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pairing: sirius x reader | 0.7k words
plot: calling your boyfriend a whore wasn't the smartest thing to do, considering you're a bloodthristy slytherin.
prompt: "is that blood? don't worry it's not mine. That's supposed to reassure me?"
authors note: hope u like it :)
navigation
They were staring, of course. You brought a hand to your nose, which sat throbbing and probably bloody in the middle of your face. A sour look now on your face.
Your throbbing collarbone irritated you a tiny bit more. With a quick glance you looked at your hands, bloody and dirty. Though they were in that state for a good fucking reason.
“Black’s a total slut though.”
“I know, I bet he’ll dump that slytherin soon enough.” the other nodded her head. You stared at the two, mouth in a straight line. The anger gradually built in your chest as you listened to the girls some more. You had promised Sirius, no fights. Oh, how hard it was to keep that promise right now.
“I might just go for him mys-” she had no chance to finish her sentence as you had made your way over to the two Ravenclaws. With a quick motion you grabbed the back of her head, blonde curls in your balled fist as you yanked her off the bank.
Her body fell to the floor as the girl next to her shrieked, other students watched with wide eyes.
“You wanna say that again?” you barked. You were never someone to just watch and listen. You were someone who beat the shit out of people.
“You crazy bitch.” she yelled out as without thinking, your fist connected with her face.
“Oh, I’ll show you what a crazy bitch i am, you fuckin’ cunt.” your hands grabbed her head and slammed it down with as much strength as you were able to produce. With a grunt she kicked at you, catching you off guard. She was on top of you and quickly punched you in the nose.
“Not my fault your boyfriend’s a whore.”
You saw red as you brought your elbow to her head and with a yell you brought your knee to her stomach. You got up and kicked her a few more times, there she laid, limb and heaving.
“Call him a whore one more time, I dare you.”
She coughed as you leaned over her, a hand held her face. Cheeks squished between your bloody fingers.
“Keep his name out of your filthy mouth.” you spoke, voice deep. Before you left her you took a breath and spat in her face.
“Bitch.” you whispered.
You made your way to the Gryffindor table, gasping and whispering audible.
“Yo, isn’t that your girl? James spoke, a finger pointed at you.
Sirius’ head whipped to your approaching form, eyes wide. You gave him a small smile as you sat yourself down between the two. Lily and Remus, who sat in front of you, didn’t speak.
“Is that blood?” Sirius spoke, holding your hand in his. You chuckled and took the napkin which laid in front of him.
“Don’t worry, it’s not mine.”
The liquid from his cup made its way down your throat, easing the scratchy feeling. Sirius took the napkin from your hands and began to wipe the blood on your face.
“Is that supposed to reassure me?” he spoke. “What happened?” Moony asked, a hand held out with a piece of chocolate for you to take. With a small smile you accepted.
“Some Ravenclaws thought it was a good idea to call my boyfriend names.” Sirius sighed and took a closer look at your nose. “Baby, we talked about this.” he paused and scrunched his eyebrows together as he looked at you.
“There’s no need-”Don’t think for a moment that I won't defend you and I was kind of angry anyway.” you took a bite of the chocolate and raised your hand to stroke his cheek.
“To defend your honor was just a bonus, pretty boy.”
Sirius just chuckled and gave your bruised nose a tap. “Ow!” you whined as you slapped his shoulder shortly after.
“Let’s go to Madam Pomfrey’s, that is definitely broken.”
“You pretty little minx.” He planted a kiss on your cheek as he took your hand in his. “Thank you for defending my honor, love.” you smiled and planted a kiss on his lips.
“Always.”
Just as you two walked off you could hear James talk to Lily.
the one where Blaise notices the Malfoy signet ring on your finger.
send draco requests.
-
The air smells like a combination of Draco and yourself, but mostly Draco - notes of citrus overlaid with the scent of tea and smoky wood. His sheets are cool against the surface of your skin, a sensation which lends a sharp contrast to the warmth of his bare chest against your cheek. You can feel one of his hands tracing patterns onto the skin of your back, as he other hand fiddles absently with your fingers which you have splayed out across his chest, a lazy post-coital haze surrounding you both.
“Who knew the Draco Malfoy would be one for cuddling,” you say teasingly your fingers tugging lightly on the long slender digits which are still tangled with yours. This isn’t the first time you’ve been here, your naked form flush against Draco’s in the same bed in which he had you legs hooked over his shoulder, his name a litany on your lips just mere moments ago.
“I’m not,” he scoffs with a roll of his eyes, as he manages to squeeze your fingers in his, a subtle battle for dominance among you both.
“Alright then,” you say both suddenly and with a calculated carelessness as you push your hands, fingers still tangled in his against his chest as you make a move to sit up. The covers slip easily down your skin with no clothes to act as friction. It exposes you, your nipples hardening upon contact with the cool air. You’e barely managed to get up when you feel the arm wrapped around you shift, fingers pressing more firmly into your hip to pull you back down.
“Where do you think you’re going,” Draco questions. He keeps his tone indifferent but the arm which has tightened around your body tells a different story.
“I’m sure Theo likes to cuddle,” you express matter of factly, keeping your expression innocent and it earns you an icy gaze from the blonde, cool grey boring in you. Draco observes you for almost a full minute before speaking.
“I’m sure he does not,” is what he finally says as a retort, his tone more disgruntled this time.
You open your mouth to disagree only to feel your back pressed flat into the mattress, Draco’s body now covering yours, his movements swift. You see the glint in his eyes as he lowers his head towards yours.
“Draco,” you breathe his name out. He doesn’t respond but presses his lips to yours. His hands find yours, fingers tangling together, pinning your hands above your head. You kiss him back, teeth nipping his lip lightly which earns your a low growl from the back of his throat. You can feel Draco hardening, his length pressed against your stomach. Your almost miss it with the competing sensations overtaking your body - lips, hands, skin, but your brain manages to register the feeling of Draco slipping cool metal from the signet ring on his last finger onto your index.
-
“Well, well, well - look who decided to join us,” Blaise calls out too cheerily, taking in the sight of you and Draco walking into the small sitting room in what had come to be Draco’s side of the Malfoy manor.
