made it!” Natasha exclaims before briefly hugging you and dragging you with her upstairs, “Come on. Let’s watch a movie.”

…

A few hours later, and a few movies down, you end up back in the kitchen, in search of a drink. You spot Wanda in the living room watching a show, her presence both comforting and unnerving. No longer elegantly dressed, she lounges in a maroon satin night gown. The thin fabric barely covers her long legs as it glows complimentarily against her pale skin.

Summoning as much courage, you take a seat on the other end of the sofa. The drink long forgotten. She recognises your presence but you both don’t say anything, engrossed in some reality show on TV. This distraction works for a while but then, like a shadow in the morning sun, the memory of the kiss surfaces. Heat blossoms against your cheeks but you feel it weighing on your mind, a heavy burden demanding acknowledgement.

“Wanda,” your voice so quiet she almost didn’t hear it, ‘I think we should talk about earlier.”

With a delayed hum, she turns towards you, waiting patiently for you to continue. Your words stumble out clumsily, faltering as you try to convey the complexity of your emotions. You want to explain that the kiss was wrong, that she was your best friend’s mom and that nothing like that could happen again, but you don’t want to hurt her feelings in the process.

Her expression was unreadable, you could almost hear the pounding of your own heart, the uncertainty hanging thick in the air between you. And then, finally, she speaks.

“I’m sorry, darling. I thought- it was silly and inappropriate of me.” She reaches over to briefly squeeze your hand.

“Let’s forget it happened.”

You exhale with relief, “Yeah, okay. Thank you.”

Quick to change the conversation and clear the awkward tension, Wanda asks, “How come you’re down here anyways? Where’s Natasha?”

“Oh she fell asleep.” You giggle at the unattractive image of your best friend, snoring somewhat loudly and taking up your side of the bed.

“Besides, I’m not really tired, so I thought I’d come down for a drink.”

Wanda hums, a smile on her face at the sight of you giggling so cutely.

But you notice her hands run over bare arms, soothing the goosebumps and the slight shiver, “Are you cold?”

She looks at you for a moment, eyes taking in your concerned features before she nods.

“I’ll get you a blanket.” You move to stand but a grip on your wrist halts you.

“Don’t bother. Just sit here.”

She leans back against the pillows, legs parting slightly. Your brows furrow in confusion.

She tugs your wrist softly, “Don’t think, just come here.”

She pulls you to sit between her thighs, flush against her front as she winds her arms around you. It wasn’t uncommon being hugged by the older woman but it’s never been like this. But despite earlier, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of comfort wash over you. The room even felt cosier now all that tension was gone. So, you lean back into her embrace, feeling her steady heartbeat against your back and her warm thighs brush against yours.

“Hm, much better. You’ve always run hot.” Her face snuggles into your curls and you giggle.

Her large hands dip, holding softly onto your hips, pulling you even closer with a silent groan, before descending to your thighs. A shiver of anticipation runs down your spine, but you maintain composure, thinking nothing of the surely innocent touch as you focus on the TV screen in front of you.

Her touch is gentle, sending a warm current through your body with each stroke. You feel your legs widen, following in the direction of her strokes, not wanting the caress to stop. The show on the TV fades into the background as your attention becomes solely fixated on her.

She leans in closer, her breath warm against your ear as she whispers, “Pretty girl... feels good, doesn’t it?”

You nod, allowing yourself to melt further into her embrace, your head resting against her shoulder instead of watching her hands.

Wanda tuts, “No, baby, head up.”

A single hand moves from your thigh to hold the back of your head, forcing you to look down at your entwined legs. Another hand wanders higher than expected, tracing small circles into your inner thigh, jarring you out of your trance as you go to wiggle free from her grip. “Wanda… that’s-”

Your speech is cut off as fingers slip under your shorts, and you gasp, squirming with renewed vigour. But her hold refuses even the feeblest motions as she wraps an arm around your waist.

“Wanda… please!”

“Don’t think, baby.” She warns again, fingers gliding further into your shorts. “Just let yourself feel good.”

You fight harder, hips snapping away from her touch as hands pry at her wrist. “Get off me!”

“No, you’re not getting up.” You squirm again, and without warning, she digs her nails harshly into your soft skin. “I said, you’re not getting up.”

You whimper in pain and stop your movement. Instantly, her nails pull back from your skin, leaving red angry crescent marks. Those fingertips gently caress the marks to soothe them before moving up under your shirt.

“Good girl.” Those words bring an odd warmth to your body and suddenly you think that letting Wanda have her way with you couldn’t be as bad as you initially thought…

But light fingers caressing up and down your stomach, inching closer to your breasts reminded you of the position you’re in.

This was your best friend’s mom.

Natasha didn’t deserve this.

“Wanda, we can’t… it’s not right. What about Nat-?”

“It’s fine, princess.” She interrupts, placing a few chaste kisses against your neck. “She won’t find out.”

Suddenly, those hands slide up over your bare breasts and gently squeeze. You take in a deep breath and exhale slowly with a soft whimper. Pleased with the response, she begins to knead them kindly alternating between light and firm pressure.

“You like that, baby?” Wanda coos then nibbles on the side of your ear, descending your neck carefully to not leave bites and marks in place.

Your back arches slightly, pressing your breasts deeper into her adept grasp, and your defiance fades ever so quickly with each breathy moan.

“Hm, so needy, so responsive…” thumbs swipes over your perked nipples, “and all I’m doing is playing with your tits, princess.”

Your increased whines answer in reply and Wanda doesn’t bother wasting time anymore. Lifting a hand from its spot under your top, she glides down under your shorts. Her lithe fingers ghost over the soaked underwear, travelling low enough to feel the wetness seep from your slit, and she moans lowly at the sensation. “You’re so wet… fuck, is this all for me?”

Battling between not wanting this and giving in to her, you also fight the urge to thrust your hips upwards, to search for some needed friction, to end the maddening ache between your thighs.

The older woman’s light touches feel like heaven and hell as nimble fingers slide up and down the fabric that clung to you, purposely missing where you needed her most.

“That’s it, baby. Relax… let go for me.”

A strange fuzziness washes over you completely as you relax - moral sobriety long forgotten - as your legs spread apart limply for Wanda to grope in every direction.

 “M’kay.” You reply, barely hearing yourself, lost in the moment.

Wanda sighs contently, forever pleased she’s put you in this headspace with such little fight.

Focusing back on your neck, she licks along the flushed skin, and as she bites against your pulse a little harder, the slight pain has you quivering.

You melt into the warm heat below you, head resting against a firm shoulder, as you let out a moan laced with pleasure and slight frustration. Hips bucking slightly back into Wanda’s hoping she’d take the hint and get on with it.

The quicker you gave her what she wanted, the quicker it would be done.

Finally, her index finger slides higher, the tip of her nail just brushing against your clit slightly. Your thighs shake at the motion, wanting to clamp shut around her but never doing so in fear she would stop. A cry falls from your mouth in surprise as her finger finally reaches, circling your swollen nerve endings in a slow yet firm motion.

Your words stumble out clumsily, unable to string a full sentence together as Wanda practically purrs against your ear.

“Oh, you’re doing so well, baby.” She coos, before pressing open-mouthed kisses against your jaw, “So well for me… come here.”

Tipping your neck up, she dips forward, pressing her hot lips against your own. A choked note of dismay comes from you as Wanda forces your mouth open and shoves her tongue inside. The older woman dominates the clashing of tongues, making sure that you know your place.

You fail to notice Wanda pull your shorts and panties down from your hips until her fingers press against you harder, and you can’t help but grind against it with such aching desperation. She marvels over how pathetic you look… one minute begging for her to stop and now humping against her like a bitch in heat, swallowing her tongue down your throat.

Such a depraved mental image and yet it only feeds into her desire for you.

To claim you as hers, no matter if you wanted it or not.

Because she didn’t care.

She could feel herself getting wetter, as she met your grinding with her own thrusts, your ass pressing flush against her soaked panties.

The kiss eventually comes to an end, a few hungry strands of saliva briefly clinging to your lips, linking you together. Wanda gazes lovingly at the sight of you, a growing smile on her lips, as you writhe in building pleasure.

“Can you look at me, princess?”

Wanda asks in a sultry tone and you struggle to open your eyes, squinting against the light as her blurry face comes into focus. Her pupils are blown out, partly consuming those emerald irises, her cheeks painted a flushed pink, and her lips part as she pants freely.

She looks so beautiful.

Her green eyes shine clouded over in a different colour than Natasha’s…

Natasha.

Dread seeps into your bones, your body ripped from its relaxed trance as you recall your best friend and how she’s sleeping upstairs as you’re fucked by her mom.

You don’t want to think about how upset she would be to find you like this.

“Baby…” She reels your mind back to focus on her, noticing you’re beginning to spiral. “You ready to come for me?”

Her fingers speed up perfectly but you shook your head in defiance, your mind no longer free to just enjoy Wanda’s touch.

“No,” she coos, “you don’t want to come for me, baby? Don’t want to come for Mommy?”

A whiny no leaves your lips, not giving in to the beautiful temptress behind you.

Annoyed, Wanda rolls her eyes, clearly upset that you wouldn’t just give in to her and that you’re not nestled in that special little headspace anymore.

Without warning, she twists your thigh over the other, ass on show as she lashes out with a sharp slap. You cry out at the unexpected blow, your hands grabbing tightly onto whatever part of the woman you can reach. You weren’t sure if you were trying to push her away or pull her close.

“I thought we were done with that, baby.” She unleashes a few more spanks, “Thought you were going to be my good girl, hm?”

You gasp for air at the same time Wanda gropes your marked flesh, pulling your cheeks apart as she rubs in soothing circles. The breath turns into a choked moan as Wanda spanks you one more time, before returning you to your original position, back to pressing firm circles against your clit.

Once again, you fight her touch. Hips wiggling in each direction until ankles wrap around your legs, locking you in place.

