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junipercreeps · 7 months

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🔖 Chapter Two - A Dangerous Gamble

My mother's letter weighed on my mind the next morning. Due to my privileged situation, I had my own bathroom, where I now stood, gazing at my blurred reflection in the mirror. Blurred because the steam had laid a veil over its surface.

A veil that also shrouded my state of mind.

"You will hear from them."

I couldn't reach my mother by phone, so I sat for a while, wrapped in the fluffy fabric of my bathrobe on my bed, staring at my laptop's screen.

My email program was open. It might seem strange to others, but the easiest way to reach my parents was through their company's inbox. We had been communicating this way for several years already.

However, once I had formulated my questions, doubts began to overwhelm me. Why had she given me a letter? Why not an email? Why not a message on my phone? Why not a personal conversation?

The last question was easy to answer. My parents were on a different continent, working. Neither of them had bothered to reschedule their meetings.

But why a letter?

I closed the laptop with my composed but unsent email to my mother. As I dressed in a simple, comfortable outfit—a short cotton skirt and a fine gray sweater—I wondered if it might be better not to mention a word about the student fraternity.

Perhaps she had handed me this handwritten letter to avoid leaving electronic evidence?

This time, I examined myself in the larger mirror mounted on the inside of my wardrobe. The past few years had turned me into a smaller version of my mother. The long blonde hair, the straight nose. Even the color of my brown eyes. I pulled my hair into a simple ponytail and tucked my phone into the waistband of my skirt.

I wanted to explore the campus. Just two more days until classes started, and I would definitely need to make use of these orientation days, even if anxiety still clung to me.

Outside, I was greeted by a mild autumn day. It had rained the night before, and for a moment, I closed my eyes, letting the clarity of the air soothe me. Until the voices of other students entered my consciousness. Clusters of people strolled past me as if I didn't exist, something I was used to as an unassuming person. And something that often suited me quite well.

There were advantages to not standing out.

Oxford looked like something straight out of a storybook. The perfectly manicured grass, the many paths between the buildings. The scent of nature and pastries or coffee as you passed by the numerous little stands. Students looking for members for their clubs and organizations called out over the heads of the crowd. Despite the hustle and bustle, I felt immediately at ease.

Although I was actually already aware that no secret fraternity would appear in the form of a stall to my left or right, I still scanned every nook and cranny for the word Samuin.

I had googled the word.

It meant Samhain. The direct translation would be union. But basically, it was the term for a festival where the souls of the dead are consecrated. One of four major Celtic festivals.

Why would you pick a name like that for a fraternity?

After I sat down on a wall headily with a croissant and a coffee away from the hustle and bustle, I searched my memories for signs and mentions of my parents in the past. Anything that could help me recognise members of Samuin.

But there wasn't much to be found. The incident with the judge was the first thing that came to my mind. But apart from that, there were only ever small mentions at family dinners or summer parties.

"Acquaintances from Oxford."

"Former president of our fraternity."

I chewed more slowly.

The former president... who was she again?

Lydia Hawthorne!

I praised my good memory, remembering back to the beach house party when I was sixteen and secluded with my braces, playing with the cat in the pool house while the other families' kids had fun in the pool.

Lydia Hawthorne. Her name came to mind, her face did not.

I sighed and emptied my coffee in frustration.

There were only two things left on my list for today's errands. Visit one of the libraries that held literature for my degree course and find somewhere to buy some groceries for the week.

The beauty of Oxford was that it was a world all its own. With countless buildings, shops and a multitude of places for me to explore. As lively as the campus was, the libraries I passed were quiet. Only the Bodleian Library seemed to be well visited and marvelled at. Definitely a visit that would be on my agenda in the near future.

Before finding the entrance to the Radcliffe Science Library, I wandered around following various signs several times. Finally, I gave in and used Google Maps because the buildings looked so similar that I had gotten myself thoroughly lost.

After half an hour, I entered the quiet, cool library. A kind lady smiled at me and waved me over.

"Welcome to Oxford! What degree programme?" the lady asked.

"Psychology," I replied shyly, and she handed me a map for reference.

"If you need specific literature later, there's an online catalog you can check. But here, you can see where you can study and the different rooms available," she explained.

I nodded and glanced at the map briefly.

"The Radcliffe Science Library is one of the largest Bodleian Libraries here in Oxford. You'll have a lot to discover here," she added.

I thanked her and found myself amidst floors that couldn't be more different from each other. Dark wood paneling mixed with modern white walls and glass elements. Rooms like the Lankester Room, with round ceiling lamps closely spaced, illuminating the many desks where nobody was currently sitting.

I trudged up to the upper floors and got lost somewhere in the back row of the seventh floor, where a book titled "Moral Dilemmas: Philosophical and Psychological Issues in the Development of Moral Reasoning" caught my attention. I only looked up from the pages when I heard voices approaching.

"Don't test my patience."

"Was that a command, My Lady?"

I furrowed my brow. I recognized a male and a female voice. Her tone didn't sound particularly friendly, and I couldn't ignore the playful undertone in his words.

"Corbin, we overdid it last year. Your little plaything is already looking at me as if I'm her biggest competition."

"But you are her biggest competition."

She laughed, but it wasn't the kind of laughter that made you want to join in. It was the kind of laughter from a woman that sent shivers down your spine. I slowly rose and quietly returned the book to the shelf, trying to make as little noise as possible.

"I have no competition. You belong to me and will always belong to me."

"Is that so?" the man whispered, and then, just as I was about to make my presence known, I heard them kiss.

"Not here," she said quietly but unconvincingly.

"Right here, sis. Right here."

I froze and a strange feeling spread through my stomach.

Who gave themselves such weird nicknames? I was gripped by some kind of invisible hand that stopped me from leaving.

"No one will come to the science library on the first day of orientation," the male voice said, and I heard the hasty rustle of clothes.

"They'll catch us eventually. And then our parents will kill us."

This couldn't be true. I looked around. Looking for a way to escape, but there was no other door behind me and unfortunately the shelves always ended flush with the wall.

So, I waited. Hiding on the back shelves, being as quiet as I could. And not even twenty-four hours on campus I had witnessed, along with the books around me, a dangerous game between brother and sister, not knowing what else this information would mean for me.

#dark academia #writing prompt #angstober #angstober 2023 #writing challenge #inktober

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rahmercy · 1 year

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sukunasbabymama · 3 years

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Portrait.

⌗ Summary: when they bring their s/o to a meeting but the reader gets bored easily and starts sketching them in a notebook.

⌗ Pairing: Sanzu Haruchiyo, Kakucho Hitto, Ran Haitani.

⌗ Warnings: None, i guess.

⌗ A/N: I can’t draw to save my life so… yeah.

Request.

Sanzu Haruchiyo.

It was a late meeting and you were partying with him, so obviously he just threw you in the back of his car to accompany him to the meeting. Sadly, as soon as his boss starts talking about numbers and shipments you get bored so silently you take the notebook in your boyfriend’s hand and start sketching him, not wanting to disturb them.

As usual, he’s giving his undivided attention to his boss. He slides one hand over your thigh, kneading it softly, when you put your hand on top of his to caress it he looks at you and gasps softly.

“Who’s that?” He softly whispers.

“Haru.” You whisper back.

“He’s hot.” He says and you roll your eyes. “Just like you ba—,”

“Sanzu.” Mikey says in a cold tone, and Sanzu smiles unapologetically.

“Sorry boss, but the sketch is good.” Mikey frowns and walks to you, getting behind your chair and leaning a little to see, he raises his eyebrows with surprise.

You are gripping your man’s hand, nervous of the sudden attention.

“That’s good, mind to make another one of us? The meeting hasn’t finished.” The leader says, patting your head softly, you nod with a smile.

“Yes boss!”

“Call me Manjiro.” He smiles.

“UH? AND I CAN’T?” Sanzu’s loud ass says, you just laugh.

Kakucho Hitto.

It was uncommon for him to even have you in the same room with his members, but sadly Sanzu called him just when he was taking you to buy your art supplies so naturally you ended up on his seat. Since your boyfriend is the third in command, his boss is in the middle of you and Sanzu, you on the left and the other on his right. Not wanting to make Kakucho more stressed than what he already is by having you hear a lot of violent stuff, you take one of your notebooks and start sketching him, who was on the other side of the table explaining stuff that you don’t want to understand.

“Ohhh, that’s pretty.” Mikey says and you smile softly, embarrassed that the most powerful person in the scene is watching you drooling over your man.

“Thank you.”

“Can you draw the gang’s logo here?” Mikey asks, pointing at your notebook.

“Oi! Stop distracting him, babe!” Kakucho says, walking to you.

“Wha— I didn’t!” You say, frowning.

When he gets closer enough to see what got his boss distracted he smiles, leaning down to kiss your cheek.

“You made me a lot shorter now, love.” You nod, forgetting about everybody in the room.

“Last night I made you so tall that I wanted to see how this would come out.” You smile sweetly at him and he nods.

“Perfect, like always.” You look down, trying to surpass a giggle from coming out of your mouth.

“Please let the lovebirds go to their house. I can’t stand this.” Kokonoi groans.

“I do.” Mikey says, chewing on his Dorayaki, he looks at you and gives you a close-eyes smile. “Keep going with your love scene.”

“Boss!!”

Ran Haitani.

Today you surprised him by coming to his office to have lunch with him but found him already running to a meeting. Ran, being chaotic as ever, just dragged you with him, saying that y’all would have that lunch together yes or yes.

That’s why now you’re sitting in the middle of him and his brother, all sleepy from the constant numbers that Kokonoi is exposing at the moment. Naturally, you start drawing your man’s side profile on Rindou’s notebook, while playing with Ran’s fingers with your free hand.

After a while, he looks over at you since you haven’t talked not once, and gasps.

“My, my, that’s amazing love,” He murmurs, bumping his elbow to your side softly. You smile.

“Thank you.”

“Oh, so, can you make me with more mu—,”

“Bye.”

“I love you~”

“I don’t.”

Rindou just laughs at y’all shenanigans.

