#ls!reader

[httpsserene]

Heyyy, I just found your tumblr and I'm completely obsessed with your writing. Could you write something for Lance Stroll with a Latina reader who isn't rich at all, but they both love each other and have been in a relationship for a while. It could be with the established relationship prompt 13, 18, and 19. Thank you so much.

🛞  tread’s uneven: time for a tire rotation! — send me a driver and a prompt from this list of pre-relationship prompts, or these established relationship prompts, or these hurt/comfort prompts, and i’ll write a blurb or drabble for you xxx (prompt lists are made by me!)

༊࿐ ⊹ ˚. unrelated but, did i imagine carlos mentioning that he was a fan of the marias in one of the old mclaren yt videos? because, i've been listenting to the band religiously for the past two nights while i've been writing and i'm soooo mad that i didn't listen to them sooner :( happy 3k 🩷 babes, xo !

⌕ 3k v-day celly nav | all 3k requests | main nav | table of contents ↻

#𝟏𝟑. "can i kiss you?" "you know you don't have to ask me anymore, right?" #𝟏𝟖. telling their family that they think they're going to marry you. #𝟏𝟗. staring at your lips when you talk. fem!latina!reader x lance stroll.

lance fell in love with you when he was ten years old.

you followed your brother to all of his karting races, and lance would always ask if you wanted to pass around a football with him before the sessions began. he was distraught when your brother told him that he wasn’t going to be racing next year because of the cost—and, lance knew that meant he wasn’t going to see you again.

he didn’t get to say goodbye, but that didn’t mean he was going to forget you.

every passing year, lance sleuthed through your brother’s social media platforms to see if you had interacted or been tagged on one of his posts. he was fourteen when you made an account. he was seventeen when you finally accepted his follow request.

lance waited a few days before liking three of your posts and commenting on the most recent one with a classic response to test the waters, “😍😍😍.” it was another day before you replied with a sequence of emoji’s that let him knew he still had a chance, “😳☺️🤭.”

his opportunity to reach out came when you posted a photo of yourself studying in a coffee shop with the location tagged—you were in quebec. 

lance laughed to himself in the hotel lobby in some european country. you may have never returned to the karting tracks, but you still lived in quebec—all this time, you were closer than he thought.

he liked the story and sent you a dm. he kept it simple: “i think you owe me a couple of football matches when i’m back home?”

one year later, the two of you were happily dating. now, many years later, he’s supposed to be paying attention to what you’re telling him about chloe’s wedding rehearsal later tonight but he’s forgotten to listen as he watches your lips move around consonants and vowels.

“your sister is freaking out about the flower arrangements and the wedding planner has no sense of urgency! ¡ninguina!” he watches you giggle hysterically for a beat before you continue venting, “as a bridesmaid, i’m allowed to beat her ass right—”

“—can i kiss you?” lance interrupts.

he watches your annoyance evaporate the moment you process his question, your tightly wound shoulders relaxing along with your expression. you lean forward and lance meets you halfway, pressing his lips to yours and holding you there with his fingers lightly grasping your chin.

the two of you pull away after a few moments and lance presses his lips together, savoring the taste of you and the tingle of your lip gloss.

“stop distracting me,” you slap his chest, narrowing your eyes at him warningly before turning your harsh gaze to scan over the room, “no me impedirá luchar contra ella…”

he sighs dreamily as he watches you stomp away to beat chloe’s wedding planner into submission, your dress billowing in the wind beautifully. lance jumps at the sound of his dad’s deep laughter, startling as the man claps his hand on his shoulder heartily. 

“what?” lance questions, and finds himself genuinely confused as his dad’s only response is a shake of his head as he continues chuckling.

chloe appears on his other side, an amused smirk on her face as she looks up at him, “he’s laughing at how completely gone you are for her.”

“whatever,” lance scoffs, his cheeks redding at the ribbing even though he feigns indifference about it, “shouldn’t you stop her from killing your wedding planner? and!—you’re the one getting married this weekend, you can’t say shit to me about how ‘gone’ i look.”

“she’s my maid of honor. it’s her job to kill my wedding planner,” his sister giggles, “but, how do you manage to look more ‘in love’ than the couple who’s about to tie the knot?”

“because,” lance tugs at the strand of hair that was artfully left out of her intricate updo, a true little brother action, and dodges the punch she throws out in response (what is with the women in his life trying to assault him?), “i’m going to be marrying her one day in the future, hopefully sooner than later.”

“you’ve been looking at her like that for the entire seven years you’ve been together. only god knows why you haven’t made her an official member of the family yet,” his dad huffs out over his glass of champagne, “...you’re disappointing me.”

ignoring their dad, chloe squints at lance, “just don’t propose during my reception—that’s corny, and my sister-in-law deserves something better than that.”

© httpsserene — do not reupload. photos in header from pinterest. divider by @cafekitsune.

[coff33andb00ks]

American Idiot - LS

American Idiot pairing: Logan Sargeant x reader summary: rule #1: don't fall in love. rule #2: don't break rule #1. rule #3: you broke both rules didn't you? word count: 3567 warnings: smut (18+ only), not proofread, Logan has a bit of a frat guy attitude in parts, mentions of past sexual assault (non explicit) {your mental health is more important than any engagement I get on this, so please don't read if that is a triggering subject for you ❤️} a.n.: here I wrote a happy thing for logan

"Yes, baby, just like that," he moaned, gripping her hips tighter. He wanted to watch her but his eyes slipped shut and he dug his fingers into her skin. "Gonna make me cum."

Y/n suddenly lifted off him, causing his eyes to snap open. Her face was screwed up and at first he thought she was in the middle of cumming, but she let out a pained whine and he decided that couldn't be it.

"What," he gasped, wincing when her knee slammed into his hip as she collapsed next to him.

"Cramp," she whimpered. She lay on her side, almost perfectly still, leg bent at the knee while she lightly punched the mattress. "Fuck."

Logan exhaled harshly and dragged a hand over his face before shifting, sitting up. He could see her calf muscle clenched, lightly spasming under her skin and winced. "It's okay, I've got you."

"There's nothing you can – ow!" she cried out when he gently grasped her ankle and extended her leg. Immediately she was trying to bend it back but he kept it straight. "Logan, no, it hurts!"

"Relax, let me rub it out," he said softly, cupping his other hand over her calf. He began to massage, keeping his touch light at first while she pressed her face into the pillow and nearly screeched in pain. "Y/n, just breathe—"

"Fuck you," she whimpered. "I'm never riding you again. I always get a leg cramp."

"Because you don't stretch," he pointed out, applying more pressure.

She just turned her head and looked at him.

"What?" he asked.

"Oh, just waiting for you say you expect me to stretch you."

"I thought it went without saying."

She tried to kick him, hissing and tensing at the pressure it put on her cramp. "It's not working, Logan."

"I've been doing it for thirty seconds," he sighed. Leaning over, he kissed her cheek. "Please just relax, okay?"

She exhaled slowly. "It hurts, Logie."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry. I'll never ask you to be on top again," he assured her, feeling the cramp starting to loosen. She whined and he was quick to shush her. "Breathe, baby."

She did, slowly and deeply, occasionally groaning in pain as he manipulated the muscle. "Sorry for ruining the sex."

"We can try later," he said with a shrug.

"Maybe I have plans."

"Do you?" he asked. He would be surprised if she did. She tended to stay in on a Saturday night, getting her drinks and partying done on Fridays so she could enjoy the weekend.

"No," she mumbled. "Do you?"

"Only thing I'm doing tonight is you."

She laughed at that, humming when he bent and straightened her knee. "Were you really about to cum?"

"Yeah, but it's fine." It wasn't as though she'd leave him hanging. It was the whole reason behind their arrangement: neither party leaves a meeting unsatisfied.

She'd typed out the agreement in full legalese. Then she'd presented it to him as though arguing a case in front of a jury. Complete with a sexy suit that had only encouraged him to agree and sign so they could get to business.

"Mm," she moaned.

"Better?" He already knew the answer. Her muscle was fully relaxed now, though he was sure it would be sore for a while. She nodded and he kissed her cheek again before sliding off the bed to throw away the wasted condom.

"Thanks, Logie," she murmured when he rejoined her in the bed. She scooted over, hissing softly as she lifted her leg to drape it over his. "Just give me a few minutes."

Her few minutes turned into an hour long nap but he didn't complain. Content to lie with her, he smoothed her hair while she slept, a little amused. She'd been his friend for years, and if anyone had told him even two years before he'd be sleeping with her regularly he would have laughed in their face. But here he was, and as he reached for the covers to pull over them it occurred to him that if he couldn't have sex with her when she woke up he wouldn't be too upset.

"You're so busy with racing, you can't spare time to make an emotional connection with someone enough to sleep with them. I'm busy with work and I'd rather kiss a frog on live tv than let some loser I meet at the club fuck me. It makes perfect sense."

It did, so he'd agreed. Maybe she caught him in a lonely moment, or an extremely horny one. Maybe she'd caught him during a dry spell. Either way, he'd agreed to become platonic lovers with her.

Friends with benefits.

Fuck buddies.

Booty calls.

She'd been right, it was beneficial. He was usually so sexually satisfied that when he met someone he could see as a potential mate, he could focus on actually getting to know them as opposed to getting them in bed. And, having met her coworkers and more than a few of the losers that went to the clubs she did, he knew he had to be a better option than what she had around regularly.

"No falling in love. We're friends, nothing more. No jealousy. If you find someone to love I'll be over the moon, and if I find someone you'll be happy. No unprotected sex. I don't want to be a mom before I'm 25 and you're not ready to be a dad. We both agree to regularly get tested if we sleep with other people. And, lastly, if one of us wants to end the arrangement we end it. Most importantly, we remain friends."

At first it had been amazing. Guaranteed pussy whenever he wanted or needed it? He'd been sold on the idea before she'd even finished the suggestion. If he was away for a race he could just call or FaceTime her for a quick phone sex session?

Amazing.

No pressure. No worries. He didn't have to deal with the girlfriend stuff. He didn't have to remember important dates or to pick up something for her on his travels. She didn't expect him to be her date to work events or to go around pretending to care about the stuff she wanted to buy.

And they still hung out. Sometimes before, sometimes after. Nothing had changed at all in their friendship. She still called him out for being a douchebag, he still insulted her music taste, they still laughed while watching stupid movies.

It was, he thought, like having a girlfriend without all the work.

Until, suddenly, it was different.

He didn't know why he'd bought the stuffed animal in Miami. Probably because she'd said she liked eagles. And it had an American flag shirt on which made it even better in his opinion. But he'd bought it, he'd shown it to Oscar, who'd groaned and laughed and called him painfully American, he'd packed it in his suitcase for the trip back to England.

And he was watching her take it out of the gift bag now, a big stupid grin on his face when she began to laugh.

"Oh my god I love it," she said, hugging it to her chest then hugging him.

That was why he'd bought it, he thought a few minutes later when she was on her knees, staring up at him with pure lust in her eyes. And then he noticed that she kept it on her bed.

She went to Switzerland for something work related. He didn't know what, because she'd told him right before going down on him. They FaceTimed when they could during the two weeks she was out of the country, and when she got back she had a gift for him.

A cuckoo clock.

He loved it and laughed every time it went off, and felt a little rush of warmth because she'd thought of him. It turned out she hated it, because it had a knack for cuckooing loudly just when she was about to come, but he made up for that. At least, going by the way she'd murmur yay when he went down on her.

"So today marks the anniversary of the worst day of my life," she announced one summer afternoon as she walked into his place.

Logan grunted when she pushed her shopping bag at him. "Which worst day?" he asked, closing the door. "When you got dumped by that dickhead Dave?"

"No, that was in November."

"When you caught your boss cheating?" He peered into the bag and set it down, following her to the sofa.

"That was January, and that wasn't a worst day, just a weird day. Like, bad because he can't keep it in his pants but also good because I got a raise." Kicking off her shoes, she flopped onto the sofa.

He racked his brains, going over as many of her worst days as he could recall. The time she'd gotten food poisoning in Brighton? Apparently that had been in March. The time a guy got sick on her in the club? October, how could he forget? The asshole had ruined her costume. Groaning, he threw his head back in defeat, realizing he was rubbing her feet. "You gotta help me out, babe."

"Wow, you did forget." She sighed dramatically, throwing an arm over her face. "And I thought you weren't like other guys? Do you even love me, Logan?"

"I'm rubbing your gross feet—"

"They're not gross I just had a pedicure this – Fuck you," she snorted when he laughed.

"I'm rubbing your amazing feet," he corrected with a roll of his eyes. "The most beautiful feet in the world—"

"Ew, don't make it weird." She lowered her arm and sat up. "But really? You don't remember?"

"No… Wait, was it that time the guy came before you could put the condom on?"

"No, it's – Actually that's next week. Do you know I saw him a few days ago? He pretended he didn't know who I was."

"You made the guy cum in seconds, y/n."

"Okay, and? I made you cum in a minute thirty and you still talk to me."

"You…" He tipped his head. "You timed it?"

"It's my personal best. Aside from Preemie Pete but he doesn't really count because I didn't even do anything to him except grind on him—"

"What's my nickname?" Logan asked suddenly.

"Logie?" She looked confused. "Logie Bear."

"No, no, my nickname. Preemie Pete, Dickhead Dave. You called that guy you met at the store Sainsbury's Steve and the firefighter was Fireman Fred. What do you call me when you talk about me with the girls?"

"That's classified information. I'm not at liberty to discuss it with you, as you are not one of the girls."

"Bullshit, because you've told me all the others," he pointed out. "Go on, tell me."

"Logie—"

"I'm not like Car Guy am I? Because that—"

"Wishbone."

He stopped rubbing her feet, fully turning to face her. "Wishbone?"

"Yeah. Wishbone." She swung her feet to the floor and moved to stand. "We still doing dinner?"

He grabbed her arm and dragged her back down. "Why Wishbone?"

"It's stupid," she groaned, pretending to fight against his hold. "All the nicknames are stupid, they don't really mean – When I first told them about you we'd just met and I said I wished the stupid American would bone me, okay?"