Tight circles turn to quick taps, the once pleasing hand now bringing pain upon your pussy in rapid succession, not allowing you to writhe in her generosity for too long before returning to cruelty.

A beautiful blend that muddled all of your defying thoughts until there was nothing left.

Your body betrayed your mind. Your legs fell completely limp, as you lay at the mercy of the older woman. Taking whatever she deemed necessary to give.

Finally, she had you.

“I don’t care if you don’t want to. You’re going to cum all over my fingers for me.” She concludes with a kiss on your cheek.

And not caring if you cry loud enough to wake up the rest of the house, her fingers speed up for the last time, sending you headfirst over the edge.

…

After what felt like hours, Wanda was done with you. You had moved into her bedroom, deciding the sofa was not adequate to continue. Now her head rests against your stomach after she had spread you open to lap up your next orgasm.

Your body spasms randomly, wave after wave of aftershock rolling over you. A warm hand cups your core firmly, and you buck away from the sensitivity, not wanting her touch anymore. But her fingers remain, gliding slowly up and down your slit, marvelling at your swollen skin, before pushing against your entrance.

You’re overwhelmed. What little fight you have left mentally can’t keep up with the fatigue of your exhausted body. If she wanted to, she could have her way with you. Again and again. Fresh tears fall from your eyes as you sob inconsolably into hands covering your face.

Wanda leaves you be, moving up your body to grab onto your wrists.

“Hey, baby… it’s okay, you’re okay…” she coos, fingertips wiping away your tears, “Mommy went too hard on you, didn’t she?”

You struggle to find the words, and Wanda shushes you, stopping you from thinking too much in such a delicate headspace.

You feel movement, feel Wanda get off you, and your eyes snap open in a slight panic but she sits beside you and swiftly draws you onto her lap.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Don’t cry.” She says gently, reeling you in with false empathy. She was glad she pushed you too hard you broke.

“Mommy couldn’t help herself.”

You scoot closer, close enough to bury your head into her neck as fingers trail up and down your back.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you, baby. Can you forgive me?”

Her soothing words are music to your ears as you whimper softly against the woman, not willing to talk or move away. You just want her to hold you.

“Say it, princess. Say you forgive me.”

She guides you out of her neck to look at her.

“I forgive you.” You choke out, upset you’re no longer buried in her chest, as your hands run back to cover your eyes. Too ashamed to even look at her.

“Sweet girl, come here.” Wanda doesn’t wait, moving your hands to wrap around her neck as she kisses you hungrily, swallowing any little disapprovals as you push languidly against her chest, trying to force her mouth off of you.

It’s fine, it’s fine,” she ushers against your swollen lips, “I just want to make you feel better.”

You whine in disapproval but your arms wrap tighter around her.

“You love me, don’t you?” She whispers against your cheek, but doesn’t let you reply, as you choke on her tongue, stroking deep against yours.

“Say you love me, baby.” She moves to kiss your forehead, before moving down against your collarbone.

Hands groping your ass as she rocks you steady against her thigh.

“I love you,” a few tears burn down your throat as you hiccup,” I love you, I love you.”

Wanda mumbles her gratitude into your skin, fresh marks blooming against your chest as she fucks you against her.

“Keep saying you love me, baby.”

“I love you, I love you, I love you…” flies from your mouth in quick succession, your mind once again empty as the tell tale signs of another orgasm come into view.

“I love you too, princess.” She returns to your lips, tongue prodding past them as she coaxes your tongue into her mouth.

“Come on. Be good for me.”

It slams into you, body tense as you fall over the edge, pressing your face deep into her neck. She shushes you, not letting go of your body until the convulsions stop, and even then, you’re curled into her chest. Unwilling to part from her.

She allows you to sob freely, your body shaking uncontrollably as hands stroke all over until you calm down. Almost asleep in her arms.

A hand runs through your damp hair, “That’s it, baby. We’re done.”

“No more.” You mumble out, eyes already shut as exhaustion washes over.

“No more, baby. Go to sleep.” Wanda shifts you down her body, your face now against her chest, as she covers you both with her duvet.

Unable to resist any longer, you drift off in Wanda’s warm embrace.

[sunaluv]

Come get your man, come get your man!

In which someone has an obvious crush on your man

Feat: suna, nagi, ran, eren

Ignore the pairings I’m indecisive lols

SUNA RINTARO

“Hey you’re suna’s girlfriend right?” You looked up to see a girl with a stretched smile looking at you expectedly.

“Yeah, what’s up?” You asked, seeing no reason to be hostile yet.

“So nice to meet you! I sit next to him in english, you could say he’s kinda my english boyfriend,”

Oh.

You knew suna was attractive and you had a feeling this was inevitable, but that does not stop the shock of the situation.

“He told me about you, said you had a weird sense of humor,” you replied with a tight lipped smile.

‘He didn’t say that, he just said she was weird’ you thought.

“Omg so he does talk about me! It’s so weird, he like totally ignores me but it’s nice to know he talks to others about me,”

Now you were more amused than anything.

“But anyways, the reason I wanted to talk to you, girl to girl is that I think he might be into me a bit-not trying to sabotage your relationship it’s just… if it was me, I’d want someone to tell me.” She sat down next to you, putting an hand on your arm in faux comfort.

A voice called her name “what are you doing here.”

Like a deer caught in headlight, the girl stammered over her words “suna, I was just talking to your girlfriend about us.”

“There is no ‘us’” he deadpanned.

You watched amused as she accused suna of leading her on, saying how she kept borrowing pencils from her, or not moving his knee all the time when they’d touch and other absurd accusations on why he’s into her.

When she stormed off embarrassed and heartbroken, he sat next to you.

“Why did you intervene? I was having fun getting to know your english girlfriend,” you teased making him groan.

RAN HAITANI

“Omg you’re so pretty!”

Your boyfriend was on the other side of the nightclub dealing with who knows what as you smiled at the girl who had been gassing you for the past 2 minutes.

“I’m so glad stinky old ran found such a beauty like you, how did he cuff you?” She looked around as if searching for someone before leaning in close to speak over the booming music of the club.

“Just asking to check, he told you about us right?”

What us? “No he didn’t, what’s up with that?”

She sent an apologetic look. “He was here last week and we kinda…hooked up. Im not trying to be a homewrecker I just thought you should know.”

This liar, last week he had flown out with you on holiday for the week. You had arrived two days ago due to his business needing him.

But she didn’t need to know that.

“Omg no way, he’s cheating on me!” You faked hurt.

“Im sorry girl, I-“

“Why are you like this,” Your boyfriends strong groan cut into your conversation.

“Stop lying to her ran, she doesn’t deserve this! Come clean right now, you and I hooked up in that bathroom last we-“

“We weren’t in the country last week, dumbass.”

She froze and as if piecing everything together, she was about to fume at you. You knew she was lying and embarrassed her like that.

“You sly little-“

Before she could finish, ran was already pulling you away from her and leading you towards the back of the nightclub.

“I hate you by the way,” he sulked before you could even begin to poke fun at him.

NAGI SEISHIRO

You stared at your boyfriends ringing phone next to you, then back to said man who was absentmindedly clicking on his keyboard.

“Baby can you get that for me?”

You agreed, pressing accept on the incoming call from a random girls name that you’ve heard in passing from Nagi himself, nothing to be worried about, quite the opposite actually.

He keeps complaining about how she won’t leave him alone, but you defended the girl you didn’t know, saying maybe she was friendly.

Answering the call, a pretty girl sat infront of the window, neck angled so that the gold light shined on her face.

She obviously wasn’t expecting to see you, as she quickly adjusted her position to a more casual setting.

“Uhm hello, you must be sei’s friend, can you put him on the phone?” She asked, not hiding her distaste that your man wasn’t the one answering the phone.

“Girlfriend,” you corrected. “And he’s busy right now, I can get him to call you back if you want,”

She glared at you seeing you not let down. “Okay I guess. Just tell him it’s KK calling, he’ll come to me.”

You sent her a challenging look before relaying the message to the man three meters away from you nice and loud so she can hear.

“Hang up.” You saw her eyes widen and didn’t bother to hide your smile.

“What was that?” You asked.

He repeated himself, not realising she could still hear him, but before you could hang up, she had already done it, too embarrassed to face the girl who has what she wanted.

“You see what I mean now?”

EREN YEAGER

You stood in between the spread legs of your boyfriend in the party hosts kitchen as his big arms held your back to his chest. His long legs kicked the cabinets as he swung his legs, staring down the girl stood across the room.

“Why are you staring at me?” She asked giggling seductively.

“You’re being weird.”

“Whatever,” she smiled, rolling her eyes.

You fiddled with the necklace eren bought you for your anniversary, which seemed to get her attention.

“Cute chain girl,” she covered her annoyance with intrigue. “Did yeager boy here get it for you?”

You sent her a look, nodding to confirm.

“Omg that reminds me of this one time when we went on holiday together, you remember that ‘ren? When you bought me that cute set?” She batted her eyelashes at him.

You knew exactly what she was doing and it wasn’t going to work. It’s such a shame she had to act like this too, she was pretty, you’ll admit.

You trusted your man, he gave you a head up about the girl who leeched on to him, warning you about all the lies and deception she would try to drill in your mind.

“That was back in Spain right? He bought a extras while looking for this one right?” You smiled at her innocently.

“Wowwww, you told her about me eren? I’m so flattered” if she was pissed, and you knew she was, she didn’t show it.

“Mhm he told me all about you, about how you leech on to him at any chance you get.”

She let out loud, forced laughter “she’s a funny one yeager, make sure you keep a tight leash on this one.” She looked at you and you swore you saw her eye twitch.

The pair of you stayed silent as you watched her aggressively walk back towards the party.

“You’re better than me you know, if any of your guy friends started to act like that I would’ve beat his ass,”

You chuckled, turning in his hold to face him. “Good thing you were holding me because one more second and I would have.”

God he was so in love with you.