🔖: @saturnmitsuya @milliumizoomi @dai-tsukki-desu @haitanigigi @yunho-leeknow @melaninnntae @keimisan @welkinmoongrab @plutosexc @ccxiia @manjiroarchiviste @aasouthteranoswife @wockeshaa

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dilxcs · 3 years

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🔖 writings and such - haikyuu headcanon

things my best friend has done for me, but as haikyuu boys [pt.1] [pt.2]

honestly he deserves a raise for putting up with me, but he’s also the one who pisses me off on the daily so i guess that evens it out lmao

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characters : miya osamu, iwaizumi hajime, suna rintarō, bokuto kōtarō, akaashi keiji and kuroo tetsurō

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miya osamu

drove from his house to mine (which is roughly 45 minutes with no traffic), just because i told him i would be eating alone for dinner. also the one who came the other day as well to peel and cut my mango, because i told him i really craved some but i can’t peel it lmao. oh and since he works at a boba store he will bring me boba when i ask him, even though it’s prohibited for the coworkers to do so

iwaizumi hajime

sober protector during those asian parties when i would get completely wasted (like the kind u don’t feel like urself anymore). makes sure no dipshits comes up to me. would pretend he’s my boyfriend to get said dipshits out of my hair. also the one who took me back home, pulled my hair out of the way and soothed my back while i was throwing up my insides and took of my make-up while i was laying in bed

suna rintarō

the one who would immediately call me, when he notices that i sound very negative on text. will talk to me for hours on end until i become a laughing mess. also the one who helps me through panic attacks, talking with his softest voice and making sure to remind me that nothing bad can happen to me

bokuto kōtarō

insists on carrying the umbrella when it’s raining, making sure that my whole body is covered (even when half of his own body is getting wet). also the one who will wrap his jacket around the both of us while holding me tight, cause i got really cold and i felt an anxiety attack coming

akaashi keiji

drove me to the airport at 03:34 am for my flight to gran canaria, even though he just came back from work and didn’t had the time to sleep. also the one who helped me check-in my bags and wrote down a note for me on what steps to take when taking a flight, cause it was my first time flying alone and i have really bad anxiety

kuroo tetsurō

always orders my food/drinks or ask the questions i want to ask but am scared to do so. he does this without any complaint, but will still tease me for it. will never let me pay for ANYTHING and literally pushes me to the side if i try to pay. says it’s because i’m younger than him. never judged me for being to blunt and actually appreciates me for my honesty. also never fails to amaze me with his ‘tea’ and always asks me for advice, even though he won’t use it

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[a/n] : i saw this idea from @woahsamu and i really liked theirs (credits to them + here u can read their take), so i thought “hey, my best friend is a guy ! what are some things he has done for me?” and it brought me back memory lane, cause i haven’t seen him for a long time due to covid. so yea, i’ll probs make another part of this

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silverstonesainz · 6 months

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mine, mine, mine

─── the one where you and carlos have that dreaded conversation frat!carlos x reader 5.4k words prompt: "wait, don’t go yet, please” + “you're all mine, you got that? i'm not sharing” + accidentally referencing them as my’ which led to the ‘what are we?’ question warnings: profanity, alcohol consumption, mentions of drugs, kind of suggestive, descriptions of a toxic relationship.

d rambles. . . i combined a couple of prompts because i thought they would all work really well together, hope that’s okay!! anyways, i did what i always do and made this… well happy reading!!

come over tonight

you stare at the text on your screen, thumb swiping against the screen. a grey bubble pops up, three dots. he types, then it disappears.

to study … or not.

you bite down on your bottom lip, placing your phone screen down on your chest as you stare up at the ceilings. there was an easy answer to his invitation, and it ends with your pride and ego intact. you won’t have to suffer through another round of self-doubt or the imminent heartache the boy always seems to leave you with.

but it also means no carlos. it would make today three weeks since you saw him last, three weeks since he was all over you, every inch of you. you shudder at the memory, the ghost of his touch against your skin.

you inhale sharply, picking your phone back up as you type out a response.

text you when im on the way

the closer you got to the fraternity house, the worse your gut feels. you have your hands slot between your arm and sides to keep them warm from the crisp autumn air. it’s uncharacteristically quiet on 5th street. no parties or kick backs, it’s pretty much a dead week for greek life. but even so, there were still cars lined up outside of the phi gamma theta house, some you’ve seen and others not. carlos’s blue ferrari is parked just a couple feet from the walkway to the door. you glide your hand along the glossy paint, the warmth seeping into the pad of your finger. he must’ve arrived not too long before you.

the music is loud, loud enough that not even the walls could muffle the beats. the bass thumps against the door, shakes the knob as you reach out to twist it open.

it’s almost embarrassing how unphased the brothers in the foyer are by your entrance. even more so at the way lando seems to have been expecting your arrival.

“hey you!” the brit grins widely, arms outstretched to pull you into a hug. “haven’t seen you in a while. missed having you here at the house.”

your arms go around him, hand rubbing his back as he squeezes you tightly in return. “been busy.”

“you’re always busy,” lando pulls away, hands gripping your shoulders as he looks you up and down. “carlos is in the kitchen with max.”

you blush, nodding as you mutter a soft thanks. lando pats your back, walking past you and over to oscar who is nearly asleep on the couch. you wave and exchange subtle nods as you walk across the house and into the kitchen. it smells heavily of garlic, a little too much like garlic. you scrunch your nose, making your way over to the counter where carlos and max are leaning up against.

max spots you first, smile wide as he waves. it closes their conversation, forces carlos to turn towards you. you try not to read into his reaction, the way he smiles or the bit of relief as he sighs. you try not to acknowledge that he might be happy to see you.

it’s nothing. this is nothing.

the dutch boy opens his right arm for you and you gladly walk into him. he gives you a squeeze, tight against his side as he calls you something in his mother tongue that you can’t quite place. the moment is short lived, releasing and allowing you to walk the two steps over to the man who invited you in the first place.

“hi.” you say softly, head tilted up towards him with a shy smile.

he smiles back, leaning in to press a kiss onto your lips. “hi.”

your cheeks heat up, stepping over to carlos’s side as he and max pick up their conversation again. they exchange a couple of words about some event they’re throwing before the spaniard is patting his brother’s shoulder and the boy walking away with a soft see ya.

carlos hums, pulls the strap of your backpack off your shoulder before slinging it onto his own. he holds his hand out, muttering a soft c’mon. you take his hand, slotting your smaller fingers between his own ad allow him to lead you out of the kitchen. the house is buzzing with conversation, competing with whatever mix is playing on the loud speaker. “was the drive over okay?”

“yeah,” you breath, “yeah it was fine.”

he let’s go of your hand at the base of the staircase, gesturing for you to step ahead of him and you oblige. several brothers say goodnight as the two of you make your way up, and you return a tight lipped smile and wave. the further up the stairs, the further down the hallway, the quieter the house becomes. most of the doors are left open, some a crack and others wide enough to see a mess that makes your skin crawl. you stop at a forest green door, waiting patiently for carlos who just smiles.

“it’s unlocked.”

you nod awkwardly, gripping the bronze knob and twisting the door open. contrary to the rest of the house, carlos’s room is neat. freakishly neat— like sheets tucked under the mattress and pillows stacked by size neat. it smells of cologne and weed. it smells like carlos.

you kick off your sneakers and placing them by the door before plopping yourself onto his bed. you watch as he moves about his space, setting your bag down next to your feet before he begins to fiddle with the himself. he pulls his sweatshirt off hangs it off the back of his chair before pulling his sneakers off his feet and pushing them into the bottom of his closet. then he turns, scratches the back of his head as he looks you up and down. you smile awkwardly, lips parted to break the tension but carlos beats you to it.

he takes long strides across the tiny room, right hand cupping your jaw as he presses his lips hard against your own. you yelp, surprised as you fall back onto the bed. carlos breaks his fall with his opposite hand, lips not missing a beat in your new position. you’re stunned only for a second before your fingers find their way into his hair as you kiss him back with just as much veracity. it’s messy, desperate, makes your heart beat so fucking hard you’re sure it’ll crack through your ribs,

he digs his teeth into the soft flesh of your bottom lip gently, prodding a moan from the back of your throat. it’s soft, quiet as you try to keep up with carlos, but enough to have him smirking into the kiss. he pulls away, eyes wide as he scans your face.

“missed you.”

“did you?” you tease, pushing a strand of his hair backwards.

“i always do.”

butterflies. it flutters, sits in your gut as you try to bite back a smile. you tried to look unconvinced, rolling your eyes playfully as you push back on his chest and effectively off of you. he chuckles, leaning back onto his elbows as he watches you reach over his bed to pull your bag up.

“you don’t believe me?”

you pull your computer out, “mmm, not really. i just think you’re horny.”

it’s carlos’s turn to roll his eyes. he pushes himself up, leaning over to you to kiss you again. “i can’t miss you and be horny too?” you snort, shaking your head as your fingers begin to click at the keys. you can see carlos tilt his head in your peripheral. “what are you doing?”

“studying”

his hand rests flat against the back of your laptop, shutting it in your lap and taking it away to place on his desk. you sigh his name, protest quietly as you let him drag you onto his lap, legs settled on either side of his hips. you whine when his hands sneak their way up your shirt and begin to palm your breast over your bra.

“carlos.” “hm?”

his fingers slip beneath the padding, kneading harder. you inhale sharply, shakily, looking down at him. he pays no mind to the look you give him, jaw slightly offset as he watches the way his hands move beneath your top.

“study.” “mmmm… no.”

his hands pull away from your chest, coming down to the hem of your shirt so he can peel it off you.

you let him.

“but you said-“ “later, bug. relax, let me show you how much i miss you.”

studying happens an hour later, spent on your stomach on his bed while he’s at his desk scribbling away. the house has quieted down, the music no longer thumping against the door and the mixed chatter all but died in the night. it’s nearly eleven.

you hum, shutting your computer and pushing yourself off your comfortable position. you begin to pack away your things, stuffing notebooks and highlighters away where they belong before picking up your clothes discarded on the floor. jeans and an old t-shirt, and the beige bra by the door. carlos drops his pencil, turns in his chair as he watches you pull his shirt off your frame.

“what are you doing?”

“it’s late.” you say matter of factly, folding the grey material before tossing it on his bed. you pull the straps of your bra onto your shoulders, reaching behind you to clasp the prongs together. “gotta get home.”

“spend the night.”

you snort, shaking your head, “i have an eight am tomorrow.”

“so do i.”

you jump into your jeans, buttoning them before leaning down to press a kiss to his lips, “can’t tonight carlos. but maybe tomorrow?”