He let her go, even more confused now. "But I have."

"Yes," she said slowly, getting to her feet. "Many times."

"Then why am I still a wish?"

"Well they don't know you're fucking me." She shrugged, grabbing up her bag and heading to the kitchen.

He let that marinate in his brain for a minute before getting up to follow her. "Why don't they know?"

"I don't tell th… Right, I do tell them everything. But they know I was super into you back then and if they found out that you're the only guy I'm sleeping with they'd never stop teasing me. Chicken or salmon?"

"Chicken." She'd been into him back when they met? He tried to remember, to see if he could recall any obvious signs she'd wanted him then, but couldn't. Could only remember her rolling her eyes and looking annoyed when he talked about anything.

But he did remember—

"Oh, y/n," he whispered. "I'm sorry."

"I'm okay," she said quickly. "It was years ago. I'm pretty much over it."

"Don't lie to make me feel better." Because she did. Especially when it came to that. Pretty much over it. Rarely think about it. So far in the past it's hardly worth mentioning. But it was the reason she still slept with a light on. The reason she never went out alone at night. The reason she was wary of new men entering her life. The reason she was hyper aware of her surroundings in public, always mapping out an escape route if needed. It was one of the reasons behind her need to joke and laugh about everything, because she had to keep people liking her. It was the reason she spent so many of her precious days off working with the sexual abuse charity, willing to tell her horror over and over again so girls with similar cruelties would feel seen and understood.

He hadn't known her then. Would never know what she'd been like before her innocence and faith in humanity had been fractured. He only knew her as the woman she was. Fierce and protective and stronger than anyone he would ever know. He often wished he didn't know what had happened to her on that horrible night, but felt honored that she trusted him enough to share that side of her life with him.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked softly. She shook her head.

"Can we cook together?" she whispered.

"Of course." He hesitated, finally reaching to squeeze her shoulder. She lifted her head and he saw the tears shining in her eyes. She may not have wanted to talk about it, may have wanted him to just step away and wash his hands or whatever, but he pulled her to him, tucking his chin on her head while he held her, keeping silent while she let herself cry.

Wishing he could meet the monster face to face for just ten minutes.

He held her until her shoulders stopped shaking, until she sniffled and let go of his shirt. Pressing a kiss into her hair, he let go and offered to turn on music, making sure to pull up the playlist of songs that were cheerful and lighthearted. They cooked, or rather she cooked while he stood to the side to hand her things and clean up, and ate on the couch, watching her favorite movie.

And he realized it was his favorite movie now.

She stayed the night and he didn't care that she didn't want sex. Didn't care that she pulled her stuffed eagle out of her bag and held it close while he got ready for bed. Didn't care that the lamp was on. He was just happy to be there for her, to hold her while she fell asleep and then lie there watching her sleep. Even rocks needed support sometimes.

And it struck him – a full two months later – that he looked forward to just seeing her more than he looked forward to the sex. She'd become more than his best friend, more than his hookup, and he panicked constantly that he'd somehow let on that he'd broken the first rule of their arrangement.

But he had the feeling she knew, especially when he went straight to her office after flying in from Singapore to see her instead of going straight home to sleep off the jet leg. Her eyes lit up and she smiled brighter than the weak sun ever could, and when she hugged him tight and told him she'd missed him he knew she meant it.

"Dinner tomorrow?" he asked before leaving. The answer was yes and, no longer exhausted or feeling mediocre as he sometimes did after a race, he went home with a smile on his face.

She showed up at his door with that bright smile and oohed and aahed over the candles and the flowers. Teased him for being a try hard for wearing a suit and kissed his cheek.

Dinner might have tasted divine. Or it might have tasted like sawdust. He would never know.

"Logie?"

God, she was beautiful. Always had been, he realized, wondering why he'd been so blind until just recently. But tonight, in her light blue dress and her eyes sparkling in the candlelight, she was stunning.

Heartbreakingly so. Because she would only ever be his friend.

"Yeah?" he finally murmured, realizing he was staring.

She stood up and left the table, coming back with her purse. Pulling out some papers, she sat down and bit her lip. "We need to talk."

Never a good thing when a woman said that. Swallowing hard, he took a sip of water to push down the lump in his throat. "About what?"

"You remember this?" She held up the papers and he nodded, seeing the contract she'd typed up and printed out for them both to sign.

"You want to end it?" he asked, anxiety curling in his chest, embarrassment heating his face at the way his voice cracked mid-sentence. Had she met someone?

"I think we need to," she said with a frown.

"Wh-why?" God, she'd met someone and hadn't told him and even worse, she'd fallen in love and now he'd be alone—

"I broke rule number one," she blurted.

"We don't have to end it," he said. "Rules get broken all the time. We can work it out—"

"Logie—"

"I can't go back to random meaningless hookups anymore. I can't go back to models that don't know their ass from a hole in the ground—"

She let out a sharp giggle at that, clapping a hand over her mouth. "Logan!"

"I can't do it, y/n. Not when I've had the best thing that's ever happened to me. And I'm not even talking about the sex, it's just… We've spent more time together and I know I wasn't supposed to but I did it anyway because my heart's stupid I guess. I can't just go back to nothing with you—"

"Do you even remember what rule number one was?" she cut in, staring at him with wide eyes.

He froze, blinking slowly. "The one about protection, right?"

"Oh my god," she groaned, slapping her palm to her forehead. "No, Logan. Of course you don't remember. But you do, because you always remember everything, like how I need to sleep with a light on and can't watch horror movies after dark and that I only like white wine even if I'm eating red meet. You play the part of a fucking idiot so well because it shields you from people wanting to get too close and knowing the real you, like you're not the greatest thing America's made since chocolate chip cookies. Like you don't have a heart bigger than Texas."

"Um, y/n—"

"Which is exactly why I broke the stupid fucking rule that I made, because how could I not?" She threw the papers down and covered her face with both hands. "I didn't do it on purpose, you know? But I fucking did it, I fell for you, because the only bad thing about you is your annoying American pride."

"Y/n—"

"And it took everything in me to tell you this, but at least now I know you don't want to change this. You're happy just being fuck buddies and I have to be okay with it because I was the goddamned idiot that wrote the rules—"

"I love you too," he blurted.

She stopped. Lowered her hands. And stared at him.

"I love you," he said softly. "Always have, I think. I just… Never realized it until I wasn't supposed to."

"When did you know?" she whispered.

He sighed, shrugging one shoulder. He couldn't tell her. It would be embarrassing to admit he'd been holding it in since—

"Miami?" she asked.

"Oh come on, how could you know that?"

"Logan Hunter Sargeant, you brought me a stuffed eagle. You hate stuffed animals!"

"Yeah, but I love you."

She stared at him for a few seconds. Then, to his confusion, she began to laugh.

His favorite sound, followed very closely by her moan.

"Oh god, Logie," she giggled.

"When did you know?" he asked once she'd stopped laughing.

"When you left for Miami and I cried because I couldn't go with you," she said.

"God, we're both idiots," he muttered. Then he sat up straight. "Wait, hey, you said… You love me?"

She laughed again, nodding, and stayed laughing while he grabbed the papers and ripped them in half. And was still giggling when he pulled her to her feet and caught her in a sweet kiss.

"And we did break the protection rule," he whispered a lifetime later when they pulled apart.

"You pulled out, doesn't count."

"That's not in the rules."

She rolled her eyes, wrapping her arms around him. "There aren't any rules anymore, Wishbone."

~end~

[moonyflesh]

[⏳]

Oscar Isaac behind the scenes of “Dune: Part One (2021)” as Duke Leto Atreides l.

[triplefrontierbabe]

Undressed

summary: life as you know it, crashes and burns.

pairing: Logan Sargeant x f! reader (Kyle Kirkwood's younger sister)

warning: angst, hurt, language, 2024 Dutch GP...

a/n: this is part one of a multi-part series In This Life?

part two | part three | part four

August 2024 

Your life crashed and burned fast. And so did his. There were already rumors that he wouldn’t finish the season but you— or anyone— hadn’t imagined it would be that abrupt of an ending. 

You watched the race from your and Logan’s place back in London, since you were in a busy season of work. And worse of all, you saw practice and Logan’s crash. Deep down, you understood that given all the rumors that were swirling that this inevitably threw a larger, heavier wrench in his career. 

Even once Logan returned home, there was still that heaviness. The unspoken knowing that things were about to take a sour turn. He barely spoke to you, and you didn’t want to pry so you kept some distance. 

In order to take your mind off things, you opted to go out to a cafe to try to distract yourself. That was until your brother called. 

“Did you see the news?” Kyle asked the moment you answered the call. 

Your heart dropped faster than you could catch it. 

“You don’t mean-”

“Williams dropped him.” Your brother said matter-of-factly. 

What do you say to that? The whole purpose for Logan’s life was just cut short, just like that. Immediately dropped and quickly replaced. 

“I have- uh I have to go.” You responded while ending the call as you frantically gathered your things and made a quick exit from the cafe. 

Before you even stepped foot in your home, there was this dark cloud of dread that was hanging over you. There were hundreds of words running through your mind on how to approach Logan for when you walked inside. 

The next few moments were a blur until you saw him standing in the living room, facing the window. 

“I’m so sorry, Logan.” Was all you managed to say when he turned around to look at you, his eyes red and puffy. 

And he just stood there and said nothing for a good two minutes. His eyes were blank, brimming with tears that he furiously kept blinking back. 

“I can’t believe I actually thought this would work.” He began to say, his voice wobbling. “I’m such a fucking idiot. Day after day, I kept telling myself this would turn around and that I’d at least make something of myself, but I couldn’t.” 

As his voice raised with each word, tears pricked your eyes as all his emotions finally boiled over. 

“I’ve worked my entire life for this and now it’s gone. The only thing I’ve ever loved was just ripped out of my hands— and they’ve already moved on.” Logan said exasperatedly, dropping his hands at his sides. 

You knew he was running on pure adrenaline but hearing him say the only thing he’s ever loved was racing cut hard. Your relationship didn’t begin when you started dating; it extended beyond that. Logan started out as your older brother’s best friend who you harbored a crush on after one too many group fishing trips. 

You’d seen Logan through all of his rising career as a driver. When he secured a seat in Formula 1, after 3 years of dating, you made the big move to London with him. In that much time you had put a lot of your life on pause to be with him in all the ups and downs of motorsports. You got a crappy desk job that sucked the life out of you. You spent many weekends alone in London since work didn’t allow much vacation time. You moved away from your friends and family which ultimately made it hard for you to make lasting friendships. You pushed your feelings aside day in and day out to allow space for Logan’s ongoing frustrations with Williams. This life wasn’t yours anymore, it was his. 

You wanted better.

“I guess it just wasn’t meant to work out.” Logan said as he sighed, trying to come to terms with being dropped from the team. 

“I guess not.” You finally said after staring at Logan for a few moments. 

In your mind, you knew that “it” meant racing but deep down, you couldn’t help but think “it” also meant this relationship. To be frank, the relationship had been on the rocks for months but neither of you wanted to bring that part to light. 

A cloud of mutual understanding settled amongst the two of you at those words. He knew. You knew. 

“I can tell in your eyes that you want to leave.”

“No, Logan, I don’t-”

“We can’t beat around the bush anymore, we can’t keep doing this.” He stated in defeat. 

You didn’t want to leave but you knew you couldn’t stay either. The last few months made you feel trapped. Like Logan was the lamppost to which you were tethered; never too far from him but never close enough to feel truly connected. 

That night Logan went out, you went to bed. When you awoke the next morning, Logan was just returning. Slowly but surely, after a few days, your shared home was bare. Devoid of any life, emotion, love. 

F1 Masterlist | Indycar Masterlist

taglist: @ifyouaintfirstyourelastt @f1updates4you @bernelflo @meglovesmclaren @r0nnsblog

[bluevelvetthing]

Floyd seeing shrimp maki or another shrimp dish at some restaurant and dramatically going *GASP* “SHRIMPY NOOOOOO” while hugging a mortified Yuu who is trying desperately to shut him up before he gets them kicked out

(If they eat it he will act horrified and accuse them of cannibalism while trying not to laugh)

[stumped-on-bennington]

That Girl's Not Right in the Brain

Pairing: Revenge!Frank x Reader

Reader pronouns: she/her

Word count: 1500+

Warnings!: angest, mentions of injuries, yelling

Summary: The reader has been compared to Frank for all of her career and has some strong feelings about him because of it. But due to her bands big break, she might have to confront the man head on.

Requested by: @itschaboijoe

(Y/N) had a.. complicated relationship with Frank Iero. Having grown up in the same town as Frank, (Y/N) had always heard stories about him and his antics from everyone in the local scene, and it has honestly started to become extremely annoying. Though (Y/N) had never met the infamous Frank, she had seriously started to hate him.

It was always the same stories, how he was crazy on stage and how good he was at playing, even though he was simultaneously kicking his band mates in the balls, and because of (Y/N)’s playing style and stage presence, she was always asked about if she was a big fan and how everyone “Could tell how much inspiration she drew from him.” It was sickening to think that these people couldn’t fathom that a girl could come upon her own style, that she had to be copying a man.

And on top of all that, it wasn’t like (Y/N) was a 16 year old girl who listened to 1 My Chem song and decided “I want to be just like that!” No, She was 22, just a year younger than Frank, and (Y/N) had been playing in the scene longer than him, but it just so happened that he got famous from it before her.

But despite all that, (Y/N) still persisted, making music with her band, The Sunny-cide Project, and working her way up in the world. And all that work was finally starting to pay off when the band manager told them that they were going to be playing a pop up show with a really big band. (Y/N) was ecstatic, but the manager wouldn’t tell her who the band was.

The night of the show had arrived, and as (Y/N) looked out the van window and saw the posters that had that smug face plastered all over them, she had to be held back by her bandmates from beating the ever loving shit out of their manager.

“Look, it's just one show and we need the exposure.” Said Vince, the band’s drummer.

“Yeah, and if word gets out that we canceled last minute, you know the word on the street is going to end up being some story about how you were ‘so starstruck to see your idol that you freaked and ran.’ And then we would never get to hear the end of it.” Adrian, the singer, said as he loaded gear onto the stage.