[norrizzandpia]

Heyy, hope you’re having a good day.

Don’t know if your requests are open but I really wanted to ask something. Could you write Oscar with baby fever, but like a lot, to the point that Lando knows about it and makes fun of him, and he is always trying to convince reader that they are ready to have a baby and how he would love to see her pregnant and obviously showing all the time vídeos o cute babies. Then to make it a little longer you could make some embarrassing moment of this baby fever, like Oscar getting flustered (or more lol) when seeing reader with a baby or like zac listening him saying some weird stuff, something like that yk. Then after months she accept. (If you are felling writing a little angst, you could write in the same one or another part, they trying to get pregnant but they can’t and Oscar gets very frustrated and ends up venting with Lando or so and little time later they discovered she is pregnant just to end in a cute way).

If you like the idea and decide to write it, feel free to make any changes you desire, I love your writing and I’m sure you’ll make my idea a thousand time better. Thank you <3

It is CRIMINAL how long it took me to answer this superb request.

Let’s Have A Baby, Baby (OP81)

Summary: There is nothing Oscar wants more than for Y/n to get pregnant with his kid, and everyone knows it.

Warnings: sexual conversations, language, Oscar has no filter at all, an extremely graphic and sexual conversation that has Zak traumatized (pray for him), tooth rotting fluff idk where any of this came from

Note: i didn’t put any angst in this because THIS WAS TOO CUTE TO ADD ANYTHING BAD THIS COUPLE DESERVES EVERY BIT OF HAPPINESS AND MORE WITHOUT ANY COMPLICATIONS I MEAN IT.

How do you tell someone having a child at the ripe age of 22 is not a good idea?

Y/n sat at the end of the bed, watching Oscar pace back and forth as he rambled about how much he wanted to get her pregnant.

“Baby, you’d look so pretty. Please? You know how good the sex would be.” He turned toward her, eyes holding hers as he looked at her with his persuasive doe eyes.

Y/n groaned as her head fell back, “Osc, the sex is already good. Why do we need to add a child to the mix?”

Oscar fell to the floor, kneeling in front of her with his hands resting on her knees as he tilted his head, “Because it’ll be fun! And you could dress them up in little clothes and…” He trailed off, his eyes shifting toward the floor before meeting hers once more, “We’d be a family.”

Y/n’s lip pouted out, emotions running strong in her body as her boyfriend held her hands so tightly, “Oscar,” She rubbed lightly over his cheekbone, “I would love to be a family with you, make a family with you, but I just don’t think I’m ready for that right now. Your career is just taking off and I’ve just barely started to figure out what I want to do with the degree I just earned. It’s not the right time.”

Oscar sighed, head lulling forward and into her lap, “Fine. I guess you’re right.”

Y/n smiled softly and folded forward, planting a kiss into his hair as she scratched at his scalp. “This doesn’t mean I don’t ever want kids, you know?”

He gave a small smile into her lap before looking up at her, “I know. I think I’m just a bit crazed with baby fever right now. You’re right. It’s not a good time to have a whole ass kid now.”

Y/n giggled, “Glad we’re on the same page.”

Oscar stood up, moving to sit beside her on the bed. His arm hooked around her waist, pulling her into him and kissing her hair quickly as he murmured, “I still think you’d look good pregnant. With my kid, to be precise.”

—

“Y/n, are you seeing this?!” Oscar exclaimed as he shoved his phone in his girlfriend’s face. The TikTok he was showing her was of a little girl giggling continuously as, from what Y/n could gather, the child’s father tickled her stomach.

She blushed, “Yes, very cute, baby.”

Oscar rolled his eyes, “Exactly. Baby. I want a baby.”

“Mate…” Lando said with exhaustion, his head lulling back onto the couch he was sprawled out on. The McLaren crew members off to the side, getting coffees from the hospitality center, snickered.

Oscar’s head snapped to his teammate, “What? You’re just jealous you don’t have a girlfriend to have a kid with.”

“Oscar!” Y/n yelled, hitting his arm as a warning while Lando just keeled over in laughter.

His face was red as he got out, “Oscah! Who taught you to talk like that?!”

Oscar just smiled, “You.”

Lando leaned back, gasping for breath as he came down, “Does that mean I can be its uncle?”

Oscar shook his head, “I’m thinking godfather.”

Y/n scoffed, “We are not having a child! Stop dreaming of something that is not going to be happening for a few more years.”

Oscar shot her a quick glance with a grin, “Just wait till I give you a preview of what having a kid could let us do and I’m sure your mind will change.”

Lando’s mouth fell open, “I need to be removed from the country after hearing that come out of your mouth.”

“Oscar, there is something mentally wrong with you.” Y/n hit his arm once more, shooting him a warning look.

He sidled up to her, “Think a baby could fix that?”

Y/n groaned and Lando laughed, “OSCAR!”

—

“Y/n! Oscar! Do you guys think you could watch Mila while Sav, Ollie, and I all go for a walk on the paddock?” Lando asked hesitantly, eyeing Oscar with his niece in his arms.

From the way they were staring at each other, Y/n knew Oscar had put Lando up to this. Nonetheless, she smiled, “Sure!”

Oscar beamed.

Y/n took Mila from Lando’s arms, turning to Oscar as Mila stared after her uncle as he walked away. A shy child, Y/n knew Mila would do well with a bit of childish conversation.

“Mila, who’s your favorite? Uncle Lala or Oscar?” Y/n smiled, pinching Mila’s cheeks to draw a few giggles from the little girl.

Mila squealed, “Uncle Lala!! Lala!”

Y/n’s heart warmed at the way the cute child screaming the sweetest nickname. Oscar looked down at his girlfriend and, in his delusions, their child.

He cocked his head, “You fall into the role quite well.”

His comment went ignored by his girlfriend as she continued poking Mila lightly, laughing along with the young girl as her head fell into Y/n’s chest from the tickling.

Y/n smiled up at him before turning around, wandering off into the McLaren garage with Mila still tucked under her arm. Oscar wished he could take a picture. Save it for later. He loved everything before his eyes.

When he was done getting lost in fairy land, he jogged in the direction his girlfriend had taken. What he found was a sight so dear to his heart. Y/n in conversation with Mark, a sleeping Mila in her arms. Part of the reason why he loved the image so much was how comfortable Y/n looked, how Mila laid against her body so easily and how Y/n swayed as if it was second nature.

He wished she could see what he saw.

Mark nodded at him as he came to stand next to Y/n, pulling her into him by the waist and trying to decipher the topic of conversation. “You’re talking about Otmar leaving Alpine?”

“Yeah, good riddance.” Y/n sighed, hand rubbing up and down Mila’s back.

Oscar squeezed her hip softly, “I want to leave that man in my past.”

Mark rolled his eyes, “Don’t we all.”

“There isn’t any corner of the world he could be that is too far from us.” Oscar murmured, face grimacing at the thought of the horrid man.

Y/n laughed and kissed his shoulder, “It’s okay, Osc. You don’t have to deal with him anymore.”

Mark nodded along, eyes entranced with the picture in front of him. He knew Oscar yearned for kid with Y/n, but it had never looked so real before. The boy he had watched grow up, helped fight for, had all of a sudden grown into a man who pushed for children with his girlfriend. Mark knew Oscar was still young, too young for kids, but it still felt a bit odd to see him as someone’s father. It was sobering to see Oscar, his girlfriend, and a child all at once, in a position that made them look like a family. Truthfully, a part of him felt at peace to know the war was over. Oscar had found a seat, a team that prioritized him, and a person who loved him wholly. There was no need to worry about Oscar anymore. What was he to do now?

“Can I take a picture of you two really quick?” Mark asked, a question so surprising Oscar and Y/n shared a strange look.

“Sure?” Y/n said, not fully understanding the reason behind his request.

Mark moved back an inch, position his camera as Y/n and Oscar smiled. Y/n leaned her head against his shoulder while Mila stayed in her arms, still asleep against her body. He turned his camera around to show the couple what he had just captured and Y/n’s heart squeezed. Oscar almost screamed and ripped his hair out. He wanted what this picture implied so badly. With her.

He kept his composure, “We look cute, no?”

Y/n hesitated, a lingering grin on her face as she stared down at the image. Though, her smile lengthened and she tilted her head, “Can you send that to me?”

—

Oscar was in rare form. From the moment he had woken up, he was making suggestive comments in Y/n’s ear. To put it shortly, he was horny for the woman by his side. When Oscar got like this, he became impulsive and threw caution to the wind. Therefore, Y/n wasn’t surprised when he started rambling to her in the middle of the McLaren garage.

“All I’m saying is that you would look damn good carrying my kid.” He giggled, hand dangerously low on her back.

“Oscar…” She whispered, eyes darting around them in an effort to show him how public he was making their conversation.

He shook his head, “No one can hear what I’m saying. They’re too wrapped up in their work. They don’t know that I’m telling you how good it would feel to fuck you raw.”

She blushed, “Oscar,” She tried once more, though her voice was beginning to lose his edge.

His hand brushed her hair out of the way, leaning down to whisper in her ear, “Do you like that idea? Like the thought of me coming inside of you? Like the thought of everyone knowing you’re mine because you’re carrying my child?”

Her hand brushed up against his abs as she turned to look at him, his eyes boring down into hers. “Oscar, you are working.”

“So? We can go try for one right now, love. Just say the word.”

She tried to hold her composure, “Oscar, you are so bold.”

He kissed her softly, “Yeah? Or am I just attracted to the idea of seeing my cum leak out of you? I’d fuck it back into you with my fingers. Make sure it takes.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, but her insides clenched together.

He tried once more, “I can tell you want it. I can feel your skin getting hotter under my hands,” He brushed his fingers against the skin peeking out from her crop top, “I could be feeling you cum around my bare cock too.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but a loud throat clearing stopped her.

Oscar froze, Y/n paled.

The couple turned their heads slowly behind them, Zak side glancing them from his place inches away from them. Oscar opened his mouth to apologize, but Zak put up his hand.