“well i got a date party tomorrow, but…”

you freeze, but only for a second. it’s brief, just a moment where you feel your spirit shake beneath your chest. just one second then you’re reaching down to swipe your shirt off the floor. you didn’t now of any date party, and you could feel a dull ache in your chest over the fact he didn’t invite you. he isn’t obligated to, he’s not obligated to do anything when it comes to you. but you just thought—

you shake it off. you thought. you thought. that means nothing. you have nothing left else to say, so you pick up the pace. you rush to pull your bag over your shoulders.

“then, i’ll see you when i see you. three weeks from now maybe?” it’s a petty dig, a poor attempt to get the last word in as you force your heels into your beat up sneakers.

“ai, don’t be that way.”

“i’m not being any way.” you insist, hand clutching the knob. you’re about to pull it open but carlos is quick to lean his weight against it, left palm flat on the dark green wood.

“it’s not my date party. i was invited, okay?” he tilts his head, cranes his neck so he meets your eyes even if you so desperately try to avoid his gaze. “lando is getting with the girl’s little and… i’m there for moral support. i’m there for him.”

his thumb and index finger pinch your chin gently, force you to look up at him and his stupid stupid wide eyes. he doesn’t say anything else, just watches and waits to see what your next move is.

you don’t want to show that you’re relieved, you’d hate for him to see what kind of effect he has on you even if you’re pretty sure he already has a clue. that’s why he explained himself, why he makes you look up at him while his stare remains so soft— so reassuring. but you are. you’re slightly relieved, reassured, and not as upset as you were working yourself up to be.

but only just slightly.

“fine.” you mumble. “well. just text me when you have the time.”

it’s snarkier than you mean for it to be. you can tell by the way his expression falters for a second— just one second— before he pulls his weight off the door and allows you to open it.

“i’ll walk you out. that okay?”

you nod, hands clutching at the straps of your backpack before stepping out into the hallways. you walk several steps ahead of them, past shut bedroom doors and composite photos that dated back before your time. you hear carlos pad behind you, making no attempt to close the gap between you.

it’s weird to see the house so quiet and with so many lights off. most of the men have retreated back into their rooms, only oscar and jack in the kitchen as they talk quietly with each other. both australians don’t notice you or carlos as you pass, too deep in whatever it is to care. carlos stops to push the door open, muttering something about finishing up and going to bed, before he continues to follow you to the front door. speakers are left set up, lando’s dj equipment left messily on the pong table. it’s a mess of wires and a poor attempt to make the foyer looks party ready.

carlos pulls the front door open for you, shuts it behind you as he follows you to your car. and it’s only when you’re about to pull at the driver’s door does he finally pull at your wrist. he turns your body towards him, fingers gliding down to cup your hand in his larger one.

“we’re gonna have a kickback here after the date party. come by.”

“not sure my presence would be appreciated.” “well i don’t care. it’s not their house and you’re my—“

he stops himself. you’re my and then nothing. your heart stops in your chest, knocks the air out of your lungs. you wonder if you’ll ever hear the end of that line, if you’ll see the day he’ll say it.

carlos exhales through his nose, smiling as he releases your hand to cup your cheek. “just come tomorrow. okay? and if anyone has an issue with it then they can fuck off.” you cough a laugh, a short ha ha that makes him smile wider.

“i’ll text you.”

“okay.” “okay.”

quiet, comfortable silence. you ignore the way your stomach does backflips, let yourself instead settle in the bit of security his invitation provides. he wants you around. maybe this time it’s different.

carlos leans in, pulls you to him as he kisses you for the last time that night. it’s firm, warm, soft. it fills your chest, makes it swell as you kiss him back. he pulls away for a moment before planting one last peck.

“drive safe, okay? text when you get home.”

what time will you be back at the house?

you were ready. embarrassingly enough, you were ready to head to the phi gam house and carlos had yet to text you when it was appropriate to arrive. and from the multiple instagram stories you just watched, the date party was likely still ongoing.

your phone pings, and you unlock it in an instant. embarrassing.

date thing just ended. come in 30? we still have to set up. new members didn’t do it right annoying

you grin at your screen. embarrassing.

maybe older brothers should be setting a better example i’ll come around 10 then. need me to bring over to the house?

you push yourself off your bed, sit at your vanity as you stare at your make up for n-th time in the last hour. you press down on your smile lines, flatten any creasing, blend your blush. you do just about anything to make thirty-something minutes fly by quickly. your phone pings again, one with a reaction to your text and then another reply.

just bring yourself. see you soon bichito.

you leave it at that. homework makes thirty minutes fly by quickly. a little too quickly. after submitting your discussion for the week, forty minutes have flown past you and you were scrambling out of the house. you say quick goodbyes to your roommates, who only give you a funny look when you take a pizza from the box on the counter and yell goodbye. you type a quick text to carlos to let him know you’re on the way before starting your car and driving towards 5th street.

you see the purple led lights through the window, hear the soft thump of lando’s mix muffled by the walls of the phi gamma theta house. the closer to the door, the louder the crowd becomes. the door swings open, alex smiling down at a girl as he holds it for her. his eyes meet yours, wide with shock. but a happy sort of shock.

“hey you, didn’t know you were coming tonight!”

you ignore the way the girl looks you up and down. “yeah. hope that’s alright?”

“of course. carlos is inside, bar i think.”

you mumble a thanks, walking past him into the house before he closes the door. the kickback is a little bigger than you anticipated, with enough bodies in the room for it to feel stuffy. you smile at girls who smile your way, say hello to brothers who are excited by your arrival. and time and time again, you are directed in the direction of carlos.

as alex said, he’s at the bar. he’s leant up against the bar in a grey long sleeve and black jeans, red cup already in his hand. leant up against the bar talking to charles, laughing at something he said. he looks glorious, leant up against the bar.

god.

carlos sees you before you get to him, smiling over at you as he raises his arm to make room for you to fit into his side. he presses a kiss to your temple when you’re close enough. “was wondering where you were.”

you say hi to charles, and to yuki behind the bar. “sorry. got caught up on homework.”

he hums, nods. yuki sets a red cup on the edge of the bar, flicking his chin. “vodka sprite?”

you smile gratefully, saying thank you over the music as you lean across carlos to grab the cup. you ask how was the date party— mini golfing, if you want to get specific. it’s a simple question, one that sets charles off into a list of complaints and carlos into a fit of laughter. he’s such a fucking cheater! no charles, you just suck.

“i saw him nudge the ball, i swear!” charles protests, handing his cup over to yuki who refills it immediately.

“mate. what the fuck do you think we’re supposed to be doing in mini-golf?” carlos laughs.

“not nudge the ball before it’s your turn.”

you laugh, leaning back into carlos as he tightens his hold around you. “i dunno charlie, it sounds like you’re just a sore loser.”

the monegasque scowls, eyes squinted and lips pursed. “you’re biased.”

“of course she is,” carlos answers, “she’s my girl, who else would she side with.”

my girl. my girl, my girl, my girl. you smile, even if your heart is racing at a thousand miles an hour, even if your throat tightens and seems to run dry. you sip on your drink, watch as charles smirks and rolls his eyes.

“whatever.”

you try not read into it. try to go about the night not thinking of the way carlos called you his girl, how sure he sounded. but it’s hard, hard when it’s all you hear as the night carries on. that’s my girl is imprinted onto your skin when he says it after you sink a ball during a game of pong. my bug when you return from the bathroom. mine, when an unknowing brother has your attention for longer than carlos liked.

“you're all mine,” he whispered when he finally pulls you from your conversation, “you got that? i'm not sharing"

my, mine. my, mine.

his. his. all his.

you’re attached to carlos until he is whisked away to help george with something. then you’re left alone, wandering around the house. you hop from conversation to conversation, play catch up with a few girls until you finally make your way to the dance floor. lando stand before the turntables, twisting knobs and pushing buttons as he smoothly transitions into the next mix. you dance some, alcohol loosening you at your joints and making it so much easier to move. you swing your hips left to right, jump up and down, do it all until your legs ache and you’re out of breath.

you squeeze between bodies, eyes searching the crowd for carlos. but you see everyone else but him. he’s no where to be seen, but neither was george so you shrug it off and push yourself towards the clearing of the crowd. you walk around people, making your way up the makeshift platform and over to lando, who shoots you a toothy grin as he presses one last button and backs from his equipment.

he hugs you into his side briefly, lips moving into your ear, “thought i saw you! where’s carlos?”

“with george!” you answer, eyes falling to the table. “how much longer you up here for?”

“ah, on my last song before we switch back to aux… wanna have a go?”

you shake your head, but he smiles and tries to convince you otherwise. he explains the basics, none of it sticking to your vodka-muddled brain. and just as another beat drop approaches, he points to a button lighting up blue. press on this when i say. he smiles cheekily, pushing levers and twisting knobs before nodding and calling out now. you do as you're told, bringing a semi-smooth transition into the last song of his set. you laugh, lando smiles. he holds his palm up for you, one you gladly slap enthusiastically while he praises you.

“now you can dj for us at our next party!”

you giggle, shaking your head as you stand back, watching as lando begins to slowly transition out of his mix and plugging the aux line into his laptop to play a playlist made for nights like these. then he’s stepping off the platform, holding his hand out for you to help you down. you walk with him, around the house and past his drunk brothers and sorority women, all the way to the bar where oscar now stands. lando convinces you to a round of shots with him, and refills your drink halfway. your head is light, body floating. you were on cloud nine and all you need…

your head whips around, eyes scan the room. you look for a mop of dark hair, the broad shoulder, looks for just glimpse of him but once again, he’s nowhere to be found.