“It is surprising that I’m joining you in the sitting room of the Malfoy manor,” comes Draco’s reply which earns a good natured chortle from Theo and an eye roll from Pansy.
“Well, you can’t blame us for thinking that you two would be,” Blaise pauses for dramatic effect, “…otherwise occupied.” His unsaid words clear.
As with the rest, you and Draco had been childhood friends. However, years of tension that neither of you had acted upon had only cumulated more recently, and with Pansy’s blessing, into this, whatever it was. You both hadn’t yet spoken about it, the touching, sleepovers, sex, and there had been no outward proclamations to the world at large that either of you was anything other than single, and yet - it was no secret among anyone who knew either of you that you were both very unavailable.
“You mean book club?” You managed to keep a straight face as you question Blaise too innocently. It earns you a smirk from Draco and an amused chuckle from Pansy, your joke clear as you stop by the table facing the floor to ceiling windows which they are sitting by.
You reach across the table for a handful of blueberries from a bowl beside Theo’s elbow when you feel Blaise grab your wrist lightly, his fingers curling around, as he holds your wrist up in triumph, brandishing it around. You place your free hand flat down on the surface of the table, stabilising yourself as you lean forward into Blaise’s pull.
“I didn’t know book club members were all given the Malfoy signet ring,” he grins wildly at the discovery. The group’s gaze flickers to Draco’s hand, noticing the lack of the ring, usually a mainstay, on his the last finger of his left hand.
“If I join book club could I get one too?” Theo quips cheekily as you feel your cheeks start to heat both at your current plight as well as with recollection of what had been a subtle act of possessive on Draco’s part earlier.
“Zabini,” Draco says, tone still even as he reaches over, his hand curling around your forearm, tugging you out of Blaise’s grip, while ignoring Theo, “if she’s wearing the Malfoy signet ring don’t you think you should think twice before manhandling her?”
“Is she yours Draco,” Pansy adds to the chaos, an equally wide smirk on her face as Blaise lets your wrist slip out from his hold with ease while throwing you a wink.
“If you thought otherwise then you lot must be more dim than I thought ,” is all Draco says as he sits down. He lets you drop onto the chair beside him before reaching over to pull the piece of furniture and you closer to his side, the drag of it on the floor audible.
It earns him a whoop from Blaise, two hands throw up in the air from Theo as he yells “finally”, and a laugh from Pansy who blows a kiss at you.
Draco slides his arm across the back of the chair, before looking at you brows lifted slightly, but his question is clear, you’ve never spoke about this and Draco wants to know - are you okay with this?
“I am,” you say as you lean forward to press your lips briefly against his. It only causes a louder ruckus at the table.
giggling, squealing + kicking my feet in the air for this!!
it’s the “i’m sure he does not”, “if you thought otherwise than you lot must be more dim than I thought” and the “if she’s wearing the Malfoy signet ring don’t you think you should think twice before manhandling her?” for me 🫠🫠
☄︎ Warnings: each chapter will have their own but overall - Angst (love hurts!), slow burn (ish), fluff, reader being blind af, i don't have a proofreader, idk my tenses so i flip flop
☄︎ Pairing: f!Reader x John Logan (past), f!Reader x Dean Di Laurentis (main)
☄︎ Rating: PG (1-4, 6); Smut mention (5)
☄︎ Words: 21.9k
☄︎ AN: This was born from this post. I saw it and my mind immediately started racing. The respose to the first one posted was amazing, so I've turned this into a series. Thank you so soo much for all the wonderful comments and engagement.
pretty please continue to share thoughts xx
Main Masterlist
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Contents:
1 I've Got You (#1) 〣 Read here 〣 2.8k 〣 24.05.2026
2 I've Got You (#2) 〣 Read here 〣 4.6k 〣 28.05.2026
3 I've Got You (#3) 〣 Read here 〣 7k 〣 05.06.2026
4 I've Got You (#4) 〣 Read here 〣 3.3k 〣 07.06.2026
5 I've Got You (#5) 〣 Read here 〣 3.2k 〣 24.06.2026
6 I've Got You (#6) 〣 Read here 〣 0.7k 〣 04.07.2026
Please respond to this post or send an ask to be added to ,or removed from, the current taglist for this series.
Or like you had shot a gaggle of puppies in front of him.
"Say that again for me, babe?" Buck questions, hoping that he had misheard or that you would change your statement once you realize the ridiculousness of it.
"We can't have sex until our wedding night." You confirm, going back to preparing dinner.
"Our wedding night is in three weeks." Buck states slowly, as if you didn't know or have it circled with a heart in every calendar in the house.
You roll your eyes at Buck, turning to face your back to him so you could focus on shredding cheese for tacos. "Well aware, honey. It would just be so much more special for us to wait those measly three weeks, though."
Buck's eyes drift down at your butt, almost like they had their own gravitational pull, and sighs longingly. It was going to be a long few weeks.
Buck wakes up on a Saturday, content and relaxed. He's spooning you, his arm on your stomach under your sleep shirt, and his downstairs neighbour is very happy behind you.
Buck presses a kiss onto your cheek, and feels you smile awake under his lips. You turn around to face him fully on your side, pressing your mouths fully together.
Mouths still attached, Buck tugs you towards him, hands caressing your back. Those very hands dip underneath the waistband of your shorts and underwear, when you detach from Buck's face.
"Nuh-uh." You shake your head and shuffle away from Buck.
Buck who had been fixated on your glistening, pink mouth, doesn't understand. "Huh? What nuh-uh?"
"There's still two weeks. No hanky-panky until then."
"Who says hanky-panky anymore?"
"Your future wife." You grin cheekily.
Buck groan-laughs and watches you get up for the day, completely smitten and fond. His neighbour downstairs was still very much awake and excited. Poor guy needed to prepare to be blue for a little while longer.
"Can we just do hanky without the panky?" He calls out as you enter the bathroom.
Your resounding laughter is the only response he gets.
One week remains until the wedding, and Buck was barely hanging on. It has gotten to the point where he was getting hard just breathing the same air as you. Which, to be fair, is pretty much Buck's baseline around you.