“I never want to talk about this ever again.” He said, his voice so sharp it could cut ice.

Oscar’s hand flew to his mouth, “Zak, I’m so incredibly sorry. That wasn’t meant to be hear-”

Zak shook his head, “Oscar, I don’t care what the hell you do on your free time. Hell! I think it’s endearing how much you want to have kids with your girlfriend. But, I swear to God,” His eyes closed as he took a deep breath, “If I have to hear you talk about doing anything physical with your girlfriend, I will give you a bad car.”

Oscar nodded shortly, “Understood. I’m so sorry.”

Zak grimaced and shivered before giving the couple one last glance. A whisper loud enough for them to hear, “I’m so unsettled.”

Oscar turned back to his girlfriend. The woman so horrified, she refused to look at him.

He tilted his head, “It’s not that bad?”

Y/n snapped her head up at him. Her gaze fiery, it turned Oscar on. “You will never speak to me when we are near Zak, yeah?”

She walked away before he could respond.

“Y/n, that’s insane!” He screamed as he ran after her.

Lando chuckled to himself at the scene. Not knowing what Oscar had said, but inferring from the way Zak stared at a trash can like he was five seconds from vomiting into it.

—

Oscar stared down at Y/n as they laid in bed together, post-sex haze slowly depleting. His hand pushed tangled hair out of her face as he laid small kisses on her face, “I love you,” He whispered.

She smiled softly, “I love you too.”

From the way his eyes softened, Y/n’s being found peace. When she was younger, she had been so convinced she would never find love, never find a man who wanted to love her. Part of her wished she could go back in time and show her 16 year old self a picture of Oscar, detailing the man she would later find. Even though they fought and he got her so annoyed sometimes, he would always live to show her that what she had thought was unrealistic in love, was completely attainable. She had loved romcoms, yearning for that kind of feeling for someone else, but she was always lectured on how impossible that was. Oscar was the living counter argument to that statement. From the way he looked at her to the delicate nature of how he held her hand, she was secure in his love for her. A child was a lot, but a child was also a statement of forever. She wanted forever with Oscar, he did too. She wanted to share something so intimate with him beyond sex and vulnerability.

She wanted a kid with him.

In the silence of the night, she lightly spoke the words, “I think I’m ready for a baby.”

A year later and the sentence finally met his ears. Oscar stared at the wall behind her for a moment before letting his gaze fall to her.

“What?” Is all he could find within himself. The woman and the words of his dreams, finally a reality.

She giggled, “I’m ready to try for kids, Osc.”

His hands flew to cradle her face. He shook her head lightly as tears flooded his vision. His voice broke, “What?”

He couldn’t begin to muster another syllable, the staring was all his body could take. He wanted to memorize the twinkle in her eye as she completed his world. He wanted to think back on this moment and remember the way her hand felt against his rapidly beating heart, the way his hands got lost in her hair, the smell of her faded perfume, and the sincerity in her words.

He kissed her lips, soft and gentle as tears fell from his eyes. When they pulled back, she laughed and wiped the wetness on his cheeks, “Why are you crying, baby?”

His mouth opened and closed before speaking, “Because we’re having a kid… and I’ve found you, found the person I know the rest of my life was meant to be shared with. I think I’m just…” He trailed off, trying to find his words amongst all the things swirling around in his body, “I always knew I would be proud of myself if I got into F1, achieved a seat in the sport. I thought that would be the greatest achievement of my life, the most proud I would’ve ever been of myself. But, that’s not true because, in this moment, I am so much more proud of myself for being worthy enough of you and having a kid with you than getting a seat in Formula 1. I never thought about who I would settle down with, but now that I know it’s you, I can’t believe it was ever something that wasn’t on my mind. You are everything I ever think about. The life awaiting us and whatever tries to ruin our plans, I want it all. You are the beginning and end of my life.”

Y/n’s eyes were teary by the end of his confession, feeling as if she was drowning in the love of the moment.

When they kissed again, it felt more solidifying. Solidifying in that tomorrow, when they were filled with energy again, they would try for a baby. Solidifying that sometime, whether that was five years in the future or next week, a positive pregnancy test would sit brightly on the counter of their bathroom, affirming the forever they already knew was in store.

—

(ONE MONTH LATER)

How do you tell someone they’re 23 and going to be a dad?

Y/n snuck through the McLaren building at the Australian Grand Prix. Lando was in tow behind her as well as Mark and Oscar’s family, all eight of them tiptoeing toward Oscar’s room with large smiles.

Y/n clutched the pregnancy test in her hands, palms sweating heavily moments before she presented Oscar with news that would send him into sobs. No doubt.

“That one,” Lando whispered, pointing toward a black door at the end of the hallway. When they reached it, Y/n turned back.

“Who’s recording?” She asked quietly as Mark smiled and shoved his phone out in front of him.

Y/n giggled, “Screenager,” before sending him a playful glance, her teasing out of love.

With another look to the group, her knuckles rapped on the door.

“One sec!” Oscar’s voice yelled, a few moments passing before he was flinging the door open with a smile. That smile, however, soon fell slightly at the sight of everyone he ever loved standing before him.

“Oh, no. What have I done?” He asked, face dropping as he made eye contact with his beaming mother. “What’s going on?” He asked, slightly confused at the manic faces of his family and closet friend.

“Oscar,” Y/n whispered, his attention drawing to her immediately.

His head cocked to the side, “Baby, what’s going on?”

Y/n smiled, “A baby.”

His confusion grew, “What do you mean ‘a baby’?”

“Oscar…” She said once more, hands shifting in their grasp.

In the tone of her voice, he found happiness.

“No,” He whispered.

Her hands came to rest between their bodies, the pregnancy test on clear display, “Yes,”

A very concerning scream erupted from Oscar before be flung himself into the arms of his girlfriend and, therefore, everyone behind her. There was loud squeals and laughter before Oscar pulled back.

“THERE’S GOING TO BE A BABY?!” He screamed, the volume bouncing off the walls and most likely down to the garage.

Y/n nodded, “OUR BABY!”

Another scream that Lando would have to make fun of Oscar for later. The couple hugged each other tightly, jumping and down in the most giddy way. Truly embarrassing for Oscar, according to Lando, but the Brit also knew how much his friend had pleaded for this.

It was clear in the way he choked back tears; clear in the way he held Y/n; clear in the way he stuffed the pregnancy test into his pocket, mumbling to himself about wanting to put it in a scrapbook for their first child.

Maybe the moment could have been left to just Oscar and Y/n, but, as they all conversed excitedly about nine months in the future, Oscar found everything he ever needed.

Formula 1 was a bonus.

This was his dream.

Y/n and Baby 1 were his drea-

Y/n and Baby 1 were his reality.

[muniimyg]

1: the confession // series m.list

note: been daydreaming abt this jk... enj <3

taglist request: send a request with the title of this fic “aao” // DO NOT comment here or on the masterlist . it gets confusing and i prefer answering and tagging through asks !!!

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @defzcl @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @boraength @era-genius @4ksj @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns @jeonqkooks-main @ellesalazar @jkslvsnella @thekookiecorner @parkinglot-nights @seagulljk

fic taglist: @peterstarkchrishiddleston

//

The library is your favourite place. 

At least, that is until your predictable love for it comes to a disadvantage. May your tranquil moments alone rest in peace as your friends corner and gaslight you to leaving your sanctuary. Sometimes, it’s for parties. Other times, it’s for something stupid like driving to the next town to watch a movie at their theatre because their theatre chairs recline better. 

You won’t have it this time. 

No way. You have so much work to do!

"Oh, come on! Please, ___?” Hobi begs. “Come tonight! It'll be fun!" Suddenly, he’s clinging to your arm, making it harder for you to ignore him. You try shaking him off, but he pouts at you and clings on even tighter. 

“Hobi,” you whine. “Go to the party if you wanna go. Jimin said he’d meet you there! And Nam Joon, and Taehyung, Jin, and even Yoongi!” 

“But I want you to come!” He cries. “I need someone to keep count of my drinks—”

“Use a marker and tally it on your arm.”

“But then what if I need to throw up—”

“Then throw up.”

“... Jungkook will be there!”

You blink at him. 

“So?”

Hobi lets go of your arm and raises a brow at you. “What do you mean so? Isn't he your boyfriend?”

His accusation has you tongue-tied. This is the first time you’ve ever heard such an absurd thing! Jungkook became a part of the friendgroup after you. He’s the newbie. Actually, he has a whole other set of friends aside from you guys. Why? Because he’s cool. That’s it. Everyone on campus knows him and truth be told; he deserves his hype. He’s good-looking, kind, and a little weird (in a good way). He’s funny and smart (but not in an obnoxious way)... He’s just… Kind of good at everything? It intimidates you and often leaves you daydreaming. 

Come to think of it, everything happens by coincidence. Yours and his lectures usually start and end around the same time. Not to mention that he also loves the library! He usually walks you home after your study sessions. But, yeah… Aside from these things—you and Jungkook aren’t actually that close.

“W-what? I’m not dating Jungkook! Doesn’t he have a girlfriend?” you ask, careful not to sound too noisy. 

Hobi shakes his head. “Girlfriend? Yeah… You.”

Your eyes widen.

In a panic, you hiss at Hobi. “Don’t start rumours! That’s embarrassing for him to be associated with me—”

“Oh shut up,” Hobi laughs. “Do not get all insecure and pick me when the campus crush has literally been drooling over the past few weeks. Everybody knows. Everybody talks about it! Besides, they talk about him being all lovestruck—not you! So, spill it. What did you do, huh? Did you manifest it or some shit—”

“With all the time I spend in class, work, and the library… You think I have time to manifest?” you chuckle at him, ultimately trying to dismiss his suspicion. 

Hobi rolls his eyes at you. 

“For someone who reads fanfics and book loads of romance stories… You’re dense as fuck.”