“you know what carlos went to help george with?” you lean in towards lando, setting your cup down on the kitchen island. you watch him look around the room the same way you did just seconds earlier before shaking his head.

his eyes are still across the room, but he leans in towards you so you can hear him over the music. “no clue, but george is over there talking to mick so… carlos is probably around here somewhere.”

you try to hide the disappointment, the bit of anxiety that is starting to make its way through your bloodstream. you snatch your cup back up again, bringing it to your lips as you drink the remnants of your mix before tossing the red plastic in a bin. you let the brit know you’re gonna take a lap before making your way around the house. you’re pushing past people again, finding your way through every hallway and room, pathetically looking for a man who has seemingly ditched you at his own house. you’re walking in circles like a lost puppy.

carlos walks back into the home through the front door. you catch him just as he shuts it behind him, with his hair in disarray and eyes glazed over. he’s confused, disoriented, trying to adjust to the stark contrast between the quiet outside and the chaos inside. you watch as he scans the room, acknowledging brothers who wave over at him with a flick of his chin and a half effort at a wave hello. he looks and looks, and finally he sees you.

you’re about to walk over, to greet him and ask him where he’d been. but then the door opens and she walks in. you’ve never met the girl, never seen her in your life. but what you have seen is that glow. the shy smile she wears as she tucks her hair behind her ear and retreats to her sisters that wait excitedly for her. you recognize that look, and that’s when it clicks. the hair. the eyes. the disappearing for god knows how long.

you feel sick.

you want to run. you want to scream. your skin is on fire with rage. you turn on your heel before he takes his first step, storming into the living room area in search of your purse. brothers and their partners for the night are scattered around the room, and you try to ignore the multitude of making out and groping going on as you search for your purse.

you hear him call your name behind you, but you ignore him. you pull at the pillows and he calls your name again. you move over to the next couch, and all of sudden you feel his hand on your wrist and you’re yanking yourself out of his hold. your eyes are wide, angry, with your index finger in his face as if to tell him to stop.

“don’t you dare.”

“it’s not what you think.”

you scoff, turning around and pull at the pillows again, finding your bag beneath the mess of throws. “it’s never what i think, always what you say. that’s what’s always right, right?” you sling the thin strap over your shoulder. you don’t bother to wait for his answer, pushing past him as you make your way towards the front door.

he calls out your name again, a groan following after. “can you… just wait. don’t go yet, please.”

you ignore him, ignore the looks you’re getting, ignore the whispers, everything. the door swings open as you twist the knob, but you never hear it slam shut because carlos is hot on your heels.

“you’re mad over nothing!”

that makes you stop. it makes your blood boil, makes the anger grow, and it makes you stop. you inhale sharply— shakily. “nothing?”

“there wasn’t anything going on, nothing was going on. you’re upset over nothing.”

you turn on your heel to look at the man who stands three feet ahead of you. his brows are furrowed— annoyed— and his lips are parted as he breathes.

“it’s always nothing. it’s always no big deal.” you scoff, “i’m always overreacting. right?” he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even bat an eye at the words that spill out of your mouth. “you are the most insufferable man i have ever met, carlos sainz. you drive me fucking crazy, and not in a good way.” you push your hair back roughly, pulling at the strands as your fingers glide down the length of it.

“will you please come inside so we can talk?”

“no, i’m going home.” you turn again, pushing around your little purse for your car keys.

“you’ve been drinking.” carlos reasons, to which you laugh.

“not enough!”

“for fucks sake, can we just-“ he tries to pull you back to him again, and you pull out of his grasp immediately.

“no! we cannot just. i’m so…” your eyes begin to water, tears blurring your vision. god you hated every second of this moment. here are again, showing just how fucking weak you are for man who continues to play with you. for a man who has given you no good reason to stay and yet is also a man you always come back to. “we’re not talking about this. i’m so tired carlos. i really am.”

“come inside please. let’s just—“

“i’m not coming back inside!” you scream. “i’m not going to walk back in there and let you convince me to spend the night, because i will. i don’t want to lay in your bed while you try to convince me that i was just seeing things because… you will. and i’ll be stuck in this fucking cycle and i just can’t fucking do it anymore.”

carlos’s lips are clamped together, nostrils flared as he stares at you. he watches the tears that escape you, the tension weaved into every muscle of your face. you both stand there, unsure of what to say, unsure of what to do.

then he says your name, resigned. it sounds deflated, like smashing against the keys of a broken piano. “but this time, it wasn’t anything i swear. whatever you’re thinking, it didn’t happen.”

you look up, hoping to stop the tears from falling but it’s hopeless. you’re so fucking hopeless.

“so you didn’t fuck her?” you sniffle, looking at him with bloodshot eyes. he shakes his head and you stiffen up. “didn’t touch her?” he hesitates, but shakes his head anyways. and you scoff. “you touched her.”

“i didn’t fuck her.” “but it doesn’t negate the fact!”

your shoulder slump, defeated. your heart aches in your chest, crumbles at you feet and onto the cold pavement of fifth street. “it doesn’t fucking make a difference carlos. it still fucking hurts. it’s still a fucking slap to my face.”

the wind is cold, prickles at your skin like needles. your eyes fall shut, pushing tears from your eyes and onto your cheek. you feel the pad of his thumb against the skin of your cheek and you flinch. your body stiffens, but you allow the ounce of affection. you allow yourself to soak in the false sense of security for the briefest of moments, just to quell the ache that is burning in your chest. but then you open your eyes and you’re reminded that when you walk away— if you walk away— it will hurt a million times more.

truly, you were sick of this cycle. of running back to him after he keeps you at an arms length away for weeks. you let yourself enjoy the little moments of security, knowing full well how it ends. you’ve been here before, you’ve walked this walk. but no matter how many times you go through this, the ache never dulls.

carlos cups your cheek, the pad of his thumb rough against your skin. and you lean into his touch because it’s comfortable, because it’s the only thing that feels right in a moment filled with so much wrong.

you open your eyes to look up at him, blink away the tears that obscure your vision. you inhale shakily. “what are we doing carlos?” a soft hm buzzes past his lips, and you sigh. your hand comes up to grip his, to pull it off your skin. but you keep it in yours, stare down at his rough palm that lays open in your hands before looking back up at him. “you say i’m yours. say you’re mine, mine, mine. and i just… what are we? what are we doing?”

you release his hand, watch as he stares at his palm, flexing his fingers before letting it fall to his side. carlos bites down on his bottom lip, breathing steady, and his eyes stuck on the pavement. it’s a beat, and another, before his chest heaves as he draws a deep breath in.

“you are so important—“

you shake your head, the tears come back and you make your way to the driver’s side of your car. important to me, he finishes as he follows behind you quickly. he chants your name like it’s meant to convince you to stay. like it will heal you of all the hurt he’s caused, like it makes his answer okay.

and maybe it is. logically, it’s a perfectly acceptable answer. if you were a friend. and maybe you toed the line a bit, maybe to him you were just a friend. but to you, carlos is more than that. he’s more than some guy that you have a bit of fun with, but a guy you’ve slowly begun to fall for. and you fall and fall, brace yourself for impact because you know he’s not going to catch you.

he calls your name, says please with so much desperation in his voice as you pull your door open. begs you to stop, and you do. you stop halfway into your car to look at him with the tears still pouring from your eyes. you smile sadly, pathetically, as you shrug.

“important,” you say, “but not enough. right?”

#🔖 house party #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz one shot #carlos sainz blurb #frat carlos

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silverstonesainz · 7 months

Text

a thing

─── the one where max drunkenly admits to something frat!max x reader 1.6k words prompt: putting the word "my" in front of their name when calling for them

d rambles. . . i used "my girl" instead of my + y/n bc i hate using y/n. hope thats fine!!

max’s fingers are splayed against your bare stomach, just under the hem of your crop top. he’s warm, smells of sweet musk and a mix of vodka. you stand with your back pressed against his chest, watching a match of beer pong unfold between daniel and alex. your eyes follow the white ping pong ball from side to side, watching it bounce into red solo cups. the game is neck and neck, three cups left for daniel, two for alex.

touchy. max is touchy when he’s drunk. but it’s nothing new to you, nothing new to his brothers. its why no one bats an eye when he snakes his arm around your waist, or when he rests his chin on your shoulder. it doesn’t phase anyone anymore. it doesn’t mean anything, you both insist.

it doesn’t. right?

“bets on who wins?” max says into your hear, voice loud as he competes the bass blaring through the speaker

“daniel.” you don’t miss a beat, “he always wins.”

“fine then i bet on alex.”

and at that second, the thai boy flicks his wrist a little too hard, the white ball bouncing off the plastic table and past danny. you giggle, turning your head to look at max— his face flushed and pink lips parted in disbelief.

“twenty bucks?”

his closes his mouth, pulling back slightly so that he can look at you. his eyes darken, glint of excitement in them as he grins. “you’re on.”

three perfect throws from daniel and one failed redemption shot from alex later, you’re twenty dollars richer. max glares, rolls his eyes as he crosses his arms over his chest. you grin, waving the bill in his face before stuffing into your back pocket.

“fuck you alex.” max calls out as the two boys join you.

alex laughs, leaning against the wall next to him, “what did i do?”

“lost me twenty dollars is what you did.” max flicks his middle finger up at his fraternity brother, and it returned another round of laughter.

danny slings his arm over your shoulder, pulling you into his side with a wide grin on his face. “it’s what you get when you doubt me verstappen.”

you see it, the way max’s eyes flicker from yours to daniel’s arm hanging off you. you see the way he clenches his jaw before he looks up at his brother, rolling his eyes. its less playful, more annoyed. but daniel is too oblivious, already talking to alex about a rematch.

“i’m… i’m gonna get a drink,” max mumbles, pushing himself off the wall. he stumbles past you, disappears in the mess of drunk people.

neither of the boys in your presence seem to notice the shift in the atmosphere, the way max left so abruptly. you shift on your feet, straightening your posture. daniel’s arm slides off with ease, goes unnoticed by the man as he leans in to hear whatever it is alex has to say.

“… so we play doubles then.” you hear daniel say. he turns to you, “play with me?”

you scrunch your nose, “i dunno, i’m not very good.”

“nonsense. we’ll be fine. c’mon.”

your eyes scan the room, trying to catch a glimpse of max between all the bodies in the room. but he’s lost, your don’t find him. so you concede to the offer, following daniel to one end of the table while alex pulls another brother to join him.

and true to your word, you weren’t very good at the game. but to be fair, you were much better than alex. the boy scowls at you as you make another ball, cups swindling down from seven to six. daniel chuckles beside you, giving your back a pat.

“atta girl.”

you blush, shifting nervously on your feet as daniel takes his place at the head of the table, the small ball resting between his index, middle, and thumb. it take no effort for him as he flicks his wrist, the ball coming close to a cup but ultimately bouncing off the rim. the aussie clicks his tongue, drumming his fingers against the edge of his table.

alex’s partner chases after the lost ball disappearing between bodies as he scurries for it. danny looks down at you, leans over so you could hear him.

“so you and max?”

you smile, roll your eyes, “me and max.”