For example, right now, you were inconspicuously drinking a strawberry smoothie, scrolling on TikTok. However, your lips were wrapped around the straw in a way that had Buck obsessed, drooling from his place across the kitchen.
"One more week." You say matter-of-factly, eyes not lifting from your phone.
Buck huffs an amused laugh. Seven days couldn't pass quick enough.
Until finally, it was the night. Your wedding day was exceptional, no notes. Buck had teared up watching you walk down the aisle to him. The two of you had laughed and sobbed through wedding speeches, fed each other an amazing wedding cake that Eddie had ordered through his connections (Linda was most clearly his connection) and danced with every member of the 118. Every one of your guests were now straggling home, stomachs full of food and champagne and good memories.
The two of you sat in the backseat of a nice, vintage car that was taking you both to a fancy hotel near the wedding venue that Athena kindly sprung for.
You rest your head on Buck's shoulder, fingers with a newly adorned wedding band tangling with his. "How was your first wedding day?"
"10 out of 10. Looking forward to the finale." Buck waggles his eyebrows.
You throw your head back in laughter, but tug him out of the car once it's parked in front of the hotel.
The elevator ride to your floor is charged, the tension thick and heavy in the metal box. You and Buck stand at opposite ends, staring at each other with something like wonder - that this day had finally come, that the two of you have joined lives officially in the eyes of the law - but also hunger. Buck looked ready to eat you alive, and you couldn't wait to be served to him on a silver platter.
The elevator dings to signal that the two of you had arrived to the floor, and before you can step forward, you're scooped into Buck's arms, one arm under your legs, and one to support your back. A bridal carry.
You giggle, giddy that you now share this beautiful man's last name, as Buck fumbles with the key card while still trying to hold you upright with one arm. You take the card from him, and scan it flawlessly in one-go. The two of you stumble into the room, and Buck gently drops you onto the middle of the mattress while he hovers over you.
"Hi." He smiles broadly.
"Hi." You grin, just as brightly.
"I'm glad I married you."
"Likewise."
Buck captures your lips again, and his hands start roaming gently. His fingers still under your wedding dress, tracing lettering on your underwear.
He ducks underneath your dress to see - and sure enough, on white satin underwear, was "just married" in tasteful black lettering. Buck's eyes darken possessively, only a sliver of blue visible in blown out pupils.
AN: I will be taking requests for Garrett, Dean, and Logan at this time!
Warnings: Mentions of Sex and Alcohol Consumption
Dean Di Laurentis x Reader
It wasn’t crazy to feel a little insecure over your boyfriend’s ex. Right? At least that’s what you told yourself.
“Let’s go Dean!” Beau whooped from beside you.
“Dude chill, he’s literally warming up.” You say, rolling your eyes at your boyfriend’s best friend.
“And he’s doing it beautifully.” Beau says nudging your shoulder playfully. Dean skates over to the plexiglass waving happily. Beau being Beau decides to blow your boyfriend some kisses. Dean being Dean pretends to catch them causing you to laugh.
“Hey I am so sorry we’re late, thank you for saving us seats!” Hannah says, plopping down next to you in her seat. Beside her Allie sits, offering you a little wave and smile. You smile back.
“No problem, I’m just glad I’m not forced to endure Beau alone the entire game.” You say with a laugh. Hannah and Allie both laugh and so does the guy currently sitting next to Allie.
“Oh shit,” Allie says. “Y/N, Beau, this is Sean my boyfriend.” She says. Sean gives us an awkward wave.
“I think we had Speech together freshman year?” You say. It was a small class and Sean was not a very good public speaker.
“Oh yeah, uh L/N, right?” Sean asks. Allie smiles, watching your small interaction. You nod.
“So, you’re Beau’s girlfriend?” He asks. Beside you Beau chokes on his water.
“Oh dear God.” Hannah mutters with a laugh. You slap Beau on the shoulder as he recovers from his near death experience.
“Um no. I’m Dean’s girlfriend.” You say, avoiding Allie’s gaze. Yeah this was awkward. What were you supposed to say, um no actually I’m Dean’s girlfriend. Yeah Dean, the same Dean your girlfriend hooked up with last year for the two months you were broken up and had hot casual sex with.
Sean looks physically taken back.
“Di Laurentis?” Sean asks.
“The one and only.” Beau pipes in. Sean looks at Allie for a brief second, before giving you a polite smile.
“That explains the jersey, I guess.” Sean says. You laugh, desperate for the game to start.
Dean had begged you to wear his away jersey but now looking at Allie you were wishing you would’ve worn something a little cuter especially considering the party that was bound to end up happening back at the hockey house as you affectionately referred to the house your boyfriend, Garrett, Logan, and Tucker shared.
The game passes by rather uneventful, the Hawks are absolutely smoking the visiting team. At the second intermission of the game you find yourself totally in your head.
“I’m going to go get some popcorn anyone want anything?” Hannah asks standing up.
“Ooh I’ll come with you, Sean, baby you coming?” Allie says standing up and batting her lashes at her boyfriend. Sean grins up at her, obviously under the spell of Allie Hayes.
“Yeah.” He tells her standing up as well.
“Beau, Y/N you guys want anything?” Hannah asks.
“I’m good thanks though!” You say.
“Same here.” Beau says. You wait a second until they’re up in the stands a little.
Across the rink Allie laughed at something Sean said, tipping her head back. Of course she looked good doing that too.
“You okay?” Beau asked.
“Fine.”
“Liar.” Beau says.
You watched Allie steal a handful of Sean’s popcorn.
“Can I ask you something?” You ask. Beau nods.
“Is Allie hotter than me?” You ask turning to Beau with a serious question. Beau stares at you stunned.
“Like don’t bullshit me, she’s gorgeous, and she and Dean hooked up and probably had a bunch of hot freaky sex and it’s just weird for me because she’s like still around, and she’s Hannah’s best friend and she’s so nice. Like she’s a nice person and she’s freaking gorgeous and she’s fucked my boyfriend. And don’t start on me I know he’s fucked at least a quarter of the women in this ice rink but still.” You ramble, pausing only to catch your breath. “I’m just like not as hot as she is, or as outgoing as she is, I’m a nursing major for goodness sake, she’s like headed to broadway.” You go on.