Tilting your head at him, you try to find the words to defend yourself and fail. 

He’s right. 

You are dense. 

But that never hurt anyone before… So why does it matter?

“Earth to ___?” Hobi waves his hands to your face. You blink, brushing your thoughts away. Offering him a tired smile, he looks at you weirdly. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you exhale. “Why?”

“You’re blushing like crazy,” he teases, poking your cheek. Your hands fly to your cheeks. He’s right. They feel warm and the sudden embarrassment just made you feel even more flustered. Then, he nudges you. 

“Get it together!” Hobi mutters, “Your boyfriend is coming!"

Turning your head, you see Jungkook making his way through the doors. He has his backpack on one shoulder and his eyes glued to his phone. Like muscle memory, he turns his heels and walks toward your direction. 

“Oh my god,” you hit Hobi’s arm. “Why did you plant these thoughts when he’s literally—”

“Plant thoughts? Babes, it’s reality. Helllooooo?” Hobi sings, tauntingly. 

You pout at him, unable to take this lighthearted. 

Then, before you know it, Jungkook approaches you. 

He pulls the seat next to you out and settles in. After offering a fist bump to Hobi, he quickly leans his body over and places his hand on your knee. He’s always done this but why was it suddenly so different now? Was it always like this and you never noticed until now? Until Hobi…

Wow… 

“Hey, you.” Jungkook greets you warmly.

“... H-hi.”

He gives you a weird look. You avoid his eyes in return. Clearing his throat, he asks, “Why aren’t you packed up yet? Aren't we going to the party?”

Jungkook eyes your spread of notes on the table. You clunch your iPad closer to you and shrug. “We? It’s you. Aren’t you going to the party?”

Jungkook returns your question with a grin. “No. Us. You, specifically. You, especially.”

“Yeah, ___!” Hobi chimes cheekily. “Aren’t you going to the party?”

Hesitantly, you shake your head. 

“N-no… I have too much work to do. Here! I’ll just—” you pause your sentence and reach for Hobi’s arm. Pushing his sleeve up, you take the sharpie from your pencil case and write on his arm. 

If piss drunk, please return to ___. 

(xxx) xxx-xxxx <3

Hobi reads it sideways and yanks his arm back. 

“I hate you,” he utters. With laser eyes, he glares at Jungkook. “Tell her you’re coming to the party. Drag her to come! She’s always here! Homework can wait for tomorrow!”

Jungkook exchanges looks with you. With a soft gaze, he shrugs and turns to Hobi. 

“She doesn’t wanna go.”

Hobi groans. 

“Fine. Let’s go. Let’s leave—”

“I’m staying,” Jungkook says calmly. "She's not going... Neither am I."

He picks his backpack up from the ground and begins to unzip it. Taking out his notes and laptop, he looks up and smiles at Hobi. “Can I see your arm?”

Huffing, Hobi shows Jungkook your note. As Hobi rambles on and on about how you and Jungkook are party poopers, Jungkook takes your Sharpie and crosses your number out. 

If piss drunk, please return to ___. Jungkook

(xxx) xxx-xxxx <3

(xxx) xxx-xxxx

For the second time tonight, Hobi reads his arm sideways and yanks it back. He squints at the unfamiliar number. 

“Why’d you cross her number out? Whose number is this?” Hobi asks. 

“Mine,” Jungkook states, smiling at the correction. “Call me if you need anything.”

“What? Why?”

Jungkook blinks. “I’m not really crazy about ___’s number being on your arm for other guys to have and call her with.”

Hobi’s mouth drops. He slowly turns to you and gulps. Blinking at you slowly, he gives you crazy eyes. “You can not be this dense, ___. Jungkook is literally ripping me into shreds in his head right now—”

You laugh.

“Go. Have fun! Call me if you need anything.”

Hobi turns to Jungkook. 

Jungkook smiles at him sweetly with his eyes closed. He shakes his head slowly and wiggles his finger at him. “Don’t call her.”

With that, Hobi grumbles a few exchanges before packing his stuff up. He waves goodbye and tells you that you’re lame one last time. You agree with him and wave him goodbye. As he leaves, Jungkook moves his chair closer to you. 

“So… Same schedule? Study until 9PM and then I walk you home? Or are you hungry tonight? Maybe we can wrap this up by 7:30PM and grab a bite to eat? I know a really good burger spot just up campus—why’d you do that?”

Your body stiffens.

“Do what?”

Jungkook eyes your chair distance. 

“You moved away.”

What the heck… How did he even notice? It’s not like you moved across the table! You just moved like… Half an inch. 

“No, I didn’t,” you deny. “But yeah… Sure! I’ve been craving a good burger with extra cheese—what are you doing?”

“I’m moving closer to you.”

“Why?”

“Because you lied to my face and moved away.”

“N-no!” 

Jungkook inches his face closer to yours. He boops your nose and scrunches his. “You sniff whenever you lie. Did you know that?”

“N-no…”

“Now you do.”

For the first time ever… You lose your breath. It’s like you forgot how to breathe. He’s so close to you. His eyes are so doey, you’re literally getting lost in them. The scar he has on his left cheek… You can see it so clearly—the detail of how his skin healed and all. His hair is brushing above his eyebrows and you can’t help but realize how much you like the way it falls on his face. He’s… Cute?

Oh god. 

“D-dont do that—uhh—” You move away from him. This time, there’s an obvious space between you two. Jungkook straightens his posture, completely confused by your burst of emotion. It’s… Conflicting? He swears you two were about to kiss… Now, what’s going on?

“___? What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks with a gentle tone. 

You turn away and shove your notes to your face. Mumbling into the paper, you tell him what’s on your mind. “Everyone thinks you have a crush on me and it’s embarrassing.”

Jungkook doesn’t hear you well. 

“Say that again,” he requests. Without warning, he takes the paper from your hands, leaving you to face him. “Don’t act all cute. What is it?”

You stay silent and contemplate.

Was this worth saying? Was this worth addressing? Would it change anything between you two after? What about the burgers? You’ve been craving a cheesy burger like crazy—

“It’s fine if you don’t feel comfortable. You can tell me later or never. I don’t mean to be pushy—”

Then, you blurt it out. 

“Everyone thinks you have a crush on me… Or something.” 

Jungkook doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t hold his breath. 

He doesn’t deny it. 

“I do have a crush on you.”

Your throat feels dry. What?! Has he lost his mind?

“W-what? You can’t j-just—”

Jungkook tilts his head and pouts. 

“I don’t really understand why I should deny it. Why should I lie? Why should I make an excuse? This is how I feel. You just found out earlier than the confession… I guess this is it though, right?” He laughs. 

You hit his chest. 

“This isn’t funny!”

“Why can’t it be funny?” Jungkook laughs even harder. He catches your wrist and holds you still. “Doesn’t it make you laugh? That everybody on campus watched me wait outside your classes every day for almost 3 months… That everybody waits on me to go to parties but I don’t show up because I rather walk you home and stay home… That everybody on campus watched me enter this goddamn library of a snoozefest—”

“Hey! I like it here.”

“Yeah,” he rolls his eyes at you. “I like you. That’s why I’m here.”

“I… I thought you wanted to study.”

Jungkook laughs even louder, earning a few hushes from others nearby. He groans, throwing his head back. “I can’t even fucking laugh in here without getting in trouble. Why the hell would I like this place?”

“... To study!”

“To be with you.” 

You shut up. 

No words, no thoughts, no feelings. 

Okay…

Feelings. Lots of them. 

“I don’t understand why you’re so overwhelmed,” Jungkook murmurs, leaning his head against your shoulders. “I thought you knew. I thought you figured it out by now. I wasn't exactly discrete."

You sit still, not knowing if you should move or let him settle in. Before you can decide, he sits himself up and grabs your hand. He squeezes it tightly and brings it to his lips. Kissing your hand, he looks at you. 

“Doesn’t matter if you’re dense. Doesn’t matter if you don’t know how you feel right now. I’ll win you over… You’ll fold."

You yank your hand away from him. In response, he leans over and kisses the side of your head instead. You gasp, but your cheeks blush. Quickly, you cover your face with your hands. He laughs heartily, tugging you close to him. You bury your face in his chest and groan at the sinking feeling of wanting to be anywhere but here. This was humiliating!

And just when you think it can't get any worse, Jungkook wraps his arms around you and hugs you tight. As he pats your back, he murmurs—

"You're falling for me already, aren't you?"

[seireiteihellbutterfly]

JJK Men And Reader With A Sensitive Clit

part 2 with Geto here

♥ Warnings: Mentions of trauma, sexual themes, clit and vaginal fingering, oral sex

♥ Summary: Reader with a sensitive clit. What will our men do to work around this?

♥ Featuring: Gojo and Nanami

♥ Word Count: 1957

JJK Masterlist

Gojo

“So fucking wet… can't believe this is all for me…”

Your new lover is eager to please and you lay back as his tongue pampers your clit, licking at it like candy. Whimpers escape your mouth, your hips rocking to meet his rhythm, but the thoughts at the back of your mind are distracting you.

That's it? You couldn't last longer than that? 

That's no fun… You cum too soon 

You and your over sensitive clit… You don't deserve to be eaten out if you're going to cum so soon… 

You are suddenly filled with anxiety and you stop being responsive. You were already close. Super close but your body jerked at those thoughts and moved your pussy away from Gojo, making him lose his rhythm. 

Piercing blue eyes look at you, his mouth setting into a frown. “Did you not like it?”

You take a few deep breaths, trying to gather your thoughts but the memory is still stuck, taunting you. “No I liked it…Was about to cum actually.”

Gojo's eyebrows knit together in confusion. “Then why…?”

You bring yourself up to a sitting position, feeling embarrassed and slightly humiliated. Gojo scoots over to you and starts stroking your hair. “Are you uncomfortable? Because if you are -”

“It's not you.” You cut him off, unsure if you wanted to tell him. You're worried he would think the same way your past boyfriend did. That you were boring, that it's not fun when a girl cums too soon, that you should not expect oral if it gets you off that fast… 

Gojo has been watching you patiently this whole time, trying to process your reactions. He strokes your arm, concerned. “What are you not telling me y/n?”