(Y/N) sighed, knowing that her bandmates were probably right, and that she just needed to suck it up for one night, hell, even just a couple hours. So, she straightened up and did her best to make it through the show.

As the event drew closer and people started to flood into the old concert hall floor, (Y/N) watched as the first band took the stage. As she watched from the sidelines, trying to get herself pumped up for her own set, another body was pressing close to her. As she turned to see who it was, she was extremely displeased to be met with the face of the one man she wanted to bump into the least.

“So, I’ve been hearing about you, crazy that were from the same town!” Frank said as he tried to talk to (Y/N), but she wasn’ interested in small talk, especially if it was with him.

“What? You get booked for a My Chem show and now you’re too good?” Frank said as he lightly shoved (Y/N)’s shoulder in a joking manner, but (Y/N) was not in the mood for joking around.

As (Y/N) turned, she shoved Frank back, making him stumble back a few feet before steadying himself.

”Hey, what the fuck is your deal? I’m just trying to talk to you because I was told you were a fan!” Frank shouted.

(Y/N) turned red in the face as all her anger began to boil over.

”You think I’m a fucking fan? Like what, you were just going to come over here and put the moves on me and get an easy fuck?” (Y/N) yelled at Frank, spit flying from her lips as her rage was set free.

Frank stared back at her, unable to form any words. As his large hazel eyes looked at her, (Y/N) only got angrier.

“You’re just some fuck who thinks running around the stage and putting others in danger makes you a badass, and I’m tired of people coming up to me and always assuming I’m a fan of you!” (Y/N) said.

Frank, having heard enough and finally being pushed to his limits on shit talk, quickly walked forward and got in (Y/N)’s face.

”Listen here, princess. I just do whatever the fuck I want on stage, whatever I think feels right. It’s not my fault that you have some type of complex that make you so fucking jealous of me that you feel the need to copy my every move. So if you don’t want to be compared to me, then find someone else to copy off of.” Frank said as he poked his finger into (Y/N)’s chest, his finger prodding just below her collar bone.

(Y/N) scoffed, “Copy you? I’ve been doing this longer than you, harder than you. You want to see something fucking fresh? Fine. I’ll show you who the real copy-fucking-cat is.” (Y/N) pushed Frank back again, but this time she walked off towards the rest of her band and grabbed her guitar just as the previous band’s set had finished.

As (Y/N) took the stage, she strutted out, emphasizing how tight her skinny jeans were. As she played she strummed hard, swinging her guitar around. As she played she looked around the stage, trying to find what her next target would be, as she spotted the rigging beams that lead all the way up to the ceiling. (Y/N) smirked as she strutted over and started to climb, letting her guitar fall behind her as she made it about half way up and looked down at the crowd.

(Y/N) held the beam with one hand as she used the other to hype up the crowd. Right as everyone was cheering, (Y/N) grabbed the neck of her guitar and looked back down to the stage, picking her landing spot. Without warning, she let go of the beam and kicked off, sending herself into a backflip towards the stage.

The landing would have been perfect, except for the fact that (Y/N) landed with her right foot slipping on a cable, her guitar cable to be exact. As her foot slipped she felt her ankle roll, sending a shockwave of pain shooting up her leg. As (Y/N) fell to the ground, the last note of the song rang out, followed by the lights dimming, signaling their set was over and it was time for the headliners to get ready.

As (Y/N) sat on the ground, trying to catch her breath, there was an arm wrapping around her back, helping her up and off the stage. (Y/N) accepted the help, but wasn’t able to see who it was, as the sudden change in lighting causing her to be temporarily blind.

As she neared the backstage area and the dim lighting of the lights granted her back her sight, (Y/N) looked to who was helping her.

His bleached blonde side shaves were nearly pressed to her own head as the longer strands of black laid across her bicep as Frank helped to limp (Y/N) to a seat.

“Alright, you must be fucking crazy if you thought that was going to work out for you.” He said as he sat her down and asked a passing by stage hand for a bag of ice.

As he kneeled down to look at her ankle, (Y/N) spoke, “Crazier than you?” She asked.

Frank looked up at her, a myriad of different emotions danced on his face. First confusion, then anger that she thought it was funny, and then, finally, a smile and a laugh as he realized that he may have finally met the one person crazier than him.

”Yeah,” Frank said, “Yeah, definitely crazier than me.” He laughed.

As the stage hand returned with the bag of ice, they whispered to Frank that it was time to go on. Frank placed the ice on her now elevated ankle and stood before her

”Well, you may not be a fan of me, but I know I sure as hell am a fan of you after that.” Frank said before turning and walking away towards the stage, but turning to look back one last time.

”Wait for me after the show, I’d like to pick your brain on some of those riffs you wrote.” He said.

(Y/N) chuckled and motioned towards her ankle, “Don’t worry, I won’t be going anywhere any time soon.”

[kinascum]

STUPID LAMB ᯓ★

feyd-rautha x captive!reader

wc: 4.9k | summary: each brutal encounter leaves you craving more, trapped in his twisted game of dominance. | nav ♡ taglist

18+ MDNI. DEAD DOVE. noncon/dubcon. captivity/imprisonment. weapon use. substance use/drugging (not described but come on, it's the harkonnens, babe). murder/death (mentions "the attack," which is just an attack on the hkns, where most are defeated resulting in their death). blood/gore. mental health issues (or just a warning for feyd atp). sexual exploitation. forced nudity. BDSM (non-consensual).

You're sitting in a cold, dimly lit room, the stench of fear thick in the air. The walls seem to close in around you as the echoes of distant screams reach your ears. Your heart races as you await the inevitable. The door creaks open, and in strides a figure that sends shivers down your spine—Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, his bald head gleaming under the flickering light, his eyes piercing into the depths of your soul. The very essence of his presence is a declaration of malice and dominance.

He towers over you, his booted footsteps echoing ominously on the metal floor. His handsome yet twisted face contorts into a sneer as he takes in your trembling form. You're a mere pawn in his grand scheme, a piece of information to be squeezed until you burst. But there's something else in his gaze—a hunger, a craving that makes your stomach churn and your nether regions clench in a mix of dread and unwelcome arousal.

Feyd leans in, his breath hot and minty against your face. "So, you're the one they say survived the attack," he rasps, his voice a deadly caress. His eyes rove over your body, noting every detail, every tremble. "I've got a few questions for you, and I expect answers," he says, the edge of his mouth curling into a smirk. "But I'm sure we can find... other ways to make this conversation more enjoyable."

You feel a surge of panic rising in your chest. You know nothing about the attack, nothing that could be of use to him. But as you try to protest, his hand clamps down on your throat, not hard enough to cut off your air, but enough to make your words come out in a squeak. His grip tightens, and his eyes bore into yours, demanding truth. "You will tell me everything," he growls, his thumb tracing a line down to your collarbone. "And if you don't, I'll just have to make you talk another way."

The room spins as his free hand reaches for the hem of your shirt, tugging it up roughly. You try to resist, but his strength is overwhelming. He slaps you—once, twice, three times—each blow sending shockwaves through your body. "Stay still," he hisses, his eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure. "You don't get to enjoy this." But you can't help the way your breath hitches, the way your skin burns where he's touched you.

Feyd's hand moves to the button of your pants, popping it open with a cruel flick of his thumb. He shoves them down your legs, leaving you exposed and vulnerable. He takes a step back, his eyes raking over you with a possessive glint. "On your knees," he commands, his voice thick with desire. You hesitate, but the pressure on your throat increases. You have no choice but to comply.

As you kneel before him, you can't help but notice the bulge in his pants. You know what's coming next, and your body reacts despite yourself. He grabs a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back to look up at him. "Open," he says, his voice a low growl. You obey, feeling his spit hit your tongue. The taste is salty and metallic, and you want to gag, but instead, you swallow, the action making your eyes water.

He smirks, pleased with your submission. "Good," he whispers, his voice low and seductive. He releases your hair, and you feel his hand move to his belt. The sound of it unbuckling echoes in the room, and you know you're in for a world of pain. But deep down, amidst the fear, there's a spark of something else—desire. You know it's wrong, you know you should be terrified, but there's a part of you that craves this depravity.

When his cock springs free, it's massive, thick and veiny. You can't help but stare, your mouth watering despite the situation. He grips it in his hand, stroking it slowly as a drop of his own spit falls on the glistening head. "you're not challenged, are you?" he asks, his voice taunting as he watches you do essentially nothing. "You want me to fuck your pretty little mouth until you can't think straight." You shake your head, trying to deny it, but the wetness between your legs gives you away.

He grabs your chin, tilting your head up. "Look at me," he says, his eyes burning into yours. "Beg for it." You want to resist, but the pressure in your throat is unbearable. "P-please," you whimper, hating the way the word sounds, you convince yourself you're pleading for him to stop. "Please,"

Feyd laughs, a cold, cruel sound that sends chills down your spine. "That's more like it," he says, and then he's pushing into your mouth, his cock filling you until you gag. You try to pull away, but his hand is tight on the back of your head, holding you in place. "Take it," he snarls, and you have no choice but to do as he says.

The feeling of his cock in your mouth is overwhelming, a mix of revulsion and arousal that makes your head spin. You can feel his hands in your hair, guiding you, forcing you to take more and more of him in. He's so rough, so violent, and it's terrifying and exhilarating all at once. You know you shouldn't enjoy this, but the way he uses you, the way he makes you feel so utterly powerless—it's intoxicating.

He pulls out, and you're left gasping for air, tears streaming down your face. But he's not done with you yet. "You're going to beg for me to fuck you," he says, his voice a sinister promise. "You're going to beg like the little peasant you are." His hand moves to his cock again, stroking it slowly as he watches you.

You shake your head, trying to deny the words that are forced out of you. "N-no," you stammer, your voice hoarse from his rough treatment. But the look in his eyes, the way he smirks, tells you that he's going to get what he wants. And deep down, you know you want it too.

He grabs your hair again, tilting your head back so you're staring up at the ceiling. His other hand fists in the fabric of your shirt, ripping it open to expose your breasts. He leans in, his teeth grazing your neck as he whispers, "Go on,"

You feel his hot breath against your skin, and your body responds in ways you never thought possible. "P-please," you start, your voice shaking. "Please, My Lord, take me." It's the first time you've adressed him, and it feels like a betrayal, like you're giving him a piece of yourself that you can never take back.

He chuckles, a dark sound that sends a shiver down your spine. "That's better," he says, and then his mouth is on your breast, biting down hard. You cry out, the pain mingling with the pleasure that's building in your core. His tongue flicks over the sensitive flesh, soothing the ache before he bites again, harder this time.

His hand releases your throat, and you gasp for air, your chest heaving. He notices your reaction and takes it as a sign of encouragement. "Hm," he hums satisfied, his voice a dark purr. "Keep begging."

Your mouth opens, and the words tumble out, a desperate plea for him to take you. "Please, Na-Baron, I need it. I need you to ruin me." The words are barely coherent, but he understands. He steps closer, his cock brushing against your cheek, leaving a trail of precum.

He takes your face in his hand, forcing you to look at him. "You're mine now," he says, his eyes full of lust and possession. "Mine to use, mine to fuck, mine to ruin." And with that, he pushes you onto the cold, hard table, your wrists and ankles strapped down with leather cuffs that bite into your skin.

Your heart races as you feel the head of his cock nudge against your wet, swollen pussy. You can't believe you're about to let this monster inside you, but your body seems to have a mind of its own. You arch your back, silently begging for it.

He teases you, sliding the tip along your slit before pushing in just a little. "Beg for it," he says again, his voice a demand. And so, you do. "Please, please, just spare me," you whimper, the need in your voice undeniable, but in reality you're begging for it to stop, or for him to just kill you, you can't tell anymore.

With a triumphant smile, he thrusts deep, filling you completely. You scream, the pain indistinguishable. His grip on your hips is like iron, holding you in place as he starts to move, each thrust sending a jolt of agony through your body. But it's a sweet agony, a delicious torment that you never knew existed.

You can feel your orgasm building, and you know it's going to be powerful. You try to hold it back, not wanting to give him the satisfaction, but it's no use. You're at his mercy, a toy for his sadistic games. "Cum for me," he orders, his voice harsh. "Cum on my cock."

You feel your body tighten, your muscles clenching around him. You're so close, so close to the edge. And then, with one final, brutal thrust, you're over the edge, your body convulsing with the force of your climax. He grunts, his own release following shortly after, filling you with his warm seed.

As he pulls out, you can't help but feel a sense of loss, as if a part of you has been claimed by this monster. Your vision blurs with the mix of pain and pleasure, and you realize that the line between the two has been obliterated. You lay there, panting, your body still trembling from the intensity of the experience. Feyd stands over you, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes gleaming with victory.

He grabs a fistful of your hair, forcing you to look at him. "You liked that, didn't you?" he asks, his voice dripping with satisfaction. You shake your head, trying to deny it, but your body betrays you. You can feel your pussy still pulsing around his cum, the evidence of your climax a stark reminder of what just happened. "Don't lie," he says, his grip tightening. "I can smell it."

The tears stream down your face, mixing with the spit and sweat. You want to hate him, to despise him for what he's done, but you can't. Some twisted part of you craves the pain, the degradation. He leans in, his mouth hovering just above yours. "Say it," he demands. "Tell me you liked it."

Your voice is barely a whisper when you finally give in. "I liked it," you murmur, the words leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. His smile widens, and he releases your hair, letting your head fall back onto the table. He grabs a handful of your spit-slicked hair again, jerking your head to the side. "Good," he says, his voice low and predatory. "Now, let's see if you can handle more."

You feel his hand move between your legs, his fingers pushing into your still-throbbing cunt. He's rough, almost painful, but you can't help the moan that escapes your lips. He chuckles, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. "You're going to take it all," he says, his voice a dark promise. "Every inch of me, until you're screaming for mercy."

He flips you over, so you're face down on the table, your ass in the air. He slaps it, hard, and you jump. "Spread your legs," he orders, and you do, feeling his hands on your thighs, pushing them apart. His cock nudges against your entrance, and you tense, not sure if you can handle another round. But he's relentless, pushing into you without warning, filling you up once again.