“I’m going to stop you right there, because you’re acting fucking delusional right now.” Beau says matter of factly. You stare at him unaware of what he’s getting at.
“First of all Dean is obsessed with you.” Beau starts. “Like sickeningly obsessed with you.”
“And yeah Y/N you’re just as hot if not hotter than Allie.” He says. “And I say that as your boyfriend’s best friend.” He adds.
“I know Dean has been kind of wild in the past but you’ve got him locked down so, whatever hot crazy sex you two are having it must be doing it for him.” Beau says with a shrug of his shoulders. You blush. “Oh come on, I’ve literally walked in on the two of you more times than I can count.” He says.
“But he like loves you, ya know.” Beau adds. You grin and nod.
“Yeah I know he does.” You say with a small smile.
Down the aisle you hear, some commotion as Hannah, Allie, and Sean make their way back to their seats.
“What did we miss?” Hannah says happily tossing a piece of popcorn in her mouth.
“Not much.” Beau offers with a shrug.
The Hawks win as usual and you find yourself walking to wait outside of the locker rooms with Hannah.
“This doesn’t make us puck bunnies right?” Hannah asks you feigning seriousness. You laugh.
“No I’m pretty sure monogamy isn’t their style.” You say with a laugh. Hannah laughs too as Garrett emerges from the locker room, Dean right behind him.
“Ladies and gentlemen look at my gorgeous girlfriend.” Dean says upon seeing you. “And look,” he begins grabbing your shoulders and spinning you around so your back is facing Garrett and Hannah. “Whose name is on her jersey.” He finishes, showing off you wearing his jersey Vana White style.
“Yes, yes, your name is on my jersey, well your jersey. Your name is on the jersey that’s on my body.” You say confusingly trying to clarify. Dean grins at you. Hannah and Garrett laugh.
“Malone’s?” Garrett asks.
“Hell yeah, I’m starving.” Logan calls, him and Tucker emerging from the locker room.
“Beau, Allie, and Sean are headed there now to grab a booth!” Hannah exclaims. “It’s karaoke night too!” She says excitedly, Garrett smiles at her clearly smitten.
When you get to Malone’s plenty of people are already celebrating the win. Beau waves us over and you and Dean slip in the booth beside him.
“My man, excellent work out there tonight. I mean you killed it.” Beau says to Dean. Dean pretends to be embarrassed batting his eyes at his best friend. Logan comes over with a tray of shots, and Jules tags behind him.
“Okay I need people who can actually entertain. Hannah, Allie, I’m putting you both down.” They say. Jules looks at me.
“Y/N I’m putting you down too, hot girls equal more donations.” They say.
“Hell yeah.” Dean says, he pulls out his wallet and hands Jules a twenty.
“What exactly are we raising money for?” You ask.
“This week it’s the animal shelter.” She points to Dean. “Seeing as you have a golden retriever of your own I figure you’d love to help our cause.” She says before walking away.
“Jules wait!” Allie calls, downing a shot from Logan. “I’m ready!” She says excitedly. She turns to Sean giving him a smile and a double thumbs up before going to the small stage and putting in her request. You down a shot, passing Dean one.
“Fuck Logan, what is this shit?” You ask, nearly choking.
“Vodka.” He says with a shrug.
“Like bottom shelf or what? That is not Tito’s.” You say.
“Well I didn’t really specify.” He admits, taking a shot himself and grimacing.
On the small stage Allie stands, she fixes her hair before the opening bars of a Whitney Houston song begin.
“I should have known this would be the song of choice.” Sean tells Hannah. “We watched The Bodyguard last night.” Hannah laughs as Allie sings I Have Nothing by Whitney Houston.
“Oh for fucks sake, this song is like five minutes long.” Beau mumbles before somehow managing to climb over Dean and me and get out of the booth. “I need a drink.” He exclaims.
“Ooh Beau will you order me a pina colada?” Hannah asks. He nods, taking the card Garrett produces from his wallet as Hannah fumbles in her purse.
You watch as Allie pours her soul into the song. She’s so confident. You’d need two more shots just to get up there. You grab the shot you’d slid to Dean, taking it for yourself and tossing it back before grabbing another one off of the tray and doing the same.
“Easy tiger, marathon not a sprint.” Dean says.
“I’m about to do karaoke in front of a bar full of people, I need to be very drunk baby.” you say, giving him a kiss to distract him as you reach for another shot. You down it, and finally Allie’s song comes to an end.
“Y/N, you go next I’m still trying to decide what I want to sing!” Hannah says scrolling through her Spotify.
“You gonna drink that?” You ask motioning at the untouched shot of vodka in front of her. She laughs.
“No, go for it!” She says, just as Beau returns with her pina colada and a beer. Beau sits her drink down and hands Garret back his card. You down Hannah’s shot as Allie comes back to her seat beside Sean and Hannah.
“Okay, I think I’m ready.” You say dramatically. You look at the shot in front of Garrett and point to it. He slides it to you much to Dean’s protest.
“Dude. She’s going to be so hungover tomorrow.” He says. Knowing very well that you’ll ask him why he let you drink this much.
“Babe you’ve got to slow down or drink some water or something.” Dean says a hint of concern in his voice. You get up, albeit a little wobbly from the alcohol and find Jules to take the stage.
“Is something going on that I don’t know about?” Dean asks Beau before looking to Hannah and Allie.
“She seemed fine at the game, maybe she just wants to get drunk and have fun tonight.” Allie offers. Beau avoids Dean’s gaze.
“Yeah she seemed totally fine, she told me she did really good on that exam she was worried about so that’s good! She’s probably celebrating.” Hannah offers taking another sip of her drink.
“Okay next up is Y/N L/N!” Jules says before handing you the mic.
You could sing you just had to be drunk to do it, otherwise the stage freight was all consuming. The song you chose begins to play and Dean smiles.
“Olivia Rodrigo, she loves Olivia Rodrigo.” Dean says proudly. Beau nearly dies as he hears the opening of the song. You’ve chosen Obsessed by Olivia Rodrigo. A song about being obsessed with your partners ex.