You sigh, your face burning. “I cum too fast.”

Gojo blinks, unsure if he heard you correctly. “You… What?”

“It doesn’t take long for me to orgasm, Like if it’s really good, I can have one in under a minute.”

Gojo still looks confused. “And this is a problem because…?”

“You don’t think it’s boring to have a partner who cums too fast?” Your chest tightens at the thought, wondering what he thinks about you. Gojo continues to stroke your arm, before giving it a reassuring squeeze. 

“Ah…I’d say that’s kind of hot. Under a minute? Really?”

You look at him in surprise. “Really? You don’t think it’s weird? You don’t think…” you pause before saying the rest. “You don’t think you’ll get tired of giving me oral if I keep cumming so fast, and it’s over before you really got into it?”

He chuckles softly and pulls you against his chest. “Pretty girl…where’d you get it in your head that giving oral gets boring if you cum quickly?”

You blush against his toned chest. “Just…an ex…”

“Then they’re not worthy of you. Aw baby, no. Don’t you ever think that way.”

Reassured, you nestle against his chest. A few moments pass in silence before he speaks again. “Have you ever had multiple orgasms before?”

You look at him in confusion. “No but, what does that have to do with anything?”

“Well, I read somewhere that if you cum really quickly, that’s not your real orgasm. It’s a pre-orgasm which then leads to the big one.” He looks at you thoughtfully. “Wanna try it out?”

The expression on your face says it all. “You’d want to do this with me?”

“Hell yeah. You think I’m not up for it? A chance to make you cum over and over?”

Internally, you couldn’t believe it. He really wanted to do this. Were you even capable of multiple orgasms? You were so sensitive after it happens. Gojo seems to read into your uncertainty and he reassures you. “At any point if you’re uncomfortable just tell me. I swear I’ll stop.”

He kisses his way down your body, parting your legs, licking your inner thighs, before going back to licking the sensitive bud. His arms lock around your upper thighs to prevent them from closing. 

You feel the buildup happen quickly, moaning as your folds grow wet from your slick and his saliva. The orgasm grips you within a few seconds and you moan lewdly, feeling Gojo’s tongue press up flat against your clit as your sex spasms from pleasure. 

“You weren’t kidding…” He laps up at your juices, the sounds of wetness adding to your arousal.

“No I wasn’t I - ohhhh.” Your words cut off as Gojo gets back into it, his lips pulling on your clit, abusing the very tip of it with his tongue. You feel your mind go hazy, pussy sensitive from the recent climax and whine. “Gojo…It’s…sensitive…ngh…”

His eyes lock onto yours and you can’t help but stare back, seeing nothing but enthusiasm. Sweat breaks out on your skin as he keeps eating you out, his long fingers slipping into your leaking core, finding that spot inside you and curling his fingers into it. It’s like a hook behind your navel is pulled, and you mewl your pleasure as a second orgasm hits you almost instantly. 

The second one felt so much different than the first. The first one felt almost delicate in comparison to this one which had a stronger intensity, your pussy spasming around his fingers for what felt like minutes before finally receding. You try to catch your breath as Gojo grins at you from between your legs.

“How about a third one?”

You chuckle weakly and bite your lip. 

“As many as you’ll give me.”

Nanami

It’s finally happening. After patiently dating for nearly 2 months, you and Nanami decide you’re both ready to get physically intimate. His kisses were so tender and sweet, taking his time until you started sighing against his lips, slipping your tongue for more. Both your clothes came off slowly, as he laid you back on the bed, drinking in your blushy face and how sensitive you were to his touch, his every whisper and tickle. 

You were enjoying yourself at first, moaning as he kissed and nibbled your neck, your collarbone, as he came down to your breasts, swirling your hardened nipples with his tongue. Your body was soft and compliant under his, admiring how beautiful and toned he was, his sharp brown eyes looking at you with affection as he ran his tongue between your breasts, down to your belly, nibbling your belly button as he continued down to the sweet spot between your thighs. 

You try to remind yourself this is a different person, that Nanami wouldn’t ever shame you or hurt you but memories keep intruding your thoughts as he starts to part your legs. 

It hurts…don’t do it like that…

It hurts? What’s wrong with you? You’re a chick right? Don’t like having your clit touched? What’s the fun if you can’t handle some pressure?

I don’t like it that hard…

The pain will pass…just wait it’ll feel good….

No…stop…

Let me touch it…

You’re hurting me…stop…STOP…!

“Y/n?”

You hadn’t even realized you’d squeezed your eyes shut and that there’s a tear rolling down your cheek. Mortified, you look to see Nanami crouching between your legs, his expression full of concern. He stops immediately and moves up towards you as you clutch the blanket and try to cover yourself, shame filling you. You had hoped the trauma would go away if you had tried to have sex again, with someone you felt like you could trust. To get Nanami’s hopes up like this, then to have this response…Would you be able to enjoy sex like a normal person ever again?

Strong, warm arms envelope you from behind, pulling you to his chest, comforting you. Nanami rests his cheek on your hair. 

“I’m fine.”

”You were crying y/n. That’s not fine.” His hands gently cover yours, which are tightly clasping the blanket. “Talk to me.”

Those words, spoken with so much sincerity, almost make you break down completely.

”It’s nothing, I just…I don’t like…” You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling mortified that you have to say this. “I don’t like having my clit touched. Every time anyone tries to touch it, it’s too…hard? Painful? I don’t know. I just don’t like it.” The words roll out.

”And…were you crying because I was about to…?”

You take a deep breath, realizing you’ll have to tell him the truth because otherwise, he’ll probably assume it was something he did, because that’s just who he was. “It wasn’t you. In the past I wasn’t treated very nicely about this. A lot of people told me it’s supposed to feel good, that the pain was part of the pleasure. And I know it can feel good, because it does when I do it by myself. But others…”

Your voice trails off. You wait for it. For him to realize you’re a freak. There’s a moment of silence. Then…

”Why not tell me if you didn’t want me to go there?” His voice is soft, full of understanding.

”I don’t know. I just didn’t want you to think I was weird. I want to have someone touch me there and feel good but it just hasn’t worked well in the past.”

The delicate strength he holds you with comforts you and you manage to calm down. He was silent for a moment then he asks you, “How do you do it?”

”What?” You’re surprised by the question.

”You said it feels good when you do it. So how do you do it?”

Your face flushes red. No one had asked before. “I um…kind of…just…grab both sides of my pussy…and roll it in between.”

“Would you be open to me doing that?”

You take a minute to process his words, unsure.

”I’ll stop if it starts to hurt,” he adds immediately. He’d never hurt you, never on purpose. 

With a nod of your head, you turn to lay on your back and the both of you start up again, the kisses, the little tickling caresses. When you start sighing, he slips his hand down and gently places his thumb and index finger on the fatty folds of your pussy, giving a soft squeeze which has you gasping.

You take deep breaths, and then he brings the folds together over your clit and its heaven. Your eyes close, savoring the gentle pleasure that you thought you would never experience. He keeps his eyes on your face, looking for signs of discomfort, but none show up. He keeps a steady rhythm, rolling the little bud between your steadily moistening folds, building up your arousal until you feel yourself dripping with need. 

A delicious shiver passes through your body and before you can stop yourself, you say, “faster”. There had never been a time you’d asked for it to be faster.

His fingers, so dexterous and clever, pick up the speed that’s rolling the folds of your sex and you whimper at the sensation, not painful at all. You half open your eyes, your mind somewhere between pleasure and reality, see his brown eyes fixated on yours, making you blush at the intensity of his gaze. 

His free hand tugs your hardened nipple, his mouth coming down over the other one. The sensation builds slowly, the room filling with your delighted mewling, hips bucking, desperate for a release. Heat gathers in your belly, your abdominal muscles tightening, his fingers patient and tender. 

Your fingers grip the bedsheets as you sob out your pleasure, climax gripping you so softly yet intensely, wave after wave racking your system. His fingers keep up their movements guiding you through it. When you start to quiet down he tenderly kisses your lips. 

“Was that all right?”

You sigh and rest against the pillow. 

“More than all right.”

dividers by @/cafekitsune

[mouwrites]

Sorry for my inconsistent posting schedule my darlings :(

Creepypasta/MH - The Moment They Knew They Loved You

Characters: Jeff the Killer, Nina the Killer, Jane the Killer, Tim/Masky, “Ticci” Toby

Jeff the Killer

It would’ve been a very long time after knowing you

Even if he was physically attracted to you, he wouldn’t consider that “love”

He usually judges people more on their character

That’s not so say he doesn’t enjoy calling people ugly if he thinks they’re ugly though

So you guys would’ve been vibing together for a while

He’d come away from each interaction with you just a little happier (or a lot happier), but he didn’t really notice it

That is, until he walks into a room one day and finds you relaxing, scrolling through your phone

He announces some unhinged plan, fully intending on carrying it out

You just look up at him for a second before (being used to his bs) just giving a thumbs-up and telling him to have fun

He blinked at you for a second, a grin coming to his lips slowly

He thinks to himself: you know, this is why I like them. They understand me.

And then he starts to think about all the reasons he likes you

He spends the rest of the night with your image in his head and a light feeling in his heart

It’s when he’s lying in bed, telling himself to stop thinking so he can sleep, that he finally realizes:

Oh. I’m in love, aren’t I?