His thrusts are deep and hard, each one sending a shock of pain through your body. You try to scream, but his hand clamps over your mouth, muffling the sound. "You take what i give you," he grunts, his voice strained with his own need. "Ungrateful slut"

The room is a blur of pain and pleasure, his slaps and grunts the only sounds in your world. You can feel yourself losing control, your body responding to his every demand. Your mind screams for it to stop, but your body arches back, begging for more.

His hand moves to your throat, squeezing just enough to make you gasp. "You're mine," he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. "Mine, mine, mine." The chant sends a shiver down your spine, and you know it's true. You're lost in the depravity, a willing participant in his twisted games.

And then, just when you think you can't take anymore, he pulls out, leaving you feeling empty and used. He steps back, his cock glistening with your juices. "Get dressed," he says, his voice cold and detached. "You're not done yet."

You struggle to sit up, your body aching and sore. You pull your pants up, wincing as the fabric scrapes against your sensitive skin. You know that the bruises will form soon, a constant reminder of what happened here. But as you look up at him, you can't help but feel a strange sense of anticipation. You're not sure what's coming next, but you know it's going to be just as terrifying and exhilarating as what's already occurred.

Feyd watches you, his eyes never leaving your body. "You'll be back," he says, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down your spine. "And next time, you'll be ready to tell me everything."

You nod, too scared to speak, too overwhelmed by the experience to do anything but obey. He steps closer, his hand reaching out to stroke your cheek. His touch is surprisingly gentle, almost tender. "Good mutt," he murmurs, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw. "I'll be looking forward to our next meeting."

The door slams shut behind him, leaving you alone in the cold, silent room. You take a shaky breath, trying to compose yourself. Your body feels used, above abused, but there's a part of you that craves more. You know it's wrong, that you should be disgusted by what just happened, but you can't ignore the heat that still pools in your core.

You finish dressing, wincing as the fabric of your shirt brushes against your bruised skin. You can still feel his cum inside you, a constant reminder of his dominance. You try to stand, but your legs wobble, and you sit back down on the edge of the table. You're not sure how long you stay there, trying to process what's happened. But eventually, you force yourself to move.

You walk out of the room, your head held high despite the pain and the tears that threaten to spill over. You know you're not going anywhere—not until Feyd says so. But for now, you're free. Or as free as you can be in this prison of his making.

As you stumble through the hallways, you can't help but feel changed. The fear that once consumed you has been replaced by something else—a need, a hunger. You know he'll be watching you, waiting for you to slip up, waiting for the next time he can take you apart. And you know, deep down, that you'll be eagerly awaiting it.

You find yourself back in your cell, the cold, hard bed a stark contrast to the warmth of Feyd's body. You lie down, feeling the ache between your legs, the stickiness on your skin. You touch yourself, tentatively at first, then with more urgency. You can't get the feel of him out of your head, his cruel words echoing in your ears.

You moan, the sound barely audible as your fingers work you closer and closer to another orgasm. It's not the same without him, but it's something. Something to hold onto until the next time he decides to play his twisted games with you. And as you finally come, you whisper his name into the darkness, a silent declaration of your newfound submission.

The days that follow are a blur of pain and pleasure, fear and desire. You're subjected to his whims, his every demand met with a mix of dread and anticipation. Each time he enters your cell, you know what's to come—the slaps, the choking, the brutal fucking that leaves you trembling and begging for more.

You're not sure how long it's been, but it feels like an eternity. Time has lost all meaning in this place. All you know is Feyd, his touch, his voice, his cock. He's become your world, the center of your existence. And as much as you hate it, as much as you know you should fight, you find yourself craving the next time he'll come for you.

One evening, the door opens, and there he is again. His eyes lock onto yours, and you feel a thrill of terror and excitement. "Ready to talk?" he asks, his voice a low purr. But you know that's not what he really wants. You shake your head, your eyes wide with fear and longing. "No," you murmur, your voice trembling. "I—I can't."

He smiles, a cold, calculating smile that makes your stomach drop. "That's what I thought," he says, moving towards you. "But don't worry, I have other ways of making you speak." And with that, he grabs you, pulling you onto the bed, his hands rough as he strips you bare.

This time, he's slower, more deliberate. He takes his time, savoring every inch of your trembling body. He kisses you, his mouth bruising your lips, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. You taste yourself on him, and it only makes you wetter. His hand moves down to your pussy, his fingers sliding through your slickness. You can't help but whimper, your body betraying you once again.

He pulls away, his eyes gleaming with a dark excitement. "so wet for me," he says, his voice a soft growl. "A pet so eager to be used." His thumb circles your clit, sending sparks of pleasure through your body. You try to push his hand away, but he's too strong. Instead, you find yourself arching into his touch, silently begging for more.

Feyd's smile widens, and he leans in, his breath hot against your skin. "You're going to worship my name," he whispers, his words a promise of pain and pleasure. He slides two fingers inside you, curling them to hit that spot that makes your toes curl. You bite your lip, trying to hold back the moan that threatens to escape. But it's no use. You're his to do with as he pleases, and your body knows it.

He adds a third finger, stretching you wider, preparing you for what's to come. You whimper, your hips bucking involuntarily. He chuckles, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. "You're going to shut up" he says, his voice a dark purr. "And you're going to take my cum"

He pulls his hand away, leaving you feeling empty. You whine, your body craving his touch. But before you can protest, he's pushing into you again, his cock thick and hard. You feel yourself stretching around him, the sensation both agonizing and exquisite. He moves slowly at first, savoring the feel of your tight pussy clenching around him. But soon, the need takes over, and he starts to pound into you, each thrust sending waves of pleasure and pain through your body.

You can't hold back anymore. You scream, his name ripped from your throat in a ragged cry. He loves it, his eyes lighting up with sadistic glee. "That's it," he says, his voice a harsh grunt as you dig into his skin, dark blood staining your fingertips and dead skin finding solace under your nails. "Make me bleed"

As he fucks you, you can feel yourself losing control, your thoughts spiraling into a haze of sensation. You don't know if you're begging for him to stop or to go harder. All you know is that you need this, that you're addicted to the way he makes you feel.

And then, with one final, brutal thrust, he reaches his peak, filling you up with his cum. You feel it spurt deep inside you, the heat of it making your toes curl. Your own orgasm follows, a powerful wave that crashes over you, leaving you gasping for air.

When he pulls out, you collapse onto the thin mattress, your body spent and trembling. He stands over you, stroking his cock, watching the mixture of his seed and your blood dribble out of you. "Lord," he says, his voice a low growl. "A sight for sore eyes, huh?"

You look up at him, tears in your eyes. You know you should be disgusted, should be fighting back. But instead, all you can do is nod. You're his, in every way that matters.

He wipes his cock clean on your thigh, a final act of dominance. "Now, tell me," he says, his voice cold and calculating. "What do you know about the attack?"

And for the first time, you realize that the interrogation isn't over. The fear comes rushing back, but it's tinged with something else—a strange, twisted excitement. You know that no matter what you say, he'll always find a reason to take you again. And a part of you wonders if, deep down, you want him to.

The door opens, and two guards enter the room. "Take her away," Feyd says, his voice bored. "I'm done here."

You're dragged out of the room, your body bruised and sore. But as you're thrown back into your cell, you can't help but think about the next time he'll come for you. And a shiver of anticipation runs through you, a promise of what's to come.

This is your new reality, a cycle of pain and pleasure, fear and desire. And as much as you hate it, you can't help but crave it. Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen has claimed you, and there's no escape from his sadistic games.

As you lie on the cold, hard bed, you can still feel him inside you, his cum leaking out of you. You touch yourself, the ache between your legs a reminder of what happened. And you know that no matter what, you'll never truly be free of him. You're his now, his plaything, his whore. And as you drift off into an uneasy sleep, you whisper his name, a silent promise to submit to his every whim.

[airysthinkingbox]

ok so i actually like this fic AND its laurels so. more food for my fellow monarchlings!! word count: 1390

Wemmbu watched as Lifesteal’s best PvPers ran. It’s the first time, he thinks, he’s ever seen any of them (okay, maybe he’s seen Minute run from a couple of fights) actively avoiding a fight. To think that the best PvPers he’s ever known are running from a fight? An objectively hilarious concept.

In any other circumstance.

Because the +100 players chasing them weren’t the funniest.

Most passed Wemmbu by, too blinded by their goal to care. Others got a few hits in on him before realizing he wasn’t their target right now. He knows that once they’ve taken out the best, they were probably coming for him next.

So, Wemmbu does what Wemmbu does best!...

Okay, well, the thing Wemmbu does best is, like, destroying people’s lives, physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually- whatever, but that’s later in the plan. Cross off hacking and exploiting because he’d thoroughly get banned, and Lifesteal needs their people right now more than ever. And explosives while you’re at it, because they don’t exactly have the means.You might be thinking that there isn’t much Wemmbu could do here, right? Not without changing the server’s code, which he was not about to do. And you’d be wrong! Because, minus literally everything else we just listed; Wemmbu has just the skill to help his friends. Being a distraction!

Doesn’t sound the greatest, but they really had no way to fight off 100 players at once- speaking of which, f#ck. They were coming up fast.

Wemmbu quickly threw a wind charge at one of them, throwing them off their path. That gave the person they were chasing- Minute, he thinks?- an extra second to run before they were on his path again. Okay, that’s the reason why this isn’t very high on Wemmbu’s skill list. Whatever- plan B: tunnel it is.

He whipped around, finding the nearest hill and dug into it. See, tunnels were a great way to escape as they were easy to make/easily accessible (unlike chorus fruit, which you can only get after defeating the dragon or by flying machine over the void- whatever-!), easy to find (good for the person you're helping, but also good for the people chasing them), and you could even block them up! And, in a situation like this, that’s all Wemmbu- and Minute- needed.

Really, he didn’t know where he was going, but he stopped until he reached a cave system. Good; you want these- or, something similar- in an escape tunnel. Wemmbu ran back to the start of the hole to get coords, spamming them in Minute’s DMs. He just hoped the other wasn’t too far.. Or dead. That’d probably be worse.

“WEMMBUUU-!” Minute’s panicked voice flooded his senses, but Wemmbu quickly recovered and gestured for him to get over here.

Luckily, Minute listened- or, followed? How would that work- anyways-! All that matters is that now they were both running down the tunnel, Wemmbu blocking their path with the acquired cobblestone. It’d slow the other SMPs down only temporarily, but all they needed was a second to recuperate and properly make a plan if they were going to live to the third day.

They didn’t exactly stop when they reached the cave, but they certainly slowed down. “You good, man?” Wemmbu asked, looking up and down at Minute’s bloodied suit- his blood, Wemmbu realized embarrassingly late. “No major injuries or anything?”

Minute let out a half-meaningful scoff and began walking in front of Wemmbu, letting the other have a good look at his subtle limp. Okay, not good. There definitely had to be a nasty wound there. “So, you’re acting like you care about me?” He shot back, playful accusation in his voice.

Wemmbu rolled his eyes and quickly caught up with the enderian- maybe a bit closer than usual, just so Minute could lean on him if he needed. “I know I’m a great actor and all, but you just got chased by 20 different people- I think I’m allowed to be a little concerned for your wellbeing,” he answered with a scoff.

Minute’s “Okay bro-” was lost in the overwhelming silence that followed. Well, overwhelming for Wemmbu. It’s not exactly fun having watched your best friend get hunted by a pack of bloodthirsty players. As he’d said, he was concerned for Minute. Not as a stupid way to manipulate him like they’d acted out so many times before on different SMPs- actual concern.

“I think my leg might be fractured..” Minute finally spoke up as they got further into the cave, a low, nervous chuckle concluding his sentence.

Wemmbu looked up from his communicator- already messaging the other Lifestealers where they were-, his tail twitching. “You think?” He repeated, tone still slightly concerned. “Because I’ve been watching you limp your way beside me, wondering when you were going to collapse!”

Minute rolled his eyes, a scoff escaping his lips. “Whatever bro, it just- hurts, a lot. Do you think we’re safe to stop here?” He asked, pace already staggering as he wasn’t hiding his limp as badly anymore.

“Yep,” Wemmbu answered immediately, even though he didn’t fully know if that was true. “I already gave the others our coords- hopefully they can come.” He dragged Minute over to the cave wall and leaned him against it, “In the meantime, I’m patching up all of your wounds, okay?”

Again, Minute rolled his eyes, but allowed himself to be propped up. “Don’t make them worse, okay?” He said teasingly. “Unless you, y’know, are gonna betray me again.”

The purple demon laughed, pulling a roll of bandages from his inventory. “Don’t worry, kitten, you’re in good hands.” He wasn’t. Not in a betrayal sense! Void, no. More like Wemmbu barely knows what he’s doing nor has he done it on anybody besides himself before. “Now: shirt, off. I wanna make sure they didn’t fatally wound you, or whatever.”

Minute’s eyebrows raised, but- again- he complied, working on unbuttoning his suit jacket. “I think you just want to see me naked.”

Had the guy not possibly been injured, Wemmbu would have pushed him by his shoulder. Luckily, he was. “That might just be you, dude.” He laughed, unrolling the bandages. “This is gonna be, like, so bad, but it’ll have to do for now..”

Slowly- and surprisingly gently-, Wemmbu started wrapping the bandages around any deep cuts he could see. Fortunately, there weren’t many, but there were still more than he’d ever seen before on Minute. Ideally, he would’ve had alcohol- or even water would have worked- to clean out the dirt and bacteria, but- again- spooky cave with little resources to work with.“How do you even know they’re there?” Minute asked as Wemmbu wrapped the third cut he’d seen, breaking the silence.

It was a good question, considering Minute’s dark indigo-ish, almost black, blood. Wemmbu shrugged, more focused on his task at hand. “I dunno. I’ve fought you long enough to know how to distinguish your blood from your skin, I suppose.”

Again, a silence blanketed their interaction, more comforting than the last. Wemmbu adjusted the bandages until they were snug around Minute, blocking off the bleeding. “Okay, yeah, that should be good enough for now- we should get going.” He said, pulling away and standing up.