“Oh fuck…” Beau mumbles.
“I’m surprised she didn’t pick All-American Bitch, that’s her favorite.” Dean tells the table.
“If I told you how much I think about her you’d think I was in love.”
You sing perfectly, feeling the alcohol buzzing through your system.
“Oh fuck…” Beau mumbles again. Dean looks at him confused.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Why do you keep saying that?” Dean asks.
Hannah glances between them.
“Wait.” She says as your voice sings the next part of the song.
“Cause I know her star sign, I know her blood type I’ve seen every movie she's been in and, oh god, she's beautiful And I know you loved her, and I know I'm butthurt But I can't help it, no, I can't help it”
Beau closes his eyes. Hannah’s eyes widen. Allie gives her a confused look as the two of them have a silent conversation. Allie’s lips form the shape of an o as realization dawns on her.
“Oh.” Hannah says looking at Beau and then to Allie. Garrett looks up from his beer staring at Dean who still hasn’t gotten it yet.
“What?” Sean asks.
“I'm so obsessed with your ex I know she's been asleep on my side of your bed and I can feel it I'm starin' at her like I wanna get hurt And I remember every detail you have ever told me So be careful, baby”
You’re having a great time, dancing on stage as people cheer you on.
“She’s got those lips, she’s got those hips, the life of every fuckin’ party…”
Hannah buries her face in Garrett’s shoulder.
“Oh my God.” Hannah wheezes.
“What?” Sean asks for the second time. Dean frowns, still not catching on.
“Why is everyone acting weird?” He asks. Beau stares at him.
“You seriously still don’t get it?”
“Get what?”
On stage you were having the time of your life.
You pointed dramatically into the crowd as you sang.
“She even speaks kindly about me and I know you love me, and I know it’s crazy”
Allie shakes her head.
“Guys it’s not, it’s not , that.” She says, emphasizing that. Allie looks to Dean and then back to Beau whose facial expression says otherwise.
“Oh no.” Allie says. Dean looks to Allie and then to Beau and then to Hannah before looking back to the stage. Realization finally dawning. His eyes widen.
“No fucking way.” Dean says.
“Welcome to the party.” Beau said, taking a long drink of his beer. Dean looks horrified.
“She’s singing about…about my ex?” He asks, looking at Allie before quickly looking to Sean.
Sean rolls his eyes. “About Allie, yeah.”
“Congratulations, detective.” Beau says, patting Dean on the shoulder. Garrett laughs, quickly stopping as Hannah give him a look.
“It took you that long?” He asks. Dean glares at him.
“How was I supposed to know she felt that way?” Dean asks innocently. Allie and Hannah grimace. Beau rolls his eyes.
“It’s obviously been bothering her for a minute she literally asked me if Allie was hotter than her at the game. Respectfully you’re both equally hot.” Beau says winking at Allie. Dean stares at Beau.
“Fuck.” Dean mumbles. He watches you on stage having fun as you finish up the song. The entire bar applauds as you exit the stage, with a little help from Jules. You giggle making your way back to your seat stumbling a little.
“Fuck, she’s drunk.” Dean says softly.
“Groundbreaking observation Di Laurentis.” Garrett says.
“No asshole like she’s really drunk.” Dean says.
As if on cue you walk directly toward the booth. Except you completely miss the opening. You walk straight into the end of it. The table burst into laughter. You stare at the booth. The booth stares back. You point at the booth.
“That wasn’t there a minute ago.” You say, hands on your hips. Dean laughs despite himself.
“Come here, baby.” He says.
You immediately climb into his lap. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“That was fun!” You say. Beau facepalms.
“Was I good?” You ask the table. Everyone stares at you for a minute before answering. Everyone says yes giving you words of encouragement seeing as you’re blissfully unaware of the awkward energy your song selection has caused.
“Yeah really good actually!” Allie says. You beam. The alcohol making you feel great at the moment anyway.
“Really?” You ask
“Yeah really.” Allie says with a laugh. “First of all, you can actually sing.” You point at her dramatically.
“You sang Whitney Houston.” You say. “You’re like headed to Broadway.” You say, your words starting to slur a bit.
“Okay and?” She says smiling at you.
“You were incredible.” You say, reaching out to grab her hand.
“Thank you.” Allie says with a laugh squeezing your hand. “But so were you.” You narrow your eyes suspiciously.
“Are you making fun of me?” You ask.
“No.” She says. “You’re just really drunk right now babe.” She smiles.
“Second of all.” Allie begins still holding your hand across the table. Dean presses a kiss to your shoulder and you smile, leaning your head back against him.
“Oh God.” Beau mumbles.
“No, because apparently this needs to be said.” Allie says.
You pull your hand to cover your face. Embarrassment as you realize everyone knows your song choice was directed to her.
“Please don’t.” You say.
“Girl, look at you.” She exclaims. You blink.
“What?” You ask.
“Look at you.” Allie repeats. You look down at yourself, squeezed into the booth with Dean and Beau and nearly sitting on Dean’s lap.
“I’m wearing a hockey jersey.” You say.
“Exactly.” She says. You stare at her. She stares back.
“Y/N, you’re drunk off your ass, wearing your boyfriend’s jersey, your hair still somehow looks perfect, and you look like you stepped off a runway.” Your entire face turns red.
“No I don’t.” You say shaking your head with a laugh.
“No seriously.” Allie exclaims.
“Please stop.” You beg.
“No.”
The entire table is laughing now. Allie points at Dean.
“That man has spent the entire night looking at you like you’re the greatest thing that’s ever happened to him.”
Dean immediately nods.
“True.” Dean says.
“Thank you, Dean.” Allie says gesturing to Dean.
“Happy to help.” He says. You hide your face in his shoulder.
“This is humiliating.” You slur.
“Good.” Allie says.
“How is this good?” You ask.
“Because you’ve spent the entire night comparing yourself to me.” She says softly. The table goes quiet. You peek up at her.
“I wasn’t—” you start. But you were, you’d even asked Beau if she was hotter than you.
“Bullshit.” Allie says. “Beau ratted your ass out.” Hannah immediately starts laughing.