He’s not mad about it; he’s more surprised than anything (at first at least… soon he’s ecstatic about it)

But he fully accepts his affection for you, and it won’t be long till he confesses ;)

Nina the Killer

She’s a pretty perky girl with a lot of emotions

Happiness, sadness, anger… she’s unapologetic in expressing everything, to the point that many call her “extra” or “weird”

It’s only for those people that she acts more reserved, and it’s more in an act of resentment than resignation (basically her saying “eff you loser, you don’t deserve me”)

So she only really likes people that she doesn’t have to act differently around

And of course you’re one of those people :)

She finds little things to like and hate about everyone in her life, and you’re no exception

So one night she just happens to be looking at a picture of you, and she gets to thinking

She smiles as she remembers good times with you: going to the mall, getting messy with baking or butchering, late night texting…

At length she decides that there’s a whole lot more to love than hate

And then she gets to thinking about your looks, and maybe she’s biased because she’s just decided that you’re delightful, but she feels a little heat come to her cheeks

She zooms in on the picture she’s looking at, admiring your features one at a time

She’s baffled that she hasn’t noticed how good-looking you are until now

And then the memories play again in her head, but this time her heart soars extra high…

She’s in love with you!!

She smacks a hand over her mouth when she realizes it, then breaks into a fit of giggles

Get ready for not-so-subtle hints and extra affection….

She’ll want you to figure it out before she actually confesses lol

Jane the Killer

I feel like she would’ve decided that she loved you pretty early on

Maybe even before interacting with you for the first time

She watched you (perhaps not entirely intentionally at first), and was at once enchanted by your looks and the way you carried yourself

You were like a magical creature of beauty to her

She didn’t dare disturb you in the beginning; she was content just watching

She was sure that her infatuation was purely aesthetic; you were just pretty, that was all there was to it

Except IT WASNT

One day she happened to actually interact with you

She was a little nervous, what with you being held so high in her head

But you absolutely floored her

The way you spoke, the way you saw her as a person…

You hooked her like a bass in a pond

She stood there breathless after your first interaction, watching you walk away with a racing heart

It was then that she knew this was much more than physical attraction

She HAD to have you, or at least try to

And trust me, she will try her hardest 😤

She’ll court you for a while first, just to see if you’re even interested

But if/when you are, she won’t be taking her time in confessing ;D

Tim/Masky

Methinks you’d have been friends for a while first

You went through a lot of things together: good times, bad times, silence, chaos…

And maybe you weren’t besties or anything, or super enthusiastic about each other (actually you’re probably a little cold to each other if anything, even if you do feel strongly attached)

But the point is that you have a history, and you know each other well

Plus there’s an unspoken bond that says you’ll have to tolerate each other for a long time (unspoken obligatory friendship moment)

Not that either of you minded

So one day you’re enjoying some silence together, relaxing out on a balcony and waiting for the dark clouds to pour rain

Your eyes are fixed on the sky, leaving your face in full view of the world

And, more importantly, Tim

He’s not sure why, but his gaze catches on your face

He starts admiring the little features: your eyes, the curve of your nose, the way your eyebrows are shaped…

He doesn’t decide that you’re beautiful. He decides that this is the face of someone he loves

It hits him like a truck—just a random thought out of nowhere:

This is the face of someone I love.

And while he’s taken aback at first, with a reddening face he realizes it’s true

He does love you!! All that you’ve been through together really meant something to him

He looks away bashfully, grumbling something when you ask if something’s up

Get ready for the long game…. This man will never confess

He’ll curse himself for even insinuating any feelings for you, so you’ll be left in the dark unless you’re REALLY good at picking up accidental gestures

“Ticci” Toby

He’d be so oblivious to his own feelings

He’d act super affectionate towards you, but only because he acts on impulse

He never stops to wonder why he gets the impulse to hug you or pinch you or say something not-so-mean (even NICE?! 🤯) when he’s around you

He doesn’t even notice that he only gets those impulses for you

So you’ll probably figure it out before him

And it’s only when you start to return that affection that he really starts to question

But again. He is SO OBLIVIOUS

It takes him a very long time to figure it out… you honestly might just have to spell it out for him

He can’t even take hints

I think that when he finally does figure it out, it’s a fleeting thought that catches for some reason

Like, he’s just daydreaming or something and suddenly he’s dreaming of dating you

And he thinks: hey, that wouldn’t be so bad. But it’s not like I like them like that. Wait…. Do I?

And then he’s just. Floored. Because HOW DID HE MISS IT FOR THAT LONG

Literally grips his hair like “WHAT!!!!”

Immediately runs to go yell at you tell you that he loves you

And you’re just like “oh I know. But thanks for finally confessing! <3”

Thank you so much for reading!! Take care my sweet duckies <33

(divider by saradika)

[fev3rish]

PROMISES. kenji tots w/ v

kenji makes promises he knows he’ll keep.

cw. early relationship, kenji is too relatable with his issues, kenji thinks you’re stupid but in reality he’s the stupid self deprecating one, you DID infact change him

notes. i love you kenji sato. have dinner with me PLEASE PLEASE PLEAS EPELASE

thinking about kenji sato and how he first says ‘i love you.’

thinking about how he’s always talking, and how every one hangs on to his every word. thinking about how he’s so boisterous, and bold—about how he’s always so loud. thinking about how he was that way with you once too, when you weren’t anything to him but at best a means to an end. thinking about how he speaks with certainty, how he rarely lets his voice break. he never does. not in front of people.

kenji constantly has his guard up, always ready for the worst to happen—because it almost always does. then you come in, and his walls come crashing down on him as he tries to step back. he tries to distance himself, to leave, because if you’re too good to be true, then you’re too good for him to stay. he doesn’t want you to, but you do anyway. you place a hand on his cheek and tell him everything will be okay; he doesn’t have to do it alone. you’ll be there. you promise him, and he thinks you’re stupid. he thinks you’re stupid for wanting to stay with him, stupid for wanting to be with him, and you think he’s stupid for thinking of himself like that. you could be so much more, kenji tries to tell you—but you shut him down.

he remembers that day like it was yesterday—when you told him that “we could be so much more.”—when you told him that regardless of whether or not he wanted you to, you would stay. you place your hand on his cheek, and for the first time, his voice breaks in front of you. he’s quiet as you confess your love, because he doesn’t think he deserves it in the first place—but he does. you hold him close to your chest, and you tell him you love him. he is the last thought in your mind as you fall asleep, and he knows, and it makes him sick to his stomach. he doesn’t say i love you back, but in your slumber, he says all he’s wanted to say, and his words seep into your dreams.

“i’m… going to try. with you. i want to try with you.” he starts, squeezing his eyes shut because he hopes you don’t hear him—hopes you don’t wake up in the middle of it. “i can’t describe you as anything else but…ugh, that’s corny.” he stops himself, it’s too much—he wants to call you his, already—he wants to call you ‘mine.’

but he doesn’t, kenji wants you to be awake when he does. “that whole thing—the things you said, that was the first time someone spoke to me like that. the first time they didn’t just give up on me. that was so…new. you’re so new. you’re something else, i swear.” he scoffs, he finds it so weird he’s practically talking to himself—but when you love like someone, it can make you do crazy things. “you’re right. we can be so much more. and i want to be. i want to be so much more. i—i have a duty to be good, like.. a good person. i have so much i haven’t told you. but i will tell you. when i’m ready, and when you are, too. i have a duty to be as good to you as i am to the people… it might seem a bit weird—like i’m some sort of hero— but that’s not the point. i’ll help you understand soon. the point is i’ll definitely take care of you. i know you can take care of yourself, but i’ll be there to…”

his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek. “i’ll be there to open your jars, and taste your new recipes… i’ll be there to brush your hair on days you can’t.” kenji continues, before taking his blanket and draping it over you. “—i’ll drape my blanket over you every night you fall asleep in this bed. make you coffee in the morning, too, because i know you wake up later than me.”

it’s like you’re taking his heart and squeezing it hard; he doesn’t want you to let go. he wants to say it back, to confess his fondness of you just as you did to him—but he can’t. he can’t say it, his mouth burns when he tries to—but he wants to. he settles on promises he knows he’ll keep, for as long as you’ll have him. slowly, his eyes shut—and his mouth opens up into a yawn. but he doesn’t miss a beat when he says, “i’ll definitely make you happy.”

you wake up to the sunlight pouring through the blinds and a bed that’s still warm, but already spacious. you turn and kenji is there, walking into the room with two cups of coffee and an uncharacteristically shy smile on his face. he greets you good morning, and as you ramble to him about your dream, quoting some points he made while you were asleep, he wants to tell you it wasn’t exactly all a dream. he wants to tell you what exactly he said, but he doesn’t. if he did, kenji would risk revealing things he can’t reveal. so he just listens to you; the sunlight hits your face just right, and your hair is messy but he’s not bothered by it. you’re annoyed, as your eyes get caught in the sun’s rays, and you crane your neck away, your hand shielding yourself from the brightness—and you’re so beautiful.

you might as well be the sun, with how you blind him whenever he looks at you—you nourish him, you give him energy, and you are what makes his day. you are the sun. he doesn’t know what he is, and he doesn’t even care. your every word is gospel, and he listens to it— to you—as if you’re a prophet. heavensent. divinely made. he wouldn’t be surprised if you were. if there’s anyone he wants to be listening to, it’s you.his mouth burns, but he’d be damned if he didn’t say it right now. you’re definitely the love of his fucking life; kenji has not been so certain in his life.

“i love you.”

you go silent, and then you let out the most happy little laugh— a big, big smile on your face.

the burn subsides as quick as it came.

[luveline]

hiiiiiiiii jade! <3

would you be willing to write a fic about girl dad!spencer x bombshell!reader? i can only imagine what an adorable riot their daughter would be!!!

tysm!

ty for requesting!! mom!reader

Spencer always thought you were too beautiful for him. Too funny, too brave, too confident. For years he feared he’d never be anyone you could love; he was the opposite of all your best parts, he talked too much about the wrong things, he went red whenever you so much as looked at him, and he couldn’t flirt back, not for anything. 

But it’s been a very long time since he felt that way. What good is a father who doesn’t believe in being yourself? Amanda deserved to be loved from the moment she drew breath, and he shouldn’t have been any different. 