Minute shrugged on his dress shirt, throwing his jacket over his shoulder as he too stood up. He leaned more into Wemmbu for support- an action that honestly surprised the demon for a second. “Okay- um-” he checks his communicator, only to see that nobody had actually read his message with their coords- “Okay! So, nobody's coming!” He chirped sarcastically, arm slinking around Minute's shoulders. “We might just have to sneak back to the bliss base by ourselves.”

“Huh..” the enderian hummed thoughtlessly before a smirk tugged at lips. “And, do you know the coords there?”

Wemmbu scoffed, head turning away from Minute to hide his amused smile. “Not in the slightest! Do you, kitten?” He shot back, knowing full well that Minute probably did.

The enderian rolled his eyes, “Of course you don't..” He sighed, pulling out his own communicator and sent the coords to Wemmbu. “They're not far? I don't think so, anyway.”

Wemmbu smiled brightly, humming low with graditude. He tightened his hold around Minute’s shoulders and began to lead the way to the base.

[lilghostiequinni]

Proven

Main Masterlist Logan Masterlist

Pairing: McLaren reserve driver!female reader x Logan Sargent

Warnings: Fluffy,

Summary: You were a McLaren reserve driver as well as an Indy Car driver for McLaren, but then you met some American boy who's a reserve driver for Mercedes.

Requested: NO / yes

Logan was a good driver with raw talent, but without the practice he needed to properly drive a Formula One car, and that was what being a reserve driver gave him.

The opportunity to practice in one of the best cars there was.

He took that opportunity.

But with that opportunity came meeting you, a female Indy Car driver who was also a reserve driver for McLaren.

You had an amazing relationship with both Lando and Oscar.

It took all but 2 months for Logan to tell you he liked you.

You only gave him a chance because Oscar said he was a good guy.

Within months, you and Logan began dating, and there was no way he was going to let you go now that he had you because you were the most beautiful person he knew.

By the end of the season, Logan had gotten to drive in 3 races because George was sick twice, and Kimi had gotten hurt minorly, enough to not race but just enough to be out for a week.

You supported him the most in those races, knowing he had been working extremely hard to get better at the sport than when he was with Williams.

He got within touching distance of a podium both times, proving he was a good driver, and he just needed the time and car to prove it.

But also the support from a team to prove it.

A/N: From this poll, it was tied for first. I know this is really short, but I wanted to get this one out, and I started to feel bad.

Tags: @llando4norris @mcmuppet @issi-loves-dannyric @ellen3101 @barcelonaloverf1life @scopeiguess @01rrdbull

If you want to be removed from a tag list, let me know so I don't keep tagging you. If you are striked through, I don't know if you want to be tagged, but just let me know if you want me to continue or stop

[srue-on-fire]

Gimme a break!!

I’ve got exams for four weeks and I’m off work. I need some stress relief, so I’m taking prompt requests! Drop an emoji and a number in my inbox and I’ll write something for you!

😇 sfw || 🔞 nsfw

Characters/Ships I write for:

🦌 Evan Buckley

🎖️ Eddie Diaz

❤️‍🔥 Buddie

🫂 Tarlos

🐺 Sterek

❄️ WinterIron

🦋 Stony

🪖 Stucky

✨ Malec

Read the collection of AO3!

prompts below the cut!

Prompts

1. “I’ll take care of you.”

2. “You’re my home.”

3. “I made you coffee. The good kind.”

4. “I thought I lost you.”

5. “We have a tradition, and I refuse to break it.”

6. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

7. “Come back to bed.” ❤️‍🔥

8. “I like the way you say my name.”

9. “Don’t you dare die on me.”

10. “You steal my hoodies, and I pretend not to notice.”

11. “I don’t know how to be without you.”

12. “You're my emergency contact. Why?”

13. “This is the worst plan you’ve ever had.” – “That’s just incorrect.”

14. “If you marry them, I will never forgive you.”

15. “Oh my god, we were holding hands. Did you even realize?”

16. “You left me.” – “You told me to.”

17. “I thought soulmarks were supposed to be beautiful. Why does mine just say ‘Move, asshole’?”

18. “I was supposed to protect you.” ❤️‍🔥

19. “Why are you cuddling me?” – “You were cold.” ❄️

20. “Tell me to walk away, and I will.”

21. “You need to stop sneaking out. It’s giving me a heart attack.”

22. “You’ve been staring at my lips for the last five minutes.”

23. “Do you even realize what you mean to me?” 🐺

24. “You have no idea how much I wish that was me.”

25. “You’re shaking. Come here.”

26. Stuck in a cabin during a storm. 🦌

27. One of them gets injured, the other loses their mind over it.

28. A proposal, but it doesn’t go as planned. 🦌

29. Accidental confession over a comm during a mission.

30. Undercover mission, but they have to pretend to be married.

31. Cooking together, but one of them is completely hopeless in the kitchen.

32. A game of truth or dare gets way too real.

33. Their friends keep trying to set them up, not realizing they’ve already been dating for months.

34. Character A finds Character B unconscious and panics. 🐺

35. Character A is in the hospital, and Character B refuses to leave their side.

36. Character A finds Character B asleep in their bed —again.

37. Character A can’t sleep, so Character B absentmindedly plays with their hair until they do.

38. One of them is badly injured and delirious, confessing feelings they wouldn’t say otherwise.

39. One of them is drunk and accidentally confesses something they shouldn’t have.

40. One of them is sick, and the other takes care of them, but they’re a terrible patient.

Thank you! 💜 If you share your ao3 handles, I'll tag you in the work!

[httpsserene]

I’m begging you, please write something for us Lance girlies.

meet cute? bookmarked! — 𝐥𝐬. 𝟏𝟖 lance stroll x fem!black!reader requested! smau. vacation romance. girls trip. love at first sight. fluff. profanity. mentions of reader’s previously failed relationships. reader has a mom and sister. sibling dynamics (bullying). friendship. delusion. reader has a puppy.

synopsis: it’s the most wonderful time of the year! you swear there’s love in the air. however, your friends, family, and fans think you need intensive therapy.

༊࿐ ⊹ ˚. i wish peace, love, and happiness on everyone’s soul…and i hope my unexpected lance stroll smau series distracts you from the torment of the race weekend.

⌕ join taglist | reqs & feedback | upcoming chapters | table of contents | next ↻

twitter • ynplays • december 11th

imessage • yn and friends

instagram • ynplays • dec12th • winter wonderland ⚑

liked by kyedae, taytagames, yourmom, and 13,244 others

ynplays: brr 🥶 if only their was a 6-foot, brown-eyed, strong man to keep me warm 😏🥺

tagged yoursister, yourbestie, yourfriend1, yourfriend2

view comments

user1 so it starts 😣

➥ user2 please let this be a normal vacation!!!

➥ user3 with yn??? no way

yourmom i didn't raise you to act like this…

➥ yoursister mom idk where you went wrong with her

➥ ynplays she let me have unmonitored access to the internet

➥ user4 ah that makes sense 🙂‍↕️

➥ user5 that'll do it mhm

yourbestie please can we go inside the fucking resort my ass is freezing as im typing this

➥ yourfriend1 u just mad bc u slipped and busted your ass

➥ yourbestie would you be mad if i punched you so hard yo nose broke?

➥ user6 heyyYYY come getcho friends yn!!!

➥ user7 they about to crash out 😳😳😳

user8 lots of athletes like to go skiing and snowboarding during their winter breaks 👀

➥ yourfriend2 DO NOT give her any ideas, pls im begging you 🧎🏽‍♀️🧎🏽‍♀️🙏🏽🙏🏽

➥ user8 american football players, basketball players, racecar drivers, hockey players, tennis players...😏

➥ ynplays omg ao3 fic, meet-cute, 654k words, love at first sight, strangers to lovers, no angst, happy ending, hockey player x yourname romance irl???

➥ yourfriend2 i begged,,,

twitter • ynplays • december 12th

instagram • ynplays • dec13th • the slopes ⚑

liked by yoursister, qtcinderella, yourbestie, and 15,093 others

ynplays: sega’s first snow and my first day on the slopes 🥹🐶

tagged yoursister, yourbestie, yourfriend1, yourfriend2, segagenesisthedawg

view comments

user9 is your puppy named after the video game franchise, SEGA?

➥ ynplays yes! sega made mortal kombat which is my fav fighting game, so i named her after the company :)

➥ ynplays also, you can't forget about sonic and persona (super monkey ball too!!!)

➥ user10 me n the boys go crazy on super monkey ball

yourbestie pretty girl < 3

➥ yoursister if i was a man...mhm 😈

➥ yourfriend1 why do u always say some weird shit

➥ user11 turning your family tree into a circle energy

user12 are you just skiing or are you going to snowboard too??

➥ ynplays i want to do both! starting with skiing bc it's a "ski" resort ig? but i can't wait to try a board :)

➥user13 sounds like a fun! hope you have a nice vacay < 3333

user14 YNNNN ⚠️⚠️ you should get some of those plush turtles that you put on your butt so it doesn't hurt as much when you fall ⚠️⚠️

➥ user15 yes omg like this comment so she can see ittttt

➥ user16 those cushions literally saved my ass when i went boarding last year fr

➥ ynplays should i get one? do they sell them anywhere near the resorts?

➥ user16 yes, they should!

igstory • ynplays uploaded!

[caption; well,,,i think i need skiing lessons. hope the man i ran into has less snow down his shirt than i do.]

user17: eating shit is a staple of learning to ski

user18: the man 😀🫨 ynplays: i think it was the same dude who opened the door for me !!! user18: babe that's fate atp i don't make the rules

yourfriend2: i think you're about to have your meet-disaster. look up, he's skiing our way ynplays: oGM WH$T TH3!?!!

twitter • ynplays • december 13th

igstory • ynplays uploaded!

[caption1; he said i was a total loss at skiing and taught me how to snowboard instead ;p] [caption2; is it love if he buys you $25 ski resort hot cocoa?]

user19: oh no you're down BAD

yourfriend1: idk if it’s love but it's a stupid purchase 👏🏽 i can tell you that much

yoursister: no the fuck it's not love 🤬

user20: $25 HOT COCOA?!! outrageous user20: you better marry that man ynplays: you understand me on an subatomic level

instagram • yourbestie • dec13th • the shredder ⚑

liked by ynplays, yoursister, yourfriend2, and 8,764 others

yourbestie: we’re all way better at this snowboarding thing, even yn. thanks to her “brown eyed beau” 🤨 (her name not mine)

tagged yoursister, yourbestie, yourfriend1, yourfriend2, ynplays

view comments

user21: oh them drinks look thirst quenching 🤤🤤🤤

➥ user22: i wish free refills were implemented worldwide

user23: they would have to chain me up in my room if i were at this resort...i'd be foaming out the mouffff 😮‍💨🥴

➥ user24: bro what 🤣🤣🤣

➥ user25: think it's time you get castrated lil bro

➥ user26: watchlist type beat 🫵🏽🫵🏽🫵🏽

yourfriend1: i thought this was supposed to be a girls trip :(

➥ yourfriend2: it never is with yn unfortunately

➥ yourbestie: FRFR this turned into the girls....and l****

➥ ynplays: don't be fucking rude 😒

➥ ynplays: he payed for our drinks and taught me how to shred ☹️

user27: "l****" ???? alright agents let's find out who this mfer is

➥ user28: *brushes off my criminal justice degree*

➥ user29: i've compiled a list of five letter boy names that start with L on a google doc and male celebs who have posted any ski resort pics or those who implied they were going

➥ user30: i have a google doc of all the male athletes who have posted any skiing/snowboading/resort pics AND athletes who implied they were going somewhere cold for holiday

➥ user29: ,,,i like your style. let's merge our docs 🤝

➥ user31: post the link on twitter and let's fucking get to it

© httpsserene - do not reupload. photos in header image are from pinterest. divider by @cafekitsune.

[coff33andb00ks]

Rule Breaker - Pt 8

pairing:max Verstappen x single mom!reader x logan sargeant {masterlist}{prev} {next} warnings: cursing, minimally proofread, smut (minors DNI) Summary: you can start a family who will always show you love, you don't have to be sorry for doing it on your own word count: 7.5k auth.note: smut gods have returned to me all hail spotify: i made a playlist taglist: to be added to this or my other taglists, use this form

"Ahh." The sigh was accompanied by a happy grin as he leaned back, his eyes closed against the sun.

Y/n snorted on a laugh. "Living the life, huh, doodle bug?" she teased, watching him tuck his arms behind his head.

"Uh huh." Kevin wrinkled his nose when she reached to rub more sunscreen on his face. "When Mister Logan gets here can we go in the water?"

"Of course, you know he promised to take you in." She personally didn't venture far past where the waves broke. At least Kevin was content to play in the sand until Logan came down, which should be soon.

"He's not afraid of the water," Kevin said, sitting up so she could apply sunscreen to his ears and neck.

"Nope, he's not," she murmured, squeezing the cream onto his hand so he could rub it into his arms. "Mama's not afraid, either. I'm just afraid of what's in the water."

Kevin giggled, flopping back on the blanket like a starfish. "Just fishes, mama!"

"Ugh, and jellyfish and seaweed and crabs and—" She shuddered dramatically, smoothing his sun shirt and helping herself to a drink from the cooler before settling back in her beach chair, content to sit under the umbrella and watch the waves.

They'd arrived in North Carolina late the night before. Kevin had invited Logan to the family beach trip and she'd been surprised when he'd said he would love to go, having assumed he wanted to spend the summer break with his own family. And then she'd worried that it was too soon to introduce him to her parents, that it was pushing things into the serious category. And then—

"Jesus christ, y/n, take the boy and have fun."

Ellie's words rang in her mind and she gave her head a little shake. She didn't know why she'd worried. Her family seemed to like him. Her dad and uncle had invited him to go fishing with them after talking to him for five minutes, and they'd taken him down to their favorite shop to get him the gear.

She wondered what they'd say when they found out she was also dating the grote maat Mister Max that Kevin kept talking about.

"Y/n!"