“Language.” Sean says.
“Oh please.” Allie says rolling her eyes at him, before kissing his cheek. Allie points at you.
“You’re gorgeous.” She says. You groan.
“Stop.” You say.
“No.” She retorts.
“You have to stop.” You say shaking your head.
“I actually don’t.” She says in a sing song voice.
“ALLIE.”
“Y/N.”
The two of you stare at each other. Finally Allie sighs.
“Look, you guys are perfect together. Just like Sean and I are perfect together.” She says. “And I don’t want you feeling that way about yourself ever because you’re fucking hot.” She exclaims.
“Hell yeah you are baby.” Dean says, pressing a kiss to your temple.
Later that night you snuggle up against Dean in his bed, your makeup washed off and your head pounding just enough to remind you that six shots had, in fact, been a terrible idea. Dean lies on his back staring at the ceiling.
“You sang a song about my ex in front of like fifty people.”
You groan and pull the duvet over your face.
“Don’t remind me.” You say weakly.
“I’m just making sure that actually happened.” Dean says, pulling the duvet over his head too.
“Maybe it didn’t and this is all just a weird dream.” You say closing your eyes.
“It absolutely happened.” Dean says laughing.
“It was karaoke.” You say.
“It was a cry for help.” Dean retorts. You roll your eyes. You smack his chest beneath the blanket. Dean laughs and catches your wrist.
“Baby.” He says softly.
“What?” You ask voice barely above a whisper.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He says, his brows furrowed slightly in concern.You look away. Because saying it out loud sounds ridiculous now.
“I don’t know.” You admit.
“Baby.” He says. You sigh. Here you go.
“Because she’s pretty.” You say. Dean stares at you.
“That’s your reason?” He asks.
You glare at him.
“Don’t.” You say.
“I’m serious.” He pushes himself up on one elbow.
“That’s what all this was about?”
You shrug.
“She’s gorgeous, Dean.” You offer.
“So are you.”
“She’s talented.”
“So are you.”
“She’s outgoing.”
“And you somehow got on a stage and sang Olivia Rodrigo in front of an entire bar.”
“I was drunk.”
“You still did it.”
You roll your eyes. Dean reaches over and tucks a piece of hair behind your ear.
“Babe, look at me.” Reluctantly, you do.
“I never dated Allie.” He says, and logically you know that. The ex she was was really just like an ex fling or hookup. She’d never been his actual girlfriend.
You nod. “I know.”
“I never loved Allie.” He says softly.
Your stomach twists. You feel horrible.
“I know.” You say.
“I love you.” Dean says with a smile.
The words come so easily from him that it makes your chest ache.
“I know.” You say softly. Dean shakes his head.
“No. I don’t think you do.” He says. You blink.
“What?”
“Because if you knew how obsessed I am with you, you wouldn’t have spent the whole day worried about some girl I hooked up with for a couple months.” He says.
A laugh escapes you.
“Obsessed?” You ask raising your brow at him.
“Violently.” He says playfully, doing a little playful bite at you. You snort. Dean nods seriously.
“Ask anybody.” He says.
“Anybody?” You repeat.
“Garrett.” Dean offers.
“Biased.” You retort.
“Logan.” He says.
“Worse.” You add.
“Beau.” Dean settles on. You both pause.
“Actually Beau definitely thinks you’re obsessed with me.” You say. Dean points at you.
“Exactly.” He says with a smile. You laugh, finally relaxing. Dean smiles.
“There she is.” He grins, pulling you against him and burying his face in your hair.
“What?” You ask.
“My girl.” He breathes, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
The simple certainty in his voice makes your eyes sting unexpectedly.
“You know,” Dean says thoughtfully, “for the record.”
“What?” You ask.
“I liked your performance.”
You groan.
“Dean.” You say trying to sound serious.
“I’m serious.” He says.
“It was humiliating.” You exclaim. You bury your face in his chest.
“I can never see those people again.” You say resigned to your fate.
“That’s okay.” Dean says. “More for me.”
You laugh, it would all be fine. And despite the embarrassment, despite the hangover waiting for you tomorrow morning, despite the fact that everyone in Malone’s now knew entirely too much about your insecurities, you think maybe that’s okay too.
The boys are just sick of the PDA between you and Dean. They’re happy to see their friend in love, but sometimes it’s just too much
I didn't give this one a second read, but I hope it's okay
Summary: Dean wakes up to you making pancakes for the house. Breakfast turns into making out in the kitchen…and Logan and Tucker are not having it
Warnings: making out, soft!Dean,
—
Sunday mornings were for sleeping in…and pancakes.
After celebrating last night’s win with a bit too much alcohol, you decided to whip up some pancakes for the hockey boys still sleeping.
The house was unusually quiet, except for the sizzle of butter hitting the pan and the soft clink of bowls and measuring cups. Sunlight spilled through the windows, warming the countertops while pouring the first round of batter into a pan.
The remnants from the party were all over the kitchen and living room. Empty bottles of beer on every surface. Red cups on the pool table from playing beer pong. And even a pair of panties. People really had no shame…
You cleaned just enough of the kitchen to have some space to cook and chose to ignore the rest. That was not your mess to clean.
The stack of golden pancakes was slowly growing beside the stove. Some of them had blueberries, which you found in the mostly empty fridge, for variety…and because they were Dean’s favorites.
Speaking of Dean, a pair of strong arms slid around your waist from behind. His bare chest was warm against your back and his voice rough from sleep. ‘’You escaped.’’
‘’I'm making breakfast,’’ you said, flipping a pancake.
He buried his face in your neck and kissed under your jaw as his hands travelled under your — his — shirt, rubbing circles on your hips. ‘’With blueberries?’’
You hummed.
‘’I love you.’’
You laughed softly. ‘’Because of the pancakes?’’
Dean pressed another slow kiss to your neck, this one softer and lingering, and then turned his head just enough to peek over your shoulder at the pancake flipping like a pro chef. ‘’Among other things.’’ He gave your thigh a light smack.
The smell of something cooking had been the thing that finally pulled him out of bed. That, and the absence of his beautiful girl beside him. It was as if he had felt the cold sheets on your side of the bed, the absence of a warm body curled against his chest.