Now, though, he’s wondering if he shouldn’t be so accepting of all her whims. “I am not wearing that, daddy,” she says. 

She’s just old enough to put together sentences but young enough that the individual words sound like building blocks, chunky and clumsy on her little mouth. Her lips are yours, her smiles and frowns one hundred percent you. (Though you argue with him often that the quizzical pout she does is all his.)

“What do you mean, angel?” he asks, bent over her sock drawer looking for a matching pair. 

“This is pink, and this is purple.” She points. 

“Yes, and you like pink and purple!” 

“I like pink… and I like purple,” she says. 

“But not together?” he asks knowingly. “You want them at different times, is that it?” 

She runs for his legs, hugging them tightly. “Thank you.” 

“You’re so much like your mommy it’s scary,” he whispers playfully, leaning down to pat her small back. “Okay, angel. I’ll find you a different dress to wear. Or maybe the dungarees!”

She lifts her chin up to smile at him. “Y’okay.” 

“Spencer, Amy!” you call, voice carrying from the kitchen. “Are you guys ready? We have to go soon and you haven’t even eaten!” 

Spencer used to sit at his desk daydreaming about you. He’d drink five cups of tea a day to get to walk past you for the kitchenette, hoping you’d be making a coffee, that you’d flirt with him over corporate rewarded donuts. Now you’re making him breakfast as he persuades your daughter into jelly shoes because she wants tall shoes like mommy. They compromise —Any will wear the wrong shoes if Spencer agrees to carry her to the kitchen table. 

“Sorry,” Spencer says as he pushes open the door into the kitchen. He's trying to be the best dad he can be all the time, but he doesn’t have a knack for the mornings like you do. “We won’t be late.” 

“That depends on how agreeable my lovely girl is feeling today.” You pick up the pink plastic plate you’ve filled with eggs, toast, and a mix of washed berries. “What do you think, Amy? Looks nummy?”

“Chocolate chip?” she asks, eyes already widening. 

“It’s breakfast, honey,” you say, scooping her out of Spencer’s arm to carry her to the table. “Chocolate chips are for dinner.” 

“Please?”

“If you promise to be really super duper good at Uncle Derek’s, then yes, you can have some chocolate chips,” you say, tucking her chair in, and kissing her chubby cheek. “You want me to make you milk or juice, mm?”

Spencer spots the two plates you’ve made up for you and him on the counter and quickly brings them to the table, sliding yours in front of you with a long-pronged fork, his hand on your shoulder to keep you in your seat. “I’ll get it,” he says, ducking down to kiss you on the side of the mouth. 

You turn to Amy. “See that, sweetheart? See how nice and kind your daddy is to me? He’s soooo nice. This is why we love him so much, and we appreciate him so much.” 

Amy nods emphatically, blueberries tumbling off of her plastic fork. “So much,” she echoes, her voice like melting sugar. 

He has a weird moment by the fridge where he has to grip the handle. “You know I used to dream about making you a cup of coffee in the mornings?” he asks. 

“Spencer, come over here and kiss me again, please,” you say, sympathetic and fond.

“Me too!” Amy says through fruit. “Me first.” 

“Oh, gosh, this is one of the hardest decisions of my life,” he says, sweeping in to dot your cheeks with kisses, hers then yours, three apiece.

[lovebugism]

hey honey can i request a shy!reader x grumpy!eddie , maybe they’re pumpkin picking with friends & something angsty ensues but then fluffy & after they all go eat at the diner and get spooky themed orders 🤭

thanks for requesting lovie! — eddie gets grumpy on a fall outing with the gang (shy!reader, established relationship, hurt/comfort, 1.3k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Eddie’s a big ol’ grump at Eugene’s Pumpkin Patch, but he’s being really brave about it. He follows you like a puppy, visibly unamused about the whole thing but trying hard to be a good boyfriend despite his woe.

“Ah! Look at this one!” you gasp at the sight of a pumpkin, in a sea of bright orange pumpkins. 

Swallowed whole by your sweater, you crouch in the tall grass and reach for the tiny round thing hidden in it. The runt pumpkin sits neatly in your palms. “It’s so wittle,” you singsong up at Eddie in a tiny, high-pitched voice.

He smiles despite himself, laughing even though he’s grumpy, ‘cause you’re the cutest thing he’s ever seen.

“I’m gonna get this one,” you announce affirmatively when you rise to full height again.

“You made me drive an hour out just to get the tiniest pumpkin they have?” Eddie asks, laughing still but with a subtle bite of annoyance.

You try to ignore it, though the weight of his aggravation makes you writhe. “But it’s cute…” you defend with a weak shrug. “And also, you have to get one, remember?”

You take a tentative step towards Eddie, standing chest to chest. He huffs and puts his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. His chocolate eyes flit around the expansive farm, dull and unimpressed. “They all look the same, so… I don’t think it really matters.”

“It does matter!” you insist, girlish and quiet and stubborn. “You have to pick the one you like the most— that’s the whole point!”

“You’re telling me there’s an art to pumpkin picking?” the boy teases with a crooked grin, tilting his head to the side so his curls bunch at his shoulder.

Still clutching the tiniest pumpkin either of you have ever seen, you nod. “Yes. That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”

He scoffs again in a curt laugh. He looks around again, only to point to the one sitting by his feet.

“Alright… How about that one?”

“Eddie!”

“What?” he whines in the same pouty tone as you.

“Can you at least pretend you’re having fun?” you murmur, a bit sad you have to even ask. 

You always spiral when he gets weird, secretly terrified that it’s all your fault. He doesn’t talk, so you overthink. Your brain gets mean, and you need Eddie to make you feel better — but he can’t because he’s weird. It’s unbearable. For both of you.

“It’s cold and rainy and Steve’s pants gave me a headache on the way over and I don’t feel good, okay? I’m sorry,” Eddie rambles with a pout, looking visibly pained about all of it.

Any excitement you had left leaves you like an ebbing tide. “Okay,” you mutter with a soft nod.

“I’m gonna go smoke,” the boy announces. 

He smacks a fleeting kiss to your cheek before he goes but doesn’t bother to invite you to come with him. He doesn’t feel very deserving of your company right now, too selfish in his woe and painfully self-aware about it.

You stand in place while he walks back to the van, feeling utterly alone and unwanted.

“Where’d Eddie go?” Steve wonders when he walks up to you with Robin at his side. 

They carry two pumpkins each, struggling with each of them because they’ve somehow managed to find the biggest ones on the whole farm. You figure they made a bet about it because everything’s a competition with them.

“Um… to smoke, I think,” you answer shyly, embarrassed to have been found alone for a reason you can’t name. “He just kinda… left.”

Robin scoffs. “I think he’s on his period,” she jokes with a gritty laugh.

“Yeah. He said my pants looked stupid before we left. I knew something was up.”

The brunette girl side-eyes the boy beside her. “I think he might’ve been right about that one, Stevie.”

You make a quiet exit when they begin to bicker back and forth. You duck through the bustling pumpkin patch and try not to trip in the tall grass on your way to Eddie’s van. 

Your boots crunch over the gravel of the parking lot. You find him leaning against the trunk, blowing out smoke from his pink mouth, slouching like he’s weighed down by his own sadness. 

“You okay, Eds?” you ask to announce your arrival. 

His eyes widen when he realizes you’re there. He’d pretend to be fine if it didn’t take all the energy he had left. “No,” he answers honestly, then quickly corrects, “I mean— I am, but… I feel bad. I was acting like a dick…”

“Yeah,” you concur with a nod. “You were.”

He’s too shocked to hide it on his face. You’re never normally so confrontational. You’re usually too quiet for that, too soft. And you still are now, because you always are, but he feels like he deserves to see this sterner side of you.

“But it’s okay. I know you didn’t wanna come in the first place.”

He turns on his shoulder when you stand at his side, towering over you as he flicks the butt of his cigarette. “Yeah, but… I didn’t have to be such an asshole to you about it. I feel like I fuckin’ ruined this whole day, you know?”

“We all have our moments, Eds. It’s no big deal,” you assure with a weak shrug and a stronger smile. “We still have the whole afternoon left— you didn’t ruin anything. Doesn’t make me love you any less, either.”

Your words make him grin. Like, really grin — all wide and rosy and boyish. You make him smile like nothing’s ever hurt him. Like nothing’s ever been wrong in his life. Fuck, he’ll never get tired of hearing you say that.

“I love the shit outta you, you know that?” he mumbles but doesn’t give you a chance to answer. He tosses the cigarette to the ground and snuffs it out with his sneaker right before kissing you absolutely stupid.

He wraps his arms around your neck, smothering your face with his. No one’s ever been kissed as hard as he’s kissing you now. The realization makes you smile too wide to kiss him back.

He pulls away from you with a hearty smack. With pinker lips and chocolate eyes, he grins hopefully down at you. “So you’re not mad at me?” he wonders, gentle like a child.

“Yes,” you nod, playfully firm. “I’m very mad, actually.”

Eddie’s smile widens. He knows you’re joking and decides to lean into it. “What can I do then, huh?” he murmurs lowly to you, a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “How can I make it up to you?”

He wants to kiss you again. He wants to get you in the back of his van in a vacant parking lot. He wants you to tell him to make you feel good and not to stop until you’re pushing him away.

You know all of this, ‘cause you can practically read his mind, so you decide to drive him crazier. “I want you…” you start in the same low tone, bordering on sultry. 

Eddie’s already nodding. 

You smile and continue. 

“…To go pick your most favorite pumpkin in the whole patch, and then take me to Benny’s Burgers.”

Feeling slightly disappointed and utterly teased, Eddie searches the entire patch and finds the weirdest-shaped, wartiest pumpkin the earth has ever grown. He drives the gang to the diner after and sits you in his lap when all of you squeeze into one booth. 

He shares his milkshake with you and lets you have the pickle slice that comes with his burger when you ask for it (‘cause everyone knows it’s the best part). It’s the purest form of love, if he has anything to say about it.