Turning, she saw her mom coming along the boardwalk from the cottage. She half stood, then groaned when she noticed the phone she was carrying. "I'm on vacation," she whined even though her mom couldn't hear her. Next to her, Kevin giggled.

"Might be Aunt Ellie?" he asked, staying on the blanket as she snorted and crossed the sand to meet her mom at the bottom of the steps down the dune.

"Someone named Max keeps calling you," her mom said, handing over the phone.

Frowning, she took the phone and squinted at it in the sunlight. "I should call him back—"

"Go on, I'll sit with Kevin. Your dad just texted me, they're on the way back now." Her mom patted her shoulder and headed across the sand.

Worried that something might be wrong, she jogged up the steps and to the cottage, breathing a sigh as soon as she was inside and could see the screen properly. Seven missed calls, two voicemails. Her heart thudded as she saw his most recent text – Call me please – and she did so immediately, pacing on the screened in porch of the second level.

"What's wrong?" she blurted as soon as the call connected.

Max let out a breath. "Wrong?"

"You've called me seven times."

"Yes. I need directions."

She held her breath and pressed her lips together. It had only been two days and it was so nice to hear his voice, but she couldn't focus on that right now. "Directions."

"Well, an address would be better."

"Do I look like Google maps?" she huffed.

Max laughed. "Didn't you listen to my voicemails or read the texts?"

Muttering a curse, she pulled the phone from her ear and went to her texts.

I need to meet with Logan and don't have his number.

I'm in the States, coming your way. It's important. Call me?

Y/n, where's the beach place? All I know is OBX and I need an address.

"You're coming here?!" she yelped, pressing the phone to her ear again.

"Yes…"

"What's going on? Why do you need to talk to Logan?" she asked.

"I'll explain everything when I get there."

"Is it bad?" She couldn't help but worry.

"No, I promise it's not bad. It's about next year."

Her heart dropped at the thought of next year, because she knew Logan didn't have a seat. But Max said it wasn't bad? Her heart lifted, lodging in her throat. "Do you know something?"

He groaned. "I just landed in… Currituck?"

"Oh my god," she gasped. "You're really here?"

"I'm really here." And she could hear the gentle smile in his voice.

"I'll text you the address." She rubbed a hand over her face. "You scared the shit out of me."

"I'm sorry, schatje."

Just like that, he was forgiven. "I'll see you in a bit."

"Can't wait," he murmured.

Ending the call, she texted him the cottage's address, torn between giddiness and anxiety. Kevin would be so happy. She was so happy. Logan would be—

Logan.

Calling him, she waited for Max's acknowledgment of her text, unable to keep the smile from her face as the thumbs up emoji appeared.

"Hey babe, we're like two minutes away," Logan greeted. He sounded so relaxed and happy it made her heart want to sing.

"Clingy!" her uncle's voice rang out in the background.

Rolling her eyes, she couldn't help but laugh. "I just talked to Max."

"Yeah? He good?"

"Um… He's on his way here."

There was a beat of silence, though she could hear her father and uncle yapping in the background. "Wait, really?" Logan asked. "Why?"

"He said he has to meet with you. He—" She pulled the phone away to glance at the text from Max. "He'll be here in about forty-five minutes. All he said is it's about next year."

"Nothing's happened, has it?" he asked softly.

"He said it isn't bad," she promised, hearing his breath of relief.

"I— Shit, we're here, see you in a sec."

She laughed and ended the call, hearing the slamming of truck doors. After glancing out at the beach to see her mom and Kevin chasing the waves across the sand, she made her way to the back of the cottage and down to the ground level, squealing softly when Logan wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off the bottom step.

"You look so hot," he murmured before giving her a kiss.

"It's like ninety degrees out, of course—"

"You know what I mean," he groaned, kissing her again as he set her down on the cement.

"Gross," her dad muttered.

Wrinkling her nose, she ignored her father and smiled up at Logan. "Did you get your gear?"

"Yeah, I'll show you later? Gonna change and hit the water with Kev before Max shows up," he murmured. There was worry in his eyes, though, and she squeezed his hand before going back up the stairs and inside to the bedroom they shared, grabbing a hair tie to fix her messy bun. Logan reached around her to put his wallet on the dresser and she saw the hair tie around his wrist, where he'd put it the week before. Every time she saw it she felt the need to hug him and settled for patting his arm for now, smiling when he dropped a kiss to her shoulder.

"He promised it isn't bad," she reminded him as he pulled a pair of board shorts from his suitcase.

"I know, but…" He sighed.

"Babe," she murmured, waiting for him to look at her. "We're on vacation, remember? No stress."

"No stress," he agreed with a nod. "You coming down to the beach?"

She nodded, picking up her phone and setting a timer so she could be on the lookout for Max. "Can't miss Kev's first dip of the summer."

"Your dad pointed out a miniature golf place on the way back," he said as they headed out. "I was thinking we could go one day while we're here? Seems like something Kev would enjoy."

"He'd love that. And maybe hit one of the go-kart tracks?"

Logan's face lit. "They've got karting?"

"Calm down, it's regular people karting," she laughed.

Thanking the driver again, Max shouldered his backpack and glanced warily at the house, trying to decipher where the entrance was. It was built on stilts, two trucks parked beneath the house, two SUVs parked to the side. About to pull out his phone to call y/n, he heard a door slam and looked up, smiling at the sight of her in a bikini leaning over the railing of the porch above.

"You really flew here to see Logan?" she called down and he had to laugh.

Because it sounded so ridiculous, him flying all the way to America to talk to Logan. A conversation that could easily have been done over the phone. Or FaceTime. And yet…

He'd wanted to see them. All three of them.

She was walking to the end of the porch and he finally saw the stairs going up. Even though he was exhausted from the flight and the wait for the second flight and the drive down to her family's vacation home he moved quickly, surprised at how happy he was to see her again even though it had only been a few days.

"Hey," she murmured when they met at the halfway point of the stairs.

"Schatje," he sighed, dropping his suitcase as she wrapped her arms around him. Sunkissed skin was warm beneath his hands and he sighed, breathing in cocoa butter and watermelon. He wished the kiss could have lasted longer and relished every second of it, still awed at each physical touch from her after so many weeks of stolen hugs and lingering kisses.

"Logan's in the water with Kevin," she told him as she led him upstairs and into the house. "You can change in our room – you can't go on the beach in jeans."

He scoffed at that, following her down the hallway and into a bedroom while she told him the cottage had six bedrooms, four bathrooms, a ground level apartment that they only used for storage and laundry, and the upper level was where the living, dining, and kitchen were, along with another bedroom suite and a sun deck.

"Your family owns it?" he asked, setting his backpack down as he glanced around, seeing evidence that she and Logan had spent time in the room. Seeing her nod, he looked around again. "It's quite expensive, isn't it?"

"I don't know the details, my grandparents bought it back in the 1980s… My mom said a few years ago it was assessed at around two million. Why?"

"I didn't know you were rich," he teased.

Her jaw dropped. "We're not!"

"It's not a bad thing, schatje."

"I'm not rich. Neither are my parents. They both work, and they rent this out year-round to pay the taxes and the upkeep and…" She narrowed her eyes and huffed out a breath. "I'm not gonna defend my family against a man who owns his own jet."

Laughing, he reached to unbuckle his belt, hesitating only briefly.

She cleared her throat. "Come on upstairs and I'll introduce you once you've changed? Then we can hit the beach?"

He nodded, waiting until she'd left and closed the door before taking off his jeans. They hadn't been intimate, yet, and he had decided he wasn't going to ask her about it or even mention it. Their relationship was far from traditional, far from anything he'd ever experienced. They'd agreed to keep things as private and almost secretive as possible because he was still worried she could lose her job, and though he wanted to be open about it, to casually mention on a stream or in a conversation – can't make it, going to dinner with y/n – he found he didn't mind holding it close. The only people that knew were Logan, y/n, and himself. And Kevin, because even before he'd admitted to himself that he wanted to be more than just friends with her the boy had pointedly said—

"You like mama."

If only Kevin knew the half of it.

After changing he made his way upstairs, hearing y/n's voice along with others. The stairwell led into a large open living area and he paused, enjoying the familial scene of y/n stirring something in a pot while a woman who looked like a slightly older version of her sat on a stool at the counter, writing something down. Another woman was sitting next to her, pointing out things in a grocery store sales paper.

The top stair creaked, and all three women turned to look at Max.

"Oh hello," the woman writing gave him a warm smile as she set the pen down and slid off the stool. "You must be Max."

"Yeah, that's me," he greeted, glancing at y/n.

Y/n put the lid on the pot and walked over and made the introductions. Max couldn't help but notice she'd put an oversized shirt on over her bikini and so he kept his expression neutral, understanding without her telling him that her family was unaware they were more than just friends.

"We're so happy to have you, Kevin won't shut up about you," y/n's mother said with a grin. "Y/n said you came all this way to talk to Logan?"

"Yes… I won't intrude for long," he began.

"Oh no honey you're not intruding at all. You'll have to stay a few days." She patted his shoulder. "We've got plenty of room."

Max got the feeling that if he tried to decline he'd be ignored so he merely smiled and nodded, thanking her even though she was already walking away, telling y/n's aunt that they would go to the store after she made the bed for him. Glancing to y/n, he rolled his eyes when she merely shrugged.

"Better get you to the beach before she has you staying here the whole summer break," she muttered, leading him through the living area to the open sliding glass door that led out onto a sunny deck. "Mom, we're going to the beach so he can see Logan and Kevin."

"Alright – send me a text if there's anything he can't or won't eat," her mother called after them. "We're gonna get some groceries."

"I'll introduce you to my dad and uncle later, they went down to the pier," y/n assured him, closing the door.

Glancing in the direction she pointed, Max could just make out the pier and nodded, following her down another set of stairs and past an outdoor shower. She pointed out the covered porch on the lower level, mentioning a hot tub then led him along the boardwalk over the dune.

"It's not St. Tropez or the Bahamas," she said as they stood at the top of the steps, both watching Logan lift Kevin above the cresting waves at the shoreline. "But it's…"

Max nodded, lightly brushing her fingers with his. "It's special to you, isn't it?"

"Yeah," she said softly. "It is."

"Then it's beautiful," he said, watching a small wave crash over Kevin, smiling when he heard the boy's delighted squeals.

"Oh, Max," she sighed. He barely caught it before the wind took it away, but he knew he would hold onto the glimmer in her eye for the rest of his life.

"Mister Max!" Kevin shrieked.

He was dripping wet and half covered in sand by the time Max got to him but he scooped him up regardless, grinning as the boy hugged his neck tightly. "I missed you too, kleine maat," he promised. "You're having fun, hm?"

Kevin nodded vigorously, water spraying from his curly hair. "We took the plane and Mister Logan got us ice cream and Mama slept while Mister Logan drived us! And Nana cooked us hot dogs at midnight! And I'm goin' fishin' with Papa and Uncle Mike and Mister Logan!"

"I can't wait to see how many fish you catch." Max hugged him back, nodding when Kevin asked if they could build a sandcastle one day.

"I gotta pee," Kevin announced.

"I told him to go in the water," Logan said with a chuckle, shaking water from his hair.

"Ew." Kevin sounded disgusted and Max grinned, handing him over to his mother.

"C'mon, let's get to the bathroom," she sighed, settling him on her hip before sharing a look with Logan and Max.

"We'll get the stuff, babe," Logan promised.

Max watched her walk back towards the cottage, waiting until they disappeared from his view before turning to Logan. The smile had faded from his face and he sighed. "It's not bad, mate."

"You flew halfway around the world without warning, Max, what am I supposed to think?" Logan sighed harshly. "Did you hear something? I already know Carlos has my spot—"

"It's not about him," he assured, walking with him to the beach chairs and umbrella, wordlessly helping him shake the sand from the towels and stuff them into the bag. "It's Checo."

Logan jerked his head up, brow furrowing as he grabbed the shirt from the back of one of the chairs. "Checo?"

"You can't tell—"

The other man nodded. "A soul, I know."

"His contract renewal is being canceled. It might already be, I haven't checked in with Christian since I landed." He'd been too focused on getting here. On seeing them. Max watched him pull the shirt over his head, smiling faintly at the Red Bull emblem now over his chest.

"Really? I thought…" Logan combed his fingers through his hair.

Shrugging, he watched droplets of seawater trickle down Logan's neck and unconsciously licked his lips. "His performance is lacking. Resting on his laurels, Christian said."

"So who's gonna replace him?" Logan reached to lower the umbrella and Max belatedly pulled a chair over to fold it.

"I don't know. They're thinking Daniel. It's not a hundred percent guaranteed."

"You came out all this way just to tell me this?" Logan looked confused.

"No, I came to tell you that—" Max finally got the chair folded and let it drop onto the sand. "I know Daniel will take the seat. It might not be fully decided, but Christian wants him, I want him, and I know he'll gladly come back to the team."

Logan nodded, adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. "I'm happy for him. He was great in Red Bull."

"Yeah—"

"What's this gotta do with me?"

And Max knew it had to happen. That he had to do everything in his power, short of threatening to tear up his own contract, to make what he was about to say come true. "I talked to Christian last night. He's got a good relationship with Laurent, and… Well, I told him you deserve Daniel's spot."

The umbrella fell over. "You what?"

"I told him—"

"Do you really think that?" Logan asked softly.

Max rubbed the back of his neck, finally nodding. "Well, yeah. You just need a good team, mate."

Logan smiled. Above the sound of the wind and the waves Max heard his breath stutter and swallowed hard. "I really appreciate it, Max. I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything," he assured him. "I'll message Christian, tell him you're interested. That's all I can do."

"That's more than most people would do for me." Smiling, Logan reached out and Max was being hugged. He faltered at first, not expecting the touch, but quickly recovered, returning the embrace. Logan chuckled, apologizing for being wet.

Max shook his head, finding he didn't mind that the hug lasted longer than it really should have. "It's fine."

"Are you staying?" The question came as they walked back to the cottage.

"Her mum didn't even ask, she just told me I have to stay a few days." Max opened his mouth to apologize for barging in on their time together, but Logan's next words stopped him.