“that a thing yet?”

your cheeks tint pink again, shrugging. “dunno, you’d have to ask him.”

an age old storyline, one you hate to admit you have. but it’s true. you stand in a weird limbo with max. while it’s clear to his friends, to the people around you, the words had yet to be said. because if you were both being honest, there are no real boundaries. there are no rules, no limits. just an unspoken assumption that you were only sleeping with him, and him with you. that he was only taking you out for lunch, or that he only invites you to sleep over. but you’d never really know, there isn’t much backing to the theory that it really is just you.

alex throws the ball, sinks it in the cup by you and you move it to the side. his partner does the same, and you have to toss the balls back.

danny hums, “funny, max says the same thing when i ask him.”

you turn your head, but before you could ask him to explain further, the ball bounces off the table and down to your feet. the game carries on without much conversation about max, and in the end you and daniel end up winning.

alex waves you both off, screams that he’s off to grab another drink.

you feel a tap on your shoulder, turning to see an unfamiliar face. young, almost afraid as he says your name. it’s a question, like he’s asking you to confirm you’re you. you furrow your brows, nodding, and the boy sighs relieved.

“been looking for ya. carlos is looking for you. upstairs.”

you frown but nod, thanking the boy before pushing your way through the house. you squeeze past sweaty bodies, past people making out in the open and dodge cups being passed around. you move further and further, up the stairs and away from the mess of the party below. carlos is leaned against the wall, waves you over when he sees you.

“max is asking for you.”

you tilt your head, following his lead two doors down and into the only one thats open. max sits on his bed, red in the face with a dopey smile on his face.

“there’s my girl!”

my girl. my. my. my.

you smile awkwardly up at carlos, who just chuckles. “hes been saying that for the last ten minutes. where’s my girl? find my girl.” he mocks max’s voice. “my, my, my.”

you nod, cheeks hot and lips pressed together tightly. you exhale through your nose, looking at max who reaches out of you. “yeah… i got this.”

“im across the hall if you need me.”

carlos walks out the door, humming softly as he shuts the door. you make your way to max, whose hands are quick to attach themselves to you. he pulls you between his legs, head tilted up at you. “missed you.”

“i was only downstairs.” you mumble, pushing strings of sweaty hair away from his face. his eyes falls shut, bottom lip pushed out in a pout

“with daniel.” “with our friends.”

his eyes pop open, looks up at you with furrowed brows. “you like daniel more than me?”

“why would you think that?” he shrugs, “maxy…”

“you’re my girl you know.” he mumbles, “he can’t have you.”

you chuckle. “am i? am i your girl?” its a half playful, a way to gage his reaction. to see if he laughs along or means what he says.

he frowns, “you don’t think you are?”

you shrug, pulling his hands from your figure so you can sit by him. you sigh, rubbing your face before looking back at max. his cheeks are so red, eyes so soft.

“we shouldn’t have this conversation while you’re drunk.” you mutter, biting down on your bottom lip for a second.

“i’m not that drunk-“ “-max-“ “- and if i was, it doesn’t change how i feel.”

“max.” he says your name in the same tone, and you raise a brow.

he bursts into a fit of giggles, rubbing his face before pushing his fingers through his hair. “fine. tomorrow. okay? we’ll talk.” he falls onto his bed, turns his body and pulls the covers back so he can slip under them. but he doesn’t pull it back, instead looks up at you with wide blue eyes. “you coming?”

“max.” he huffs your name back, and you scrunch your nose. “fine. i’m coming.”

he grins, watches as you kick off your shoes before slipping under the covers with him. he holds you close, eyes falling shut immediately. you watch him, watch the small content smile slip from his face he lets sleep take him.

“max” you whisper. he hums a soft hm, squeaky and tired. “will we really talk about it in the morning?”

he peaks out of one eye to look at you before shutting it again. “about you being my girl? yes.”

okay, you squeak. you turn over to switch off the lamp before melting into him again. his breathing turns shallow, sleep surely near.

you poke his chest and he whines. “so you think were a thing?”

his laugh is tired, dry, “we’ll talk in the morning. now let me sleep. my head is spinning.”

quiet. shallow breathing. the soft buzz of a forgotten party happening beneath you.

and in the dark, you feel max kiss your forehead softly.

“but yeah,” he whispers. “i think so. we’re definitely a thing.”

come to the house party!!

#🔖 house party #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen blurb #max verstappen one shot #frat max

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silverstonesainz · 7 months

Text

stuck with me

─── the one where you’re people watching with lando frat!lando x reader (est. relationship) 1k words prompt: holding them in your lap (even if there's plenty of space/seats) + "you know you're stuck with me, right?" "thank god i am…"

d rambles. . . this was a whole lot of nothing. sorry about it.

friday night on greek row was always chaotic. the streets are a bit busier than normal with sorority women running house to house, scoping out the party with the most booze and the best music. and while not every fraternity is hosting tonight, phi gamma theta is.

the house is packed, which comes as no surprise to you. everyone loves phi gam.

you squeeze past sweaty body, pushing against people who were trying to get into the kitchen. you just managed to grab yourself a drink after waiting ages for one. it’s the first party of the semester, so the amount of people at the house in the first hour of the night is a bit overwhelming. everyone was more than ready to get drunk at the expense of privileged boys living in the house— yourself included.

you finally make it back to your boyfriend, who is on the couch in the living room talking to mick about god only knows what. you smile at the people seated around, waving and yelling quick hellos over the loud music. mick begins to move over to the other end of the couch, make a bit of space for you but lando stops him.

“don’t worry mate, she’s got a perfectly good seat right here.” the boy pats his lap, to which both you and mick grimace.

“gross,” the german boy mumbles.

lando laughs as he reaches out for your hand, pulling you down onto his lap. you blush red, a little embarrassed but nonetheless you stay seated against him. you lean on the arm of the couch as opposed to your boyfriend’s chest, leaving yourself open to being part of the conversation in the group. it’s hard to converse over the loud blare of some edm mix, losing a bit of the pieces of mick’s first week and some girl’s stupid lab. you get bits and pieces of the puzzle before the blonde beside you grunts. he pushes himself off the couch.

“i’ll be back, see who the fuck is in charge of the music.”

mick saunters off, disappears in a mess of bodies. you turn a bit so that you can slide your arm around lando’s shoulder.

“feeling alright?” lando says into your ear. you nod and smile as you feel his lips against your cheek. “wanna dance?”

“in a bit.”

he nods, arm slipping around your waist as you both return to the conversation moving between the couches. the music shifts, all thanks to mick’s doing, but it’s still a bit hard to hear. the music might’ve changed but somehow the volume is still much too loud. it’s only a matter of minutes before the conversation fizzles away and people begin to melt into the chaos. some leave to dance, others to take their place at the pong table, and some into each other.

you climb off lando’s lap, pulling him up with you. “c’mon. we’re getting me another drink.”

he nods with a smile, lacing his fingers into yours and pulling you with him. moving about the house is easier with lando, people seem to always make a bit more room for him. you make it to the bar with ease, push past drunk brothers and girls you’ve never seen because it’s lando. the brit leans over the bar to speak to oscar, yells your drink for the younger member to mix. you can’t help the smile when you hear it, the flutter in your chest. tequila orange.

you watch oscar move about he bar, pulling at cups and bottles. lando stops him, grabs his wrist as he leans in. “not the cheap shit. use the one under the bar.”

oscar nods without missing a beat, returning the half empty bottle of tequila to it’s original spot before lowering himself below the bar. you watch the way he and logan move about the small space with ease. how the other boy swipes the bottle to make a drink for someone else. it’s only a couple of seconds before oscar pops up and hands lando the new red cup for you. they have a brief conversation drowned out by the music before lando waves him off and is dragging you through the house.

you find yourself stuck to lando, against his chest as he leans against the wall. you hum, sipping your drink as he leans down to point out people and faces unknown to you. he tells stories, like how pierre has been trying to get with some girl he’s currently dancing with for weeks. and how daniel is in denial over how hung up he is over the girl he claims not to be seeing. you giggle along, following along as the story changes from person to person, brother to brother.

you make a face, nose scrunched as you catch sight of charles and some girl in the corner, lips locked and hands eager. you lean into lando, “who's that?”

lando follows your gaze, stifling laughter as he shrugs. “never seen her before.”

“what happened to….” you blank, lips stretching downwards, “… i forgot her name.”

lando shrugs, “dunno. guess they’re done.”

and then carlos passes by with his fingers laced with a blonde, and you almost ask lando but he’s quick to answer. “they’re on a break. she needed space so in carlos’s words… it’s fair game.”

you nod, finishing off the rest of your drink. you look around the house, at the familiar and unfamiliar. you could almost laugh at the shift, the change and yet also the stagnancy of it all. faces, people, they come and go but the habits never seem to change.

except you and lando. that won’t change.

you turn in lando’s arms, wrapping yours around his neck and he smiles down at you. “what?”

you shake your head, stepping up onto the tips of your toes with a smile, “nothing its just… you know you’re stuck with me right?”

“thank god. i wouldn’t have it any other way.” lando grins and presses a kiss onto your lips.

“good. otherwise, i’d have to kill you.”

he laughs, nodding as he presses another kiss to your lips. “noted.”

come to the house party!!

#🔖 house party #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris blurb #frat lando

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silverstonesainz · 6 months

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it's what the people want

─── instagram polls had a bigger part in this than you'd care to admit frat!mick x reader

yourusername added to their story!

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jackdoohan posted on their story!

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jackdoohan posted on their story!

[yourusername] mickschumacher hey if i made you uncomfortable last night

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yourusername

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yourusername glad this chad hit on me at a party. happy six months bub 💙

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mickschumacher love u baby

jackdoohan glad to see yall are... doohan alright

yourusername i hate you so much

yourusername pierregasly drop him mr president

pierregasly yourusername done.

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#🔖 house party #mick schumacher #mick schumacher imagine #mick schumacher x you #mick schumacher instagram edit #instagram au #mick schumacher smau #f1 imagine #f1 edit #frat mick #liked by

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silverstonesainz · 7 months

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insatiable

─── the one where carlos can't seem to get enough frat!carlos x reader 2.6k words 18+, minors dni (warnings under the cut)

d rambles. . . once again. i have lost the plot. i got the word insatiable and this is where we ended up. hope u guys like it, and sorry it took so long.

warning(s). . . dry humping & a bit of titties. this is pretty tamed for what it could be

carlos is annoying. he might be across the room, but somehow he still manages to set your every nerve on fire. and the worst part of all this is that you can’t be annoyed.

how can you be annoyed that he’s basically chest to chest with some girl when you’re wrapped up in someone else. mark, you think is his name. you aren’t even sure. he yelled it in your ear when he was chatting you up but if you were being honest, you only indulged because you wanted to prove a point: you can play his game too.