His arms tightened around you as he watched that perfect flip, the pancake landing smooth back into the pan like magic. ‘’You’re too good at everything,’’ he murmured, voice still thick with sleep but full of affection anyway. ‘’Cooking…riding my dick…being hot while cooking.’’
You laughed at his antics, shifting your head to give him a kiss.
‘’Can you make coffee, baby?’’ you asked, adding the pancake to the pile. ‘’I couldn’t find the bag of coffee grounds.’’
Reluctantly, Dean moved and got the coffee started. Someone must have moved it when they were snuffing through the cupboards last night.
You focused on the next pancake. The plate you had put them on made it look like you were feeding a whole army. You had never seen this many pancakes. They’ll be gone in ten minutes once Logan, Tucker and Garrett wake up.
‘’Dean…’’ you chastised as his arms slid around your waist again and he pulled you against him.
‘’What?’’ he asked innocently, resting his chin on your shoulder.
You tried — and failed — not to smile.
‘’I need to finish the pancakes.’’
He pressed a kiss to your cheek, his blond hair tickling your face, then your jaw.
‘’Dean.’’
A third one, this time right below your ear.
You laughed and nudged him with your elbow. ‘’Sorry. I’m just so hungry.’’
‘’Sit and eat, then. I don’t need your help finishing up.’’
Without warning, he pulled you against him, pressing the front of his boxers to your ass. ‘’Not just for pancakes.’’
Deciding to play his game, you leaned back into him and moved, slow and deliberate. The heat between you flared instantly, blood rushing to his cock. It was so easy to get him worked up.
Dean let out a low groan and turned off the stove before spinning you in his arms and backing you against the counter. He stepped between your legs, effectively trapping you there without putting any real weight against you, and you rose onto your toes to kiss him.
Kissing escalated into making out. His hands slid up your thighs beneath his shirt, then lifted you with ease to set you down on the counter beside a few empty cups and a stale beer. You locked your legs around his waist, fingernails digging into the thick skin of his back as his hands wandered further up until they reached your breasts.
As if on cue, Logan shuffled into the kitchen wearing sweatpants and a hoodie, took one look at you and Dean, and groaned. ‘’Jesus Christ. It's ten in the morning.’’
Close behind, Tucker came down, his curly hair stuck up in every direction and he looked like he regretted every drink he'd had the night before. ‘’Not on my kitchen counter! Dean! Come on, bro…’’
ᯓᡣ𐭩 𝖺 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗂 𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌!
ᯓᡣ𐭩 oscar piastri x writer!reader
ᯓᡣ𐭩 arranged marriage, eldest daughter x eldest son
ᝰ.ᐟ After a controversy threatens the reputation of Oscar Piastri, a carefully staged marriage to a sponsor’s daughter is meant to restore his image, nothing more than a strategic fix in the high-stakes world of Formula One, but as their perfectly crafted relationship begins to feel all too real behind closed doors, the line between performance and genuine love starts to blur, and they’re forced to confront whether what they have was ever just for show.
Synopsis: You get exhausted at the club and curl into Lando’s side. He takes you home, defends you when a jealous girl insults you, then reassures you in the car that he loves you and nothing she said matters.
Moonlight Radio: the original request is a the bottom as it was another long one 😅
You knew the night was going to be a stretch the moment you stepped out of the car. The club lights were already spilling onto the pavement, the bass thumping through the walls like a warning. Normally you could tolerate nights out — even enjoy them when you were in the right mood — but after the week you’d had? You were running on fumes and stubbornness alone.
Still, you’d come. Because your friends wanted to go. Because Lando had been excited. Because you didn’t want to be the one who dragged the energy down.
Inside, the music swallowed everything. People danced, shouted, laughed. Drinks clinked. The air smelled like perfume and sweat and neon.
You tried. You really did.
You had one drink, let yourself be pulled into the group’s circle on the dance floor, swayed to the beat even though your body felt heavy. You laughed when someone made a joke, smiled when Lando spun you around, tried to pretend your eyelids weren’t already begging for mercy.
But eventually the exhaustion won.
You slipped away from the dance floor and back to the booth, sinking into the seat with a sigh you didn’t mean to let out. A moment later, Lando slid in beside you, still slightly breathless from dancing.
His arm draped around your shoulders instantly, like muscle memory.
“You okay, love?” he asked, voice low and warm against your ear.
You nodded, leaning into him. “Just tired.”
He pressed a kiss to your temple, lingering there. “You look like you’re about to fall asleep sitting up.”
“I’m not,” you mumbled, even as your head found his shoulder and stayed there.
He chuckled softly. “You are. And you’re cute when you try to deny it.”
You didn’t answer — mostly because you were too busy trying not to drift off. His thumb stroked your arm in slow, soothing circles, and the club noise faded into a distant hum. Every few minutes he kissed your hair, your forehead, your cheek, like he couldn’t help himself.
You could feel him watching you. Protective. Soft. Completely gone for you.
After a while, he tilted his head down, brushing his nose against your cheek. “Do you want to go home?”
You didn’t even pretend this time. “Please.”
He smiled — that gentle, private smile he only ever gave you. “Alright. Let’s get you out of here.”
You gathered your things while he stood and told the group you were heading out. Most of them waved or shouted something over the music.
And then she spoke.
The girl who had been circling Lando long before you came into the picture. The one he’d rejected — repeatedly — but who still acted like she had some unspoken claim to him.
“Oh my god, seriously?” she scoffed, loud enough for half the table to hear. “You’re leaving already? She’s such a buzzkill. Lando, you used to be fun before you started dating her.”
You froze.
Pietra’s head snapped around. “Do you want me to—”
You shot her a look. A quiet, pleading don’t. You didn’t want a scene. You didn’t want drama. You just wanted to go home.
But Lando… Lando wasn’t built to let someone talk about you like that.
He turned to the girl, jaw tight, eyes sharp. “Don’t talk about her like that.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m just saying—”
“No,” he cut in, voice firm enough to silence the entire booth. “You don’t get to say anything about her. She didn’t ruin anything. She didn’t make me leave. I want to go because she’s tired and I care about her.”