"That's good, mate, we love having you around."

He mulled that over while he followed Logan to the ground level apartment, glancing around at the accumulation of years of family beach time. Floaties, chairs, umbrellas, beach toys. Bins were labeled and stacked in an attempt at organization but it was a bit messy, like a family should be. Handing over the towels when Logan led him into the laundry room, he cleared his throat. "Do you?"

"Huh?"

"Love having me around," he mumbled.

"Well, yeah." Logan gave him a grin, tossing the towels into the washer and peeling off his shirt. "It's like… I don't know, probably sounds weird."

"We're both dating the same woman, mate, can't get weirder than that."

Logan's laugh made the chill, damp room seem warm and bright. "True. But it's like… It feels complete when you're with us. You know what I mean?"

He did but he couldn't bring himself to say it.

"I love being with her. And Kev. They…" Logan paused, pulling a clean towel from the basket on top of the dryer. "They mean the world to me."

Max nodded. He knew that feeling very well. "Then—"

"And you just…" He shrugged, and Max looked away when he reached to take off his wet shorts. "You balance us out, you know?"

"I know," he whispered, waiting until he heard the lid of the washer clang shut before looking back at him, wondering why he was almost disappointed to see the towel wrapped around his hips. "I know what you mean, mate."

"It's weird, huh?"

"Yeah," he murmured. "But I kind of like it."

The words echoed back to him in Logan's voice and his breath caught as their eyes met. Logan looked surprised too and they both stared at one another. Max knew he should say something – anything – but he couldn't think of a thing to say. At least, nothing that would change the subject.

"I need you to get that seat next season. For you. For y/n. For Kevin. For us."

"Us," Logan repeated.

Was this how she felt when Logan looked into her eyes? Breathless and a little shaky and body thrumming with anticipation? Or was she used to it now? Did Logan feel it, too? Or had he gone completely insane in the past three months? He nodded. "Us. Th-the four of us. Or the two of us – I mean. Fuck, I know what I mean. You're not stupid, you know what I mean too."

"I know." Barely a whisper. "I just didn't know you felt it, too."

Too. "How long?" he asked softly.

Logan swallowed. "I dunno. Since you started talking to me more. Maybe Montreal, when I could tell you didn't care I wanted to hang out with you and Kev."

He wanted to ask why he hadn't said anything. But he already knew because he hadn't said anything for the same reasons. Logan was bad at talking about his feelings, and Max wasn't much better. Especially feelings like this, that he knew would be ridiculed by some people around them. "It's not… Weird?"

A smile that crinkled his eyes and Max barely heard the words. "Yeah, but I kind of like it."

Her family liked Max. She'd known they would, known his wit and laidback attitude would charm them, not to mention the way he doted on Kevin. Her mother did give her a look when Kevin slipped and called Max Daddy again, but she was able to avoid that possibly awkward conversation by putting away groceries then taking Kevin to the beach to build a sandcastle with Max, then putting him down for a nap and taking a shower and then it was time to start dinner and she slipped away to enjoy a couple drinks up on the sun deck with guys. Her dad talked about fishing and when he mentioned doing one of the deep-sea fishing tours Max voiced an interest. The next thing she knew she was trailing behind the four men back inside, bewildered as they crowded around her uncle's laptop to pull up the website and book a boat at the end of the week.

"As long as you don't mind me staying longer than a couple days," Max said.

"Naw, of course not." This from Uncle Mike. "You're a good kid."

She knew she was grinning like a fool, and it only widened when Max glanced up to smile at her.

"Yeah he's alright," Logan said, grinning and throwing an arm around Max's shoulders and squeezing.

Oh. She lifted an eyebrow at that and saw Max's cheeks turn pink before he ducked his head again, and decided that was another delayed conversation. Finishing her drink, she hummed softly as she carried the bottle to the sink to rinse it before tossing it into the recycling bin and checking the marinara sauce. "I'm gonna go check on Kev," she told her mom, who nodded.

As if summoned, Kevin came shuffling up the stairs, dragging his blanket and stuffed Snoopy along with him. His hair was a wild mess of curls and his cheeks were pink from being in the sun earlier, and when he saw that Max was still there he grinned, ignoring her completely in favor of Max and Logan. She felt her heart turn to mush as the two men spoke gently to him, asking about his nap and if he'd gone potty, was he hungry for dinner, all while Max fixed his blanket and Logan shifted him so he was tucked between them on the couch.

Her mom hummed softly, giving her a smile.

Her aunt was less reserved. "So nice of your boyfriend's boyfriend to join us," she said softly.

"Carol!" her mom squawked, slapping her with a dishtowel.

"Oh like you weren't thinking it," Carol huffed, rolling her eyes. "Mike, the salad."

"Yep, I'm coming – here, finish this reservation for us," Mike said, pushing the laptop to Max. "Use this card."

Y/n pretended not to notice that Max used his own card. Shooed from the kitchen, she joined him and Kevin on the couch when Logan insisted on helping fix the salad. "Deep-sea fishing, huh?"

"I'm not a fisher, but I think it'll be fun, yeah?" He left the laptop open on the confirmation screen, leaning to set it on the coffee table.

"What's dipsy fishing?" Kevin asked.

Max laughed softly, smoothing his unruly curls as he explained. When Kevin said he wanted to go, Max was gentle but firm that he wasn't quite big enough just yet.

When he promised to take him as soon as he was big enough, y/n knew nothing and no one in the world would stop him. Because Max kept his promises.

"Okay," Kevin murmured, giving him a hug before sliding down, saying he was going to pee.

Max leaned back with a soft sigh. "I spoke to Logan."

"Will you tell me?" she asked.

"You'll find out soon enough, but…" He sighed again, and she listened in surprise and fascination as he told her about Checo, about Daniel, about him pushing Christian to suggest Logan for Daniel's vacancy.

"Oh Max," she whispered, touching his arm briefly. She couldn't hug him – aunt Carol might have teased about Max being Logan's boyfriend, but she knew her hugging him would raise questions she wasn't sure she knew the answer to just yet. So she squeezed his arm, knew by the way he nodded that he understood. If he were anyone else she would question his motives, maybe even accuse him of trying to help Logan as a way to impress her, but she knew Max well enough to know he wouldn't stand up for Logan if he didn't believe in him as a driver.

"Don't cry, schatje," he whispered, lightly patting her thigh.

"I won't," she mumbled despite feeling the sting in her eyes.

"Go check on Kevin," he suggested.

She nodded, getting to her feet and heading to the bathroom, knowing it was his way of making sure no one noticed her tears if and when they fell. Her son was just finishing up and she fixed his shorts, dabbing a little of her mom's aloe vera onto his pink cheeks. It pulled her mind off her emotions and she washed her hands, feeling relatively normal when she began setting the table.

Dinner was leisurely and filled with chatter and laughter, Kevin telling his grandparents about the race tracks he'd been to, though his stories revolved around the animals he'd seen as opposed to the actual races. Max and Logan took turns asking her parents questions about themselves and when they both set their forks down to listen to her father talk about growing up on a farm she knew they'd won him over. And when Max insisted he and Logan take care of the dishes she was certain her mom and aunt fell in love a little bit.

After dinner her parents went for a walk on the beach and her aunt and uncle went to a local bar. Kevin was content to watch a movie, still obviously tired from spending most of the day on the beach, and Logan stretched out on the couch with him. She could tell that the jet lag was getting to Max so she went down to move his suitcase and backpack into the bedroom across from the one she and Logan were sharing. He followed her a few moments later, and she looked over her shoulder to see him leaning in the doorway as she turned on the lamp.

"Are you going to tuck me in, too?" he asked with a smile.

She rolled her eyes, smiling as she crossed to him. "Don't you think you're a little too old to be tucked in?"

He scoffed softly, stepping into the room and winding his arm around her waist. "Will you stay with me a bit?"

"Of course."

She sat on the bed, getting comfortable and leaning against the pillows while he undressed to his boxer briefs and pulled on a clean t-shirt. He filled her in on how Jimmy and Sassy were doing then went into the ensuite with his toiletry bag, returning after a couple minutes and practically collapsing onto the bed next to her. She reached to smooth her hand over his head. "Still can't believe you flew fourteen hours for something that could have been a phone call."

Max smiled, idly tracing her knee with one finger, shifting so his head rested in her lap. "It could have been, but…"

She stayed silent, continuing to run her fingers through his short hair. Simply enjoying the quiet moment alone with him. Usually they were strained, a time limit set in place because a million things were waiting to be done. Feeling him relax, she unfolded her legs, smiling when he turned so he could look up at her.

Oh how she adored his eyes. How they could change from crystal clear to the deep of the ocean that was so close to them. She had been so foolish, thinking them just a normal blue, when they held all the shades and hues of the skies and seas that she loved. And the more she looked into them the more she saw the emotions.

They shone with vulnerability right now.

"I've grown used to you being close by," he whispered. "Is it too soon to say that?"

"No, I don't think so," she murmured. "I don't want to think about having to follow a specific timeline in a relationship."

"Figure it out as we go, right?" His smile chased the fear from his eyes.

"Are we figuring it out?" she asked softly, though she thought she knew the answer.

"I think we already did."

There was a soft knock on the door and she sighed at the interruption.

"Yeah?" Max called softly.

The door opened and Logan leaned in, a half-sleep Kevin on his shoulder. "Someone wants to say goodnight."

Y/n began to slide to the edge of the bed as Max sat up. "I'll ta—"

"I've got him, babe, it's okay." Logan brought Kevin over, motioning for her to sit back as he passed Kevin to Max.

Max hummed, and she immediately relaxed. He exchanged goodnights with Kevin and she felt her heart filling with warmth as the boy hugged him tightly, whispering love you before shuffling over to her.

"Goodnight sweetheart," she whispered, hugging him close and peppering his face with kisses. "Love you so much."

"G'night mama, love you." Kevin kissed her cheek then crawled over to Logan.

All she could feel was peace in that moment and she leaned back against the pillows, watching the way Logan held her son. Gently. Protectively.

Lovingly.

He leaned down, giving her a gentle kiss. "I'm gonna go to bed, too. Your dad wants to leave early."

"I'll be in in a little while," she whispered.

"No rush," he promised with a quick smile.

She turned onto her side while he and Max exchanged goodnights, noticing the way Logan hesitated as if he wanted a little something more. She also noticed that Max gave another, softer, goodnight right before Logan turned to leave, and met his gaze when he settled next to her again as the door clicked shut.

"What?" he murmured.

"My boyfriend's boyfriend."

His cheeks turned pink. "I'm not… He's… It's not that."

"I don't know, you did fly halfway around the world to see him," she teased, giggling when he threw his arm over her waist and dragged her close.

"Careful, schatje, you're starting to sound jealous," he murmured against her lips.

"Of my boyfriends dating each other? Never." She felt his arm tighten around her and didn't mind when he pulled her closer.

"Not dating," he breathed.

"Flirting?" She shifted even closer, moaning softly as his leg slid between hers.

The muscles in his thigh twitched and he hummed, his kiss deepening briefly. "Maybe… Is… Is that okay?"

"Figuring it out," she reminded him.

"Figuring it out," he echoed before kissing her again. His hand came up, cradling her jaw as their bodies moved, and she didn't want it to stop, didn't want either of them to pull away. To her relief he didn't. His fingers tangled gently in her hair, his other hand trailing down her side.

She moved, thighs falling open so he could press closer while her hands slipped beneath the hem of his t-shirt, the feel of his skin beneath her fingers exhilarating and comforting as she traced the planes of his back. "Max," she breathed, one hand cupping the back of his head. This was the time when one of them pulled back and she parted her lips to beg him not to.

Then he whispered her name like it was a prayer. A plea.

Nodding, she leaned up for another kiss, body arching into his touch. His fingertips ignited a flame in her skin and she gasped against his lips, sitting up with him, reluctantly breaking the kiss so he could ease her tank top over her head. Eyes locked with his, she carefully pushed his t-shirt up. There was a brief pause once his shirt joined hers on the floor then he was kissing her again.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he mumbled after guiding her down and leaning back to stare at her.

Flushed with desire under his heated gaze, she licked her lips, shivering as his hand swept up her arm. His fingers danced over her collarbone then moved lower and she arched again, nipples hardening before he stroked the curve of her breast. His soft moan was pure sex and she brought her hands up to his neck, eager for his kiss.

He lowered his mouth to her breast instead. Kissing, licking, suckling gently until whines began to claw up her throat. He released her nipple and immediately turned to give the other the same treatment, his fingers lightly pinching and rolling the stiff peak to keep her squirming.

"Max," she gasped, an aching hunger forming deep inside her.

His lips were over hers in an instant, his hands moving to rest lightly at her hips, steadying her. His kiss was almost frenzied, his grip tightening each time she wriggled impatiently, and when her fingers dragged down to the waistband of his boxer briefs he let out a guttural moan. "I was planning to take my time," he mumbled, thumbs lightly stroking her hips before hooking in the band of her shorts.

"We can do that next time."

He groaned, nipping at her bottom lip. Then he was leaning back again, dragging her shorts and panties down, and she watched his tongue dart over his lips while he looked her over. "You really are beautiful, schatje," he whispered, palms brushing up her legs, fingers dancing lightly along her thighs. Her lips parted to speak but all that came out was a gasping moan when he cupped her. He stroked and teased, eyes wild and dark, until she could feel his fingers were slick, until she was trembling, and then—

"Max," she whined, hips pushing upwards and head falling back as his fingers rubbed small circles against her clit. She clutched at his sides, his forearms, and finally gripped the sheets, fingers twisting in the soft cotton while his fingers continued the delicious torment. So caught up in the pleasure, it didn't register that he was moving until he guided one leg over his shoulder. His breath was pure fire, his tongue molten lava replacing his fingers.

She forced her head upright, breath catching in her throat when she was met with his intense gaze. He rubbed and squeezed her thigh, moaning occasionally, his tongue dancing rapidly over her clit. Her last shred of self-control reminded her she couldn't be loud and she clapped a hand over her mouth to muffle her sharp squeal. Her other hand dropped, curling tightly in his hair, and she was rewarded with a low growl from him, his hands splaying on her thighs as his tongue danced faster.