“do you want another drink?” mark— god you hope his name is mark— asks, thumb rubbing your side.

you feign a sweet smile, shaking your head. “no i’m good. i have to head home soon anyways.”

the boy chuckles, “you can always spend the night… i do have a room here.”

you laugh, maybe a little too hard from the way the boy’s face contorts to one of embarrassment. you shake your head, patting his chest as you slyly pull yourself from his hold. you set your empty solo cup on the messy bar top before turning to him, “i’d rather be caught dead than to sleep at a frat house.”

mark nods, sipping his drink. the house is quiet, the kickback dwindling down as people begin to turn in. lando continues to play his mix, the led lights paint the room different colors, and the party seems to continue even if people were attached to the ends of the room in conversation or being led upstairs. you want to turn in, god your eyes burn with exhaustion, but your pride and ego coax you to stay. you just want to see if carlos would bring the girl up to his room.

he has every right to. why wouldn’t he do it? she’s pretty and he’s… he’s not yours.

that’s a point you both made the morning after a silly hook-up. just sex, nothing more. it’s why you leave after all is said and done, why you don’t take him up for coffee, or even sit with him in the library to study. it’s just sex, nothing more.

you try to remind yourself that as you watch carlos lean down to say something in the girl’s ear, watch as the girl laughs a little too loudly. you roll your eyes. he’s not even that funny.

“you plan on leaving anytime soon?” your head snaps back towards the boy, shaking your head to answer his question. “well maybe i can entertain you elsewhere while you’re here.”

before you can answer, you feel an arm sling over your shoulder. you look up to find alex, who doesn’t pay you any mind and directs his attention to the boy in front of you.

“george is looking for ya matt.” oh… it’s matt. “upstairs.”

the boy stares up at the older brother, nodding. “uh.. yeah right. i’ll see you around.” he says to you. you smile curtly, watching as the boy scurries away and disappears up the stairs.

alex pulls his hand from your shoulder, chuckling softly, “now tell me why you were chatting up the pledges. you know you’re way out of their league.”

“just bored.” you shrug, arms crossed over your chest. you take a peek behind alex’s tall frame, frowning to find that carlos and the girl has disappeared. you huff a sigh, “i’m gonna go. i have an early morning.”

alex nods, “i’ll walk you out.”

you do your rounds, say goodbye to friends and other familiar faces. alex follows you, nearly to the door, before he’s whisked to the mystery that goes on upstairs. you don’t mind though, making your way out the door and shutting it behind you. you stuff your hands in your pockets as you make your way to your car.

“you know, it’s a bit rude not to say bye before you leave.”

you turn around, taking a few steps backwards before coming to a stop. you stand at the end of the walkway, watching as carlos messes with his hair as he makes his way down to you. you roll your eyes, repositioning your arms to cross your chest. “you seemed a bit… occupied.”

he chuckles at the way you say it, like it’s sour on your tongue. “celosa?”

“no.” you hum, pulling out your phone to order an uber. “so where is your new friend?”

carlos reaches out to you, hand swiping your phone from your grasp before taking a peek at your screen. “she’s not my friend.”

“so girlfriend then?” he shakes his head. “fuck buddies?” he scowls.

“she’s no one. why are you ordering an uber, i can just drive you home.”

“don’t you live here?” “and?”

you bite down on your lip. on the one hand, you’d be saving a bit of cash and yourself an awkward car ride home at two in the morning. but on the other hand, you’re still annoyed with carlos. but the boy doesn’t give you the chance to ponder your options, pulling out his car keys from his back pocket and clicking the dark blue ferrari unlocked. it’s parked a couple cars ahead of the driveway, between alex george’s own. carlos hand you your phone back with a soft c’mon. you inhale sharply, taking the phone from his grasp and stuff it back into your jacket pocket.

he opens the passenger door for you, shuts it, before running over to his side and turning on his car. the car ride was… well it wasn’t comfortable. you didn’t intend on picking up a conversation with your— with him— the image of him and that girl still fresh in your mind. truth be told, you’re a little more frustrated with yourself than you are with him, because you know what being with carlos means: it means not really being with him at all. it means being with him when he’s in the mood to be with you. and you can lie to yourself and say that it’s fine, that you can live that arrangement. and maybe in the beginning you could but now you find yourself slipping. drowning.

but carlos doesn’t like the quiet tonight.

“so you and matt?”

you can’t help but roll your eyes. “what about it?”

“when did that happen?” “what’s it matter to you?”

carlos’s head snaps in your direction for the briefest of moments. you see him in your peripheral, the way his head flicks up and down in the short second he stares at you before returning his gaze to the road. “just a question.”

he makes a turn towards your apartment, and you’d never been so relieved to see home. but then he stops. carlos parks against the curb and turns off his lights. you scowl, fingers curling into your palm. “carlos.”

“why are you upset?” “i’m not.”

he raises his brow at you, and your narrow your eyes at him. “i know you. you are.”

“okay and if i am?” you snap. “it doesn’t matter.”

he scoffs, “of course it matters.”

you almost let him fool you. almost believe that he cares more than he lets on. almost.

you huff an annoyed breath, zipping your jacket all the way. “i’m gonna walk.”

“oh for fucks sake,” he leans over you, pulls the cracked open door and shuts it. “you’re not being fair.”

“carlos i want to go home.”

you glare at him. the anger bubbles in your chest when you clock the calm expression on his face, his wide brown eyes scanning your features before his hand comes up to rub his face. he says your name so softly, so gently, says it in a way you long to hear it forever.

“we were just talking.” he’s referring to the girl. your glare falls, gaze moving to the denim that hugs your thighs. “ai mi bichito, its wasn’t anything.”

“it never is.”

“because it’s not.” carlos tucks his index finger under your chin, pulls your eyes back to him. “don’t be upset with me bug.” he leans in, his cologne filling your senses as you he presses his lips to your cheek. “okay?” another kiss, then again to your jaw. “please?”

the butterflies come alive in your stomach, makes you nervous as carlos continues to move along your jaw and down to your neck. he readjusts his hand, his fingers now combing through the hair on the side of your head to hold you closer to him. he hums your name against your skin before he places another wet kiss on your neck. another plea to stop being upset as he pulls the silver zipper down your jacket and popping it open.

he pulls away, leaving you high and empty. you inhale, suddenly remembering to breathe. carlos’s thumb strokes your cheek, the pad of his thumb rough against your skin, while his wide eyes plead for some sort of forgiveness. and you should walk home. thank him for the ride and walk away.

but instead you close the gap, lips crashing against his. the kiss is hot, feverish, needy. it’s teeth clashing while hungry hands pull the other closer than allowed. his fingers weave themselves into your hair while yours are desperately grabbing at the back of his head. you moan softly as carlos bites down on your bottom lip, tongue slipping into your mouth. warm, wet, bold as it dances along with yours.

“too far.” he breaks the kiss to pull you over the middle and onto his lap. his lips are quick to reattach themselves back on your neck, hands pushing your jacket down your shoulders and off your arms, leaving you in a black cotton tank-top.

you’re sure that you’ll have a reminder of your weakness later, but it was too good to stop. you enjoyed the grazing of his teeth, the way he pulls away to lick along your skin before sucking again. you hum, grounding your hips into his. carlos hisses, hands moving to grip your hips to a halt.

“don’t start something you can’t finish baby.”

you smirk, “you doubt me?”

a pause. just a beat of silence before he laughs, shaking his head, “never.”

you smile, dipping your head to meet his lips. your hands cup his cheeks as you kiss him deeply. he releases your hips, allowing your to rock against him. he grows hard beneath you, hear him grunt as you speed up the motion. he detaches his lips from yours, moving to your collarbones. you feel his fingers dance along the skin of your shoulders, pulling the flimsy straps of your top and bra down. he pulls and pulls and his lips chase the neck line of your shirt until your breast spill out. the cold air of his ferrari sends a shiver up your spine, hardens your nipples.

carlos bites down on his lip, eyes bright as he stares at your chest. “pretty tits.”

you bite the inside of your cheek, watching expectantly as he beings to squeeze them in his hands. he massages, kneads, before pulling one into his mouth. he looks up at you while you feel his mouth around you. his tongue traces circles lightly around your bud, flicking it up and down before sucking. his opposite hand pays equal attention to your other tit, pulling and kneading, fingers rubbing your nipple before pinching lightly.

you throw your head back, moving your hips faster, desperate to chase a kind of pleasure you’re not even sure you can achieve. your legs were beginning to ache and your jeans were beginning to hurt. but the pleasure, his fucking mouth, outweighs the discomfort.

he bites down on your nipple, make you help. he chuckles against you, kissing your breast before switching to the other one. sucks and sucks, before he pulls away and kisses along the supple skin. he sucks, leaves marks that would surely bruise within the hour. you look back down, watch him with his eyes squeezed shut as he marks your delicate skin.

“need you” he mumbles. “want you.”

he releases you, leans back to watch you move against him as he reaches down to pull his shirt over his head. and in the midst of it all, you see it. the purple bruise below his collarbone. a hickey, one you know you didn’t leave for him. its a shot to your ego, makes you uncomfortable in the moment and sucks all the fun you were just having.

“i-“ you choke up on your words, swallow tightly as you clear your throat, “i can’t.”

carlos pulls his shirt off, brows furrowed. “what’s wrong?”

you pull the straps of your bra and top back onto your shoulders, reaching over for your jacket. “nothing. nothing just… i can’t. not in your car.”

carlos watches you pull yourself together on his lap, pulling your jacket back onto your shoulders. he looks confused, stares as he tries to guess why your mood has suddenly shifted. you look back up at him, the stupid thing on his chest staring right back at you. you smile thinly, lips pressed together tightly.

“well can i come up?”

you shake your head, “early morning. but next time… i’ll ah… i’ll make it up to you.”

against better judgement, against the voices screaming in your head to run, you lean down to press a soft kiss against his lips. you try to leave things open, to give him a bit of relief that everything was okay even if it really isn’t. and maybe even to as a way to ensure that you could still return to him when your feelings are no longer hurt.

how fucking pathetic.

carlos holds onto the back of your head to kiss you for a moment longer than you intend. then he releases you. “let me just drive you.”

“it’s fine. i cant walk, it isn’t far.”