Her eyes widened and she nodded, holding her hand tightly over her mouth as her entire body burned, feeling weak with need. She moaned raggedly against her palm, heart racing in her chest. Pulling away her hand long enough to gasp out a new plea. "Don't stop…"

She felt him smirk and barely turned her head to stifle her sharp squeal with the pillow. Already close, she let her hips rock slowly, trying to focus on all the sensations and not just his tongue. His fingers digging into her thighs. The muscles of his back flexing beneath her foot. The scruff of his beard scraping her sensitive flesh. His breath pouring over her like a steaming waterfall. She squealed again then snatched in a breath and held it, back arching off the bed as she came, the pleasure so intense she could only let out a shaky, whining gasp.

He hummed, his tongue easing slightly, dragging out the delight, and when her body shuddered he slowed, his moan vibrating through her as he gently licked her clean. With a breathless chuckle he pressed kisses to her trembling thighs then crawled up, hands tender on her cheeks.

Y/n murmured his name, cupping his wrists and relishing the moment of tenderness as he stayed over her, the heat of his body calming her shivers. Tasting herself on his lips and tongue, she groaned softly, tongue darting out for a deeper taste while her hands slowly traveled down.

"I don't have a condom," he groaned, dropping his forehead to her shoulder.

She did but they were across the hall, and she knew that if she made that mad dash one of her family members would suddenly appear and ask her what the hell she was doing. Her mind scrambled, fingers frozen just above his boxer briefs then she licked her lips. "I'm on the pill, and you can pull out?"

Max released a questioning hum. "Are you sure?"

"I want – I need you," she breathed.

With a groan he lifted his head, eyes searching hers for a moment before he shifted, hands reaching to help her push his boxer briefs down. His soft hiss as her hand wrapped around his cock was more erotic than any other sound she could imagine in that moment and she hummed encouragingly, exploring the length and girth with her fingers. Until his hand covered hers and he moaned harshly against her lip, "I won't make it inside you if you keep doing that."

A giggle bubbled up her throat, dying on a whine as he settled more firmly between her thighs. His hand trembled slightly over hers then grabbed at her thigh, their breathless gasps mingling as she guided him along her slit. She wanted to draw it out until they were both begging but her desire won out and she moved her hand to his hip, nails digging into his skin as he pressed into her.

"Fuck," she moaned, hips rolling up to meet him.

His eyes were more intense than ever before and she felt the shudder ripple through his body while he kept still for several long seconds. "Y/n…"

It was a delicate mix of longing and need. She returned it with an eager nod, grabbing his shoulders to hold onto him as the slowness and gentleness melted away.

Frantic. Pure lust with dashes of tenderness. Each time her lips parted to make a sound his claimed them, muffling and swallowing each noise. The heat consumed her, and he was there, grounding her with his firm hold, his thrusts steady and unfaltering.

"So good," she gasped, lifting her leg higher against his waist.

"I know, I know," he moaned as he hooked his arm beneath her leg, angling her hips slightly.

The scant change sent the tip of his cock directly over her spot and she threw back her head, nails raking down his back and eliciting a sharp hiss from him. "Yes…"

"Right there, schatje?" he whispered, nuzzling her neck before dragging his lips over her jaw, smearing the sweat beading on her skin.

"Yes," she whined again, turning her head for his kiss. He tasted of sweat and sex and heaven and she whimpered against his tongue as ecstasy grew within her again. She could feel his thrusts falter and clenched around him, teeth sinking gently into his bottom lip. "Gonna come," she gasped, a harsh moan escaping when he suddenly released her leg, his hands fisting in the pillow on either side of her head. He pushed deeper than before, panting against her lips and she screamed into his kiss as the orgasm crashed through her. Her legs wrapped tight around him, pulling him deeper, and as she began to come down from the high he suddenly pulled out, leaving her gasping and missing the fullness. Looking up at him through heavy-lidded eyes as he sat back, she shivered, watching his hand wrap around his length, squeezing and stroking wildly.

"Where do you want it?" he asked in a breathless moan.

Her mind was blank, barely able to remember her own name, but when he released a strained groan she finally found the words. "Stomach," she managed to whisper.

He shifted, hand working fast and urgent and she stared in a haze of awe and longing at the way the muscles of his arm rippled and strained as he released a deep groan that made her tremble. The heat of his release splashed across her stomach in thick bursts.

Panting, she reached for him as soon as the last drops splattered over her hip, leaning up to meet his lips in a breathless kiss. He nearly collapsed over her and she could feel the thrumming of his heart against her breast. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, body craving the heat of his, and held onto him until he moved to slump next to her.

Chuckling, still breathless, his skin flushed and sweaty. He pulled her into his arms, lips bumping her forehead before he leaned away long enough to grab his discarded shirt. "Okay?" he whispered, using the shirt to wipe the cum from her skin.

Y/n hummed, still trembling with the aftershocks as he balled up the shirt and dropped it to the floor. Curling close, she nestled her head in the curve of his shoulder. "Yeah," she murmured. "Better than okay."

Max let out a soft hum. "Better?"

She nodded, her hand sliding to rest over his heart. "Perfect."

please like/comment/reblog <3 fill out the form to be added to the taglist, and my inbox is always open if you want to yap about any of my writings <3

Taglist: @driverlando | @maxlarens | @landinhoe | @snoopyracing | @captainreecejames | @leodette | @spiderbeam | @trisharee | @forzalando | @littlegrapejuice | @lilypat | @manicpixiemom | @spookystitchery | @halleest | @lyannesworld | @llando4norris | @kravitzwhore | @younxii | @silentreader128 | @samantha-chicago | @mrsbrxkkxr | @cmleitora | @jasons-little-princess | @toldyouitwasamelodrama | @aundercoverosh | @kiwi43-81 | @awritingtree | @voidsfics | @misartymis | @goldenchemistry | @colmathgames2 | @elliotts1one | @lovin-fangirl | @czennieszn | @a-beaverhausen | @vicurious28 | @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp | @mcmuppet | @eveninggstar | @pucksandpower | @scorpiomindfuck | @larastark3107 | @classychalamet | @mavies-stuff | @asparklysoul | @irishmanwhore | @skeleton-elly | @bookishnerd1132 | @fallingforyouforeverr | @bxuzi | @lorena-02 | @monkeysimonkeydo | @discoseal | @racew1nn3rs | @ally-cat-20 | @landoslutmeout | @miralunaela | @am-i-ok-no | @ficsfordays | @imboredway2much | @ethereal0810 | @petrifying-risotto | @brokenmirrors-7 | @yukimaniac | @2pagenumb | @annispamz

[formulafics]

★ LONG WAY HOME | LS2

scenario: while visiting his girlfriend abroad, logan decides to soft launch their relationship, catching everyone off guard. (requested)

pairing: logan sargeant x fem!reader

A/N: i love seeing people request for logan - i love him. also i hope you guys aren’t annoyed at the american jokes with him LMAO i mean no harm i just think it’s silly and a fun thing to throw in

requests open for smau’s | check pinned for more info!

logan sargeant and yn.ln

liked by alex_albon, landonorris, williamsracing, oscarpiastri, and 106, 234 others

logan sargeant visiting my girl

view all 2,321 comments

sargeantsenna YOUR GIRL? rue, when was this?

yn.ln ily. you can’t leave, i already miss you

⤷ logansargeant the offer for you to come to the race with me is still open babe

logandefender this was not on my bingo card for today, logan. the last picture 💔

f1zone i just looked at yn’s account and she’s so pretty bro 😭

⤷ landomania I KNOW. i stalked her account after he tagged her in his story the other day 😭 theyre so cute

⤷ sargeantone DUDE it just hit me that he was flying to her. i’m sick to my stomach rn

liked by logansargeant, landonorris, alex_albon, and 2,431 others

yn.ln zandvoort yesterday, florida today, and texas roadhouse rn. taking me back, except this time, the boy i met here is my date.

@/logansargeant ❤️

view all 724 comments

yourfriend WHERE IS MY INVITE?

[dantefreakdaaaa]

Your love sick Johnny au made me flashback to MK 11 past!Johnny when he’s looking longingly and lovingly at Sonya as she walks away… except it’s for the reader lmaoooo I’m so excited!

Ls!Johnny Cage x reader

romantic || gn reader

A/n: yeah but instead of staring hes fucking frothing at the mouth trying not to bark cus he's fucking insane /j also I'm writing this now because I LOVE THIS AU

CW: johnny being obsessive but it's not too bad, it's called lovesick au for a reason

You smiled at him, gently patting his bandages up arm. He looked over at you, that same dumb smile on his face.

"Sweet moves, I'm definitely stealing those for Timequake." You laughed and smiled before walking away, a longing look on his face as he watched you. God, he needed you so bad. Every single part of his body craved you, needed you. 'Say something! Say something they're walking away! Say something!' he screamed at himself internally. He sucked in a breath before finally working up the courage to say something to you.

"How about, dinner sometime... Y'know, to thank you for saving my life? And... To apologize for being, uh- well me..." You turned around, smiling as you walked back to him. That smile drove him wild, one of his favorite parts about you. Everytime you smiled it just made him so happy. A soft smile on his face as you walked back towards him, staring at you lovingly as you came closer.

"Patience is a virtue, Johnny." You patted his arm again before walking off. He just fucking needed you so bad.

---

Tired but wanted to get something done, love this au

[triplefrontierbabe]

I don't know you anymore

summary: your first time seeing him after the breakup

pairing: Logan Sargeant x f! reader (Kyle Kirkwood's younger sister)

warning: angst, hurt, language

a/n: part of a multi-part series In This Life?

part one | part three | part four

Early September 2024

So, you moved back to Florida into your parents house. And for months everyone tiptoed around you— Kyle most of all. 

Before Logan was your boyfriend, he was Kyle’s best friend. And despite where you stood with Logan, you would be remiss to let that stand in the way of your brother’s friendship. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Kyle asked time and time again, ever since he heard about the breakup and your move back home. 

“That’s a loaded question, Ky.” You responded. “Like, presently—at this moment— no, but I know I will be okay eventually.” 

“Well, you know I’m here for you, sis,” Kyle began “we all are.” 

You sat in silence for a moment, because you knew Kyle wanted to address the elephant in the room but he didn’t want to overstep. 

“Okay, let’s just rip the bandaid off.” You said to which Kyle took a sharp breath at. 

“Just because all this happened, I don’t want your friendship with him to change. I hope you know that.” 

“I don’t want that to hurt you. If you don’t want me to, I won’t hang out with him.” Kyle offered, trying to be as supportive as possible. 

“Kyle, I couldn’t even imagine asking you to do that, he’s your best friend.” You retorted. 

Since you and Kyle were the closest in age out of all your siblings, for years your friend groups were all meshed together. His friends were yours, and yours his. Asking him to stop hanging out with one of his closest friends would be incredibly selfish of you— although it felt like a little salt in the wound. Nevertheless, you reassured your brother that what you wanted was for everything to carry on the way that it always had. 

And so things did; they carried on. 

It was only a matter of a couple weeks until you saw Logan again, completely by accident. 

It was your brother’s last race of the season and it was in Nashville and who were you to turn down a fun time on Broadway? 

As part of the race weekend activities, Andretti hosted a casual cocktail party full of drivers, team personnel, family, friends, sponsors and so on and so forth. 

You, Vicky and Riley were chatting it up at a table when Vicky stopped talking mid sentence, her eyes darting behind you. Riley straightened her posture before giving Vicky a knowing look. 

He saw you first—rather he heard you first. He knew you’d be here, why wouldn’t you? He heard your laugh from across the room and it seemed that all of the air in the room had been sucked out, leaving the presence of you two in the crowded room alone. 

He did the best he could to avoid being in your vicinity but it was a battle lost once Colton pulled him towards a table to talk. A table conveniently placed a few feet from you. 

You looked fine. Fine, but different. He had seen you make appearances here and there on your mutual friends’ social medias but this was the first he had seen you in person post-breakup. To him however, there was a part of you he didn’t recognize. It was like you were a whole new person, on a new path that was moving forward while he was still stuck in the past. 

“What? Do I have food on my face?” You asked, looking at the two women across from you. 

“No,” Vicky started as she walked around the table to stand by you. “Um- he’s at the table behind us.” She said the last part in a hushed tone. 

That was enough for you to freeze and for the hairs on the back of your neck to stand up. 

Shit. 

You didn’t dare turn your head to look his way, especially since you knew his eyes were on you. 

The rest of the night you stayed close to Vicky and Riley, doing your best to not meet Logan’s burning gaze. You were doing so well until you were left alone at the table for a moment while the girls went to grab a drink. You scanned the room to act like you were occupied. 

As you gazed around the room you accidentally met his gaze. 

There was no familiarity or warmth in your eyes when you looked at him. For the first time he saw how empty you were which he knew was a mirrored image of himself. 

For years you’d shared so much life together but there was none of that anymore. The two of you were no longer the versions of yourselves you had respectively fallen in love with.

He desperately wanted to cry out to you and try to make amends. He knew that day in August, he fucked up, big time. There was so much he left unsaid and he thought– he wished– whatever those words were could’ve been enough to make you stay. Yet, what’s good can’t ever last. But, was what you two had ever good?

F1 Masterlist | Indycar Masterlist

taglist: @bernelflo @ifyouaintfirstyourelastt @f1updates4you @r0nnsblog @meglovesmclaren

[hopefulwonderlandrunaway]

WIP FIC REC 🚨🥹

I just have to take a moment before the weekend to shout out three absolutely amazing WIPs that have completely taken over my mind (and heart). These authors are crafting something so special, and if you’re not already following their work, this is your sign!

Maybe It's Time

Mari_Marie @littlemissmarianna

With a Gun and a Pack of Sandwiches

ellay_gee @ellay-gee

And another honourable mention - a new writer, who’s already showing so much heart and promise. It’s such a joy to see new voices join the community - please check out their work and give them all the encouragement and love they deserve!

AO3 impackinapiece @davilovesty

An actual footage of me waiting for updates 👇