“i’m not gonna let you walk alone at almost 3AM. if you won’t let me drive you, then i’ll walk with you.”

you sigh, nodding as you breathe a reluctant okay fine. you open the driver door, climbing off his lap and out of the car. cold air kisses your warm skin as you stand there, waiting for carlos to climb out of the car. you both walk the short distance to front door of your complex. you hum, digging for the keys in your pocket before looking up at him.

“thank you for the ride.”

carlos nods, reaching up to tuck a hair behind your hear. “of course… so when am i gonna see you again.”

his phone rings before you can answer. he picks it up, and you catch a glimpse of the screen before he pulls it towards him. mindy. mindy, at three in the fucking morning.

carlos presses on the power button, ending the call before looking back up at you. “i’ll see you tomorrow?”

you chuckle dryly, shrugging, “busy tomorrow.”

“okay so thursday?”

“i dunno.”

“friday?”

you laugh, shaking your head. “god, you’re insatiable.”

he smiles, its wide. so wide you see the small dimples above his upper lip, so wide his cheeks round out and eyes squint ever so slightly. “only when it comes to you.”

you rock on your feet. heel to toe. heel to toe. you almost forget. the girl. the hickey. mindy. he smiles, says shit like that and you almost forget that he’s not yours.

but he isn’t that girl’s. he’s not mindy’s. he’s not anyone else’s.

and maybe you could live with that for just a little longer before it crushes you.

“i’ll call you.” you reassure him. stupidly reassure him.

he nods, leaning down to press a soft kiss on your lips. “okay. text when you get in.” you nod, kissing him once more and he smiles. “goodnight mi bichito.”

you smile, allow the flutter in your stomach to warm you up and wrap up your wounded ego. “goodnight carlos.”

come to the house party!!

#🔖 house party #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz one shot #carlos sainz blurb #frat carlos

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silverstonesainz · 7 months

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date night: drive in ed.

─── lando takes you to his fraternity date night! frat!lando x reader

landonorris

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landonorris drive in moves are always fun with you 😙

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danielricciardo did you even watch the movie? 😗😏🫣

pierregasly bet lando couldn't tell you what the movie was about even if his life depended on it 🥵🤣

landonorris i think my general lack of comprehension skills is to blame for that one actually

yourusername landonorris you're embarrassing me 😔

yourusername

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yourusername im the passenger princess, lando is the people's princess 😌👸🏻🤴🏻

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landonorris hey! deactivate your account!

yourusername luv ya 😙😝

carlossainz55 he's my* princess Liked by yourusername

landonorris stfu 😩 landonorris L big. dropping u

come to the house party!!

#🔖 house party #lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #lando norris instagram edit #instagram au #lando norris smau #f1 imagine #f1 edit #frat lando #liked by

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silverstonesainz · 6 months

Note

hello lovely !!

— 🪩 dance floor — with the prompt ❝ now you want me like i wanted you? ❞ for carlos sainz? thank you <3 !!

too late

and one day you'll grow tired and it'll be too late frat!carlos x reader 800-ish words warnings: n/a ?

d rambles. . . this took too long and for no good reason. i hope this was alright. thanks for requesting!! <333

anger had never come so easy. it flows, like waves rushing to kiss the shore. but the rage felt more like the riptide, like being pulled under angry currents and your lungs burning for air.

you let carlos drag you through the tailgate, too furious to care about the curious stares and not-so-sublte whispers. you let him pull you along, allow him to lead the way until cold autumn air is blowing against your skin and the buzz of conversation dull behind you. carlos doesn’t turn right way, but he lets your go when he’s sure that you’re both out of earshot of the crowd of drunk college students.

his hands are on his hips for a second before the right one is pushing his hair back aggressively. you clock the way he grips at the base of his locks, tugging before releasing and doing it all over again. his warm breath is smoke in the cold hair, comes out in quick clouds of aggression. you stand there, arms crossed across your chest, weight pushed onto one leg while the opposite foot taps impatiently.

“do you have something to say? because if not i’m gonna go back-“

“why are you here?”

your head jerks back, posture straightened and eyes squinted as you look him up and down. “excuse me?”

he turns, head in his right hand as he shakes it left to right. “with him. why are you here, with him?”

him. him?

“max?” carlos picks up his head, brown eyes down turned to compliment the scowl embedded into his face. you scoff, brows knit closely together. “he invited me.”

“you listen to everything max says?”

a shot to your chest, the anger turning to humiliation, before quickly turning to rage. “you don’t get to talk to me like that, to throw some bitch fit because im here hanging out with a friend. let me be perfectly clear, a friend. max invited me— in fact you want to know who else invited me?”

“shut up.”

you don’t. “lando. oscar. daniel. charles—“

“enough!” his chest heaves, puffs of hot hair coming out quicker, accompanied by eyes no longer warm and welcoming. “bragging is not very becoming of you.”

“and jealousy isn’t becoming of you.”

the anger, the jealousy, it mixes in the quiet. it mixes with poorly mixed drinks and cheap canned liquor. with the time spent apart, with the impending realization for carlos that maybe this time it really is over. but the worry a comes later. instead panic manifests itself in an ill kept temper and words he’d soon regret.

he smirks, hides the way his heart trembles. “so how long do you need with your friend? a week, two?”

you scowl, lurching forward to press a shove into his chest. he only takes a step back, a half amused hah coughed from the back of his throat. “fuck you carlos.”

“its only a matter of time,” he taunts, “you know it’s true. you’re mine.”

your hands are shaking by your side, breath rattling in your lungs. there are tears, there are always tears when it comes to carlos. he’d seen every version of them, the ones pulled by hurt, or triggered by sadness, even the one caused by rage. he’d seen everything because it’s who he is. what he does. all this anger, all this pain, it’s always because of him.

“i was never yours. just because you say it to me over and over doesn’t make it true. i am not yours.”

who were you convincing? god you were his. irrevocably, unforgivingly his. and you resent yourself for the way you know it’s only a matter of time before you’re back in his back, back under his spell, and not doing a damn thing to stop it. your affections for the spaniard is a boulder rolling down a hill— unstoppable and bound to ruin everything in its path.

but the rage makes you brave, makes you believe that this time it’ll be different.

carlos tucks his index finger beneath your chin, tilting your head up at him so that you can see the warmth in his eyes, the lies they tell you. “you’ll always be mine.” he whispers.

“not always. one day, i’ll grow tired of you.”

“tired. of me?” he hums, shaking his head as his finger traces along your jaw, up the side of your face and pushing your fringe behind your ear.

you find it in you to push his hands away, to push away the touch your skin had been craving since you had called it quits weeks ago.

“what do you want from me carlos?”

“i only want you. i always want you.”

a humorless laugh escapes your lips, a miserable smile curved onto them. “now… now you want me? now you want me like i wanted you?”

a bit of silence. a bit of worry. a bit of regret.

“well maybe you’re too late.”

#🔖 house party #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz one shot #carlos sainz blurb #frat carlos

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silverstonesainz · 7 months

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across the room

─── the one where pierre is just a little hurt you didn't come to say hi frat!pierre x reader 1.6k words prompt: jokingly sulking and moping when someone gets attention

d rambles. . . first blurb of the frat au! hope this one is alright bc i cannot lie... i lost the plot in the middle of this. but ya. enjoy!

you weren’t one for parties on a thursday night. you’ve seen the fliers, they were posted and reposted, texted to you the moment they dropped. you left texts from brothers unanswered, unopened– even the ones from pierre. it wasn’t completely out of character to not respond, he knows how busy you are and that you aren’t one to drop your responsibilities for a party. or as pierre liked to put it– a night with him.

but for whatever reason, pierre couldn’t seem to handle your lack of enthusiasm, the lack of a response, this time around. so he called. he called an hour before the party while you were reading over your journal review. you let the phone go to voicemail, but what was the boy if not persistent, so you ended up picking up the phone on the third call.

“if i didn’t know any better, i’d think you’re ignoring me.” pierre greeted.

“maybe i am,” you mumbled, scrolling through the final page of your essay. pierre laughed into the receiver, sending shivers down your spine. you rolled your eyes, dropping the phone on the bed as you put the call on speaker. “what do you need?”

“are you coming tonight?”

you hummed, deleting a clunky sentence before retyping your point. it’s a couple seconds before you respond. “dunno. it’s thursday.”

“so you don’t wanna see me?”

you rolled your eyes again, “not what i said.”

“so you’re coming then.” you reach the end of your paper, huffed a sigh as you stuff your face into your pillow. your eyes burned, and truth be told, you find that a drink or two might just be what you need. pierre says your name, “you there?”

you pick up your phone, “yeah." you sighed, rubbing your face, "yeah, i’ll see you tonight.”

thats how you find yourself walking up the steps of the fraternity house, the bass thumping through the walls and spilling through the open door. the house was full, trash had already littered the lawn even if it had only been an hour since it started. alex was at the door, talking down the boys at the front door who didn’t get the memo that the party was a brothers only event. the boy catches your gaze as you pass him, and he holds the door open for you as he tells the boys in front of him to leave.

the room is tinted purple thanks to the led lights, and you try to navigate your way through the dimply lit house. bodies sway left to right, backs pressed to fronts as they try to keep up with the music blaring through the speaker. you had half a mind to text pierre to ask for his whereabouts but you spot him leant up against the counter in the kitchen before you do. he looks the part, bright red snapback lay backwards on his head, black t-shirt resting on his shoulders, and the gold chain hanging just below the neck of shirt. he was deep in conversation with george, too busy to notice your presence. so you opt to get yourself a drink first, let brothers talk about what brothers do.

you change direction, moving to the opposite end of the kitchen where the makeshift bar sits. jack mans the bar, passing red solo cups to girls who can’t seem to stand straight and pouring shots for brothers who tap on the hardwood impatiently. you squeeze between two girls, pushing yourself upwards to make yourself seen. jack turns at your movement, smiling as he leans in to hear your order. just a vodka sprite, one he makes quickly while ignoring the blonde screaming for another whiteclaw. he leans in again, mouth by your ear this time, as he pushes the cup into your hand.

“pierre’s talking to george over there, did you see?”

your bite back a bashful smile, nodding. “i did. thanks jack.”

he winks, waving you off before turning to the loud blonde with wide eyes as he goes i heard you the first three times!

you spin on your heel, bringing the cup up to your mouth as you take a sip of your drink. it’s heavy on the vodka, burns your throat and sits warm in your gut. you wince, walking around and out of the kitchen in search of a place to set yourself while you wait for pierre.

it’s not like you had to, but its something you kind of grew used to. so long as you came to one their parties, you were somehow always under his arm. you haven’t been seeing the french boy for long— you aren’t sure if you were seeing him at all. all you knew is that he’s a friend you’ve slept with a few times. and it’s not exclusive… but to you it is. you shake the thoughts, taking another gulp of your vodka mix as you lean against the wall.

“you gonna dance?”

you whip your head around, eyes cast up to find charles smiling down at you. you smile, shaking your head, “'m not much of a dancer.”

he chuckles, index finger tipping your cup towards him so he can take a peek. you see him click his tongue, can't here the sound over the music, “you mean you haven’t drunk enough yet. i know you got some moves in you.”

you turn your body towards him, taking another drink. “what do you know about my moves charles?”

“enough to want to see them again.” the monegasque winks and you laugh.

charles takes up your time, playing catch up and you let him. one second you’re talking about your government class and the next you’re following closely behind him back to the bar because you agreed to do a round of shots with him. you watch as he leans over the bar to pull a handle of vodka, because he’s an older brother and he can. he pours the liquid in two empty solo cups, counting down for you before you tip the liquid down your throat.

what you don’t see is pierre across the room. you don’t see the slight furrow in his brow as he watches you and his best friend laugh. you don’t see the way george leans in to talk into his ear because to brit is oblivious to the fact that his brother was having a little jealous fit.

you indulge charles for another round before you finally agree to a game of beer pong. you play opposite of carlos and a brunette you don’t recognize. you weren’t half bad, according to charles. though you know he was only being nice, considering you had missed every other throw. but he was light hearted about it, arm slung over your shoulder as he gives you a tight squeeze every time you did manage to make it in. he was your cheerleader, even if he was the one to carry the two of you to a win. he sinks the white pingpong ball into the final cup on the opposite end of the table. you both cheer loudly, fist thrown in the air in excitement.

charles gives you a tight hug, singing praises in your name. you laugh, squeezing him just as tightly.

“ah, we should do another game but… i think someone isn’t too please right now.” you tilt your head and charles flicks his chin behind you.

you turn your head and find pierre nursing a red cup of his own, leant up against a wall all by himself. you bite down on your lip, offering him a small wave before turning back to charles. “i should…”

you don’t have to finish, charles understood. he leans in for a hug, giving you a quick squeeze before swiping his cup and retreating into the crowd. you turn on your heel, making your way over to the boy waiting for you across the room. pierre drops his hand by his hand, fingers holding on to the rim of his cup.

“had fun?” he pips.

“oh so much fun,” you tease, taking another step to him.

he pouts. “looks like you had fun.”

you bite back a smile, “you’re such a baby.” his frown deepens, and you stifle a laugh. you take another step, hand gripping his wrist to open himself up so that you can lean into him. you wrap his arm around your tipsy frame as you tip toe to press a kiss to his cheek. “don’t be like that.”

“why didn’t you come say hi?” he tightens his arm, holding you firmly against him, “didn’t know you were here til i saw you drinking with charles.”

“well you were busy.” “never too busy for you.”

you smile, nodding, “well, i’ll remember for next time.”

“my feelings are still hurt.” pierre mumbles, eyes wide and pout forced.

you fight the urge to roll your eyes, instead pushing yourself up to press a kiss to his lips as a sorry. it’s meant to be a peck, but pierre chases your lips as you pull away, capturing your lips. you feel his shoulders drop, relaxed, as he moves his lips against you slowly— like he misses you. your hands come up to rest on his shoulders, wrists over the other behind his neck. pierre’s free hands hold onto your hip, the other resting on the small of your back. he leans into you, following your mouth with his own.

you’re the first to pull away, breathless as you fight the blush threatening to take over your features. the boy smiles down at you, satisfied, as he leans in to steal another peck. you giggle, hand coming up to cup his face to hold him back. you swipe your thumb across his lips to collect the remnants of your gloss lathered over his lips. he takes the opportunity to press a kiss against the pad of your thumb and you roll your eyes.

“feeling better?”

he grins widely. “much better.”

come to the house party!!

#🔖 house party #pierre gasly #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly x you #pierre gasly one shot #pierre gasly blurb #frat pierre

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silverstonesainz · 7 months

Text

all yours

─── the one where daniel has to re-set some boundaries frat!daniel x reader 1.3k words prompt: "you're all mine, you got that? i'm not sharing.”

d rambles. . . once again, modified the prompt ever so slightly just so it rolls off the tongue a bit better. enjoy!!

socials are fun.

correction: they were fun. they were fun as a new member, fun when you were just required to show up and meet people. they were fun before the responsibility, before you got a taste of planning one. its not an easy feat trying to coordinate your sorority schedule with that of a fraternity. they were great guys but that’s the problem— they’re guys.

but alas, after three reschedules, you and daniel had managed to get a game night together with both your chapters in attendance.

board games and various cars are littered around the living room of the the phi gamma theta house, members of yours and his organizations mixing and mingling over silly little competition. you keep an eye out on your new members, sure that everyone is comfortable in the same instance that daniel is making sure that his brothers are being nothing but respectful.

laughter echos throughout the house, followed by the dramatic smack of uno cards against the table. you hum, sighing contentedly. everything is going smoothly.

game night lasts for about two hours before daniel is standing on a chair, middle and index finger of both his hands in his mouth as he blows an ear-piercing whistle. heads turn, games are paused.

“it’s eight, which means that the social is officially over.” he smiles cheekily, and several of his brothers move about the house, cards and game board pieces forgotten as they disappear into the house. your newer sisters look around confused, brows furrowed as they stand from their places.

this is how all socials with fraternities go— you do what you plan, play the games, bond the wholesome way. the way standards allow you too. but when someone announces it’s official end, the standards no longer apply. the rules are no longer there and you’re free to do what you please. go home, hang out, and in tonight’s case: drink.

oscar and several brothers in his tow return to the room as you finish explaining it to several of your new members. they carry boxes of seltzers and a couple of bottles of clear liquor. cheap stuff, just for the fun of it. your new members are nervous, apprehensive, and you smile reassuringly.

“you don’t have to stay, you don’t have to drink, it’s all just there if you want. no pressure at all, but i do encourage you to stay and mingle a bit. if you’re uncomfortable at anytime, or need anything at all, i’ll be here.”

they nod, slowly dispersing into the house as they do what socials are made for: they mingle. talk and get to know the new fraternity class, build connections that could very well last beyond the end of their college days. you hum, flopping onto the plush couch with a huff. a truly pops out to your left, held by a hand decorated with a rose. you tilt your head backwards, looking up at daniel with a smile.

“hey doll,” he hums, releasing the cold can into your hand. his lips part like he want to ask you something, like he wants to ask you something, but his name is yelled from across the room. both your heads turn to see george with a smile, hand up as he waves him over. it’s daniel’s turn to sigh, nodding as he holds his palm out as if to say just a sec.

he looks down at you, an apology about to slide off his tongue but you shake your head, “it’s okay. go. talk to you later.” daniel smiles, smiles like he feels bad. but he leans down, pecks your cheek before scurrying off to the other side of the room.

you force yourself off the couch, popping the truly open before walking to the first group you see. you immerse yourself in a bit of conversation here and there, taking your own advice to mingle and get to know the pledges. they’re young, sweet, so naive of what was to unfold in the next couple of weeks. you were none the wiser, but after being friends with the chapter for most of your time in greek life, you have a bit of a clue of what happens before initiation week.

but you smile and nod, admire their excitement as it allows you reminisce your own.

you jump around the room, nurse two trulys before you find yourself back on the couch. but this time, in the company of your new friends. a new game of uno starts up, face paced, cards slapping against the stack with much thought. and it was fun until yuki and liam work together to get you to pick up four cards. you scowl at them, middle finger up before you go to pull your cards.

you finish in third, much to everyone’s surprise. liam leans over, his shoulder bumping against yours. “good save.”

“thanks,” you chuckle, peeking over at his cards. all green, but the stack blue. you click your tongue, mumbling a good luck before pulling away from him.

you had full intentions to get up in search of older brothers, in search of daniel, but you’re sucked back in by liam, who requests your help. you hum, eyes scanning the room to find that besides those playing the game, it’s empty. so you agree, leaning back into the couch with your eyes trained on liam’s set of cards. round and round, you try your best to help him, but he finishes last, with two cards still left in his hand.

liam grunts, tossing the cards carelessly onto the table. “that was terrible.”

“its karma for what you did to me earlier in the game.” you tease.

his smile is wide, turns his cheeks pink and his eyes bright. “deserved i guess.” you giggle, shaking your head. “guess i just gotta get better at my game.”

“i guess so.” “wanna teach me?”

you’re taken aback by the new member’s boldness, a faded ha falling past your lips as the rest of the room around you finds humor in the situation. except daniel, who has rejoined the group without you even realizing it. he comes with a raised brow, a soft scoff as he stares at the pledge up and down.

“she’s not available, look for lessons somewhere else.” daniel sits on the arm of the couch, arm slung over your shoulder with his hand planted on your shoulder. a chorus of ooohs fill the room, broken apart by scattered laughter at the expense of the younger boy. he’s red in the face, apologetic with his hands up in surrender.

you turn to see danny with his lips clamped tightly, honey eyes stuck on the young boy doing his best to distract himself. you pat his thigh, a soft hey to pull him back to you. he comes back like he always does, gaze kind and lips now pouted. “stop. he didn’t know.” you whisper.

daniel blows air through his nose, eyes flicking over to liam one more time before he nods. he tips his beer into his mouth before he leans down to press your forehead. his lips are cold, wet. you scowl up at him, whine his name as you swipe away the remnants of beer off your skin. he grins, index finger tucked under your chin to tilt your frown in his direction.

“you’re mine. all mine, ya?” he leans down, lips ghosting over yours. his eyes flicker behind you, going dark. “and i don’t share.”

his kiss is soft, gentle. but you dont see the way he stares the pledge down as he does so. a quiet way of setting boundaries, make it known to him and whoever else wasn’t aware.

you hum, giving him one more kiss before patting his cheek affectionately. daniel looks at you, sweet smile replacing the glare that was just on his face. “okay cowboy,” you say softly, “all yours.”

come to the house party!!

#🔖 house party #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo blurb #daniel ricciardo one shot #frat daniel

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