The girl blinked, stunned.
Lando wasn’t done.
“And if you think I’m less ‘fun’ because I actually love someone? That’s your problem. Not hers.”
The table went quiet.
He didn’t wait for her to respond. He took your hand — lacing your fingers together like he needed the contact — and led you out of the club without looking back.
---
The moment you were in the car, he turned to you. Both hands came up to cradle your face, thumbs brushing your cheeks like he was checking you were okay.
“Hey,” he whispered. “Look at me.”
You did.
“Nothing she said is true,” he said, voice soft but fierce. “Not one word.”
Your throat tightened.
“You didn’t ruin anything. You didn’t make me leave. I wanted to go because you’re tired and I love you. I love you so much.”
He kissed your forehead. Your nose. Your cheeks. Your jaw. Every inch of your face he could reach.
“You’re the best thing in my life,” he murmured between kisses. “You make everything better. You make me better.”
You couldn’t help it — you smiled.
“There she is,” he said softly, kissing the corner of your mouth. “There’s my girl.”
He took your hand again, threading your fingers together and squeezing like he never planned to let go.
And he didn’t.
Not for the entire drive home.
Original Request:
“can you do one where you and lando and with friends at a club. You had a pretty busy and tiring week and even though clubs are not really your thing and all you wanted was to get in bed you still went. You had just a drink and laughed and tried to dance and have fun but at some point you went back to the booth and stayed in Lando’s side. He draped his arm around your shoulders and you lean your head on his shoulder and tried so hard not to sleep. He kisses your head and just talks to you and kisses you and after a while he asks you if you want to go home as he sees you are way too tired. You guys sit up and take your stuff and he tells everyone you will be leaving and a girl in the group who has wanted Lando for so long but he rejected her a few times before he got with you, start to say that you are no fun and ruined the party and Lando used to be more fun before meeting you and so much more. Pietra wanted to say smth to her but you throw her a look to stop it as you didn’t want to make a scene. Lando gets angry and doesn’t shut up and stood up for you and is so protective over you and you left after it. In the car he takes your head between his hands and tries to reassure you that nothing she said is true and that he loves you sm and you are the best thing for him and he kisses you all over the face making you smile and he doesn’t let your hand go on all the way home. Thank you sm 🫶🏻🥹”
Can u pls write a fiction with charles where he looses a race just like the one u did with lando
Thank u xx
After Monaco | C.L 16
Summary: After losing his home race, Charles comes home furious, restless, and desperate to forget, and you become the only thing capable of distracting him.
Synopsis: You get exhausted at the club and curl into Lando’s side. He takes you home, defends you when a jealous girl insults you, then reassures you in the car that he loves you and nothing she said matters.
Moonlight Radio: the original request is a the bottom as it was another long one 😅
You knew the night was going to be a stretch the moment you stepped out of the car. The club lights were already spilling onto the pavement, the bass thumping through the walls like a warning. Normally you could tolerate nights out — even enjoy them when you were in the right mood — but after the week you’d had? You were running on fumes and stubbornness alone.
Still, you’d come. Because your friends wanted to go. Because Lando had been excited. Because you didn’t want to be the one who dragged the energy down.
Inside, the music swallowed everything. People danced, shouted, laughed. Drinks clinked. The air smelled like perfume and sweat and neon.
You tried. You really did.
You had one drink, let yourself be pulled into the group’s circle on the dance floor, swayed to the beat even though your body felt heavy. You laughed when someone made a joke, smiled when Lando spun you around, tried to pretend your eyelids weren’t already begging for mercy.
But eventually the exhaustion won.
You slipped away from the dance floor and back to the booth, sinking into the seat with a sigh you didn’t mean to let out. A moment later, Lando slid in beside you, still slightly breathless from dancing.
His arm draped around your shoulders instantly, like muscle memory.
“You okay, love?” he asked, voice low and warm against your ear.
You nodded, leaning into him. “Just tired.”
He pressed a kiss to your temple, lingering there. “You look like you’re about to fall asleep sitting up.”
“I’m not,” you mumbled, even as your head found his shoulder and stayed there.
He chuckled softly. “You are. And you’re cute when you try to deny it.”
You didn’t answer — mostly because you were too busy trying not to drift off. His thumb stroked your arm in slow, soothing circles, and the club noise faded into a distant hum. Every few minutes he kissed your hair, your forehead, your cheek, like he couldn’t help himself.
You could feel him watching you. Protective. Soft. Completely gone for you.
After a while, he tilted his head down, brushing his nose against your cheek. “Do you want to go home?”
You didn’t even pretend this time. “Please.”
He smiled — that gentle, private smile he only ever gave you. “Alright. Let’s get you out of here.”
You gathered your things while he stood and told the group you were heading out. Most of them waved or shouted something over the music.
And then she spoke.
The girl who had been circling Lando long before you came into the picture. The one he’d rejected — repeatedly — but who still acted like she had some unspoken claim to him.
“Oh my god, seriously?” she scoffed, loud enough for half the table to hear. “You’re leaving already? She’s such a buzzkill. Lando, you used to be fun before you started dating her.”
You froze.
Pietra’s head snapped around. “Do you want me to—”
You shot her a look. A quiet, pleading don’t. You didn’t want a scene. You didn’t want drama. You just wanted to go home.
But Lando… Lando wasn’t built to let someone talk about you like that.
He turned to the girl, jaw tight, eyes sharp. “Don’t talk about her like that.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m just saying—”
“No,” he cut in, voice firm enough to silence the entire booth. “You don’t get to say anything about her. She didn’t ruin anything. She didn’t make me leave. I want to go because she’s tired and I care about her.”
The girl blinked, stunned.
Lando wasn’t done.
“And if you think I’m less ‘fun’ because I actually love someone? That’s your problem. Not hers.”
The table went quiet.
He didn’t wait for her to respond. He took your hand — lacing your fingers together like he needed the contact — and led you out of the club without looking back.
---
The moment you were in the car, he turned to you. Both hands came up to cradle your face, thumbs brushing your cheeks like he was checking you were okay.
“Hey,” he whispered. “Look at me.”
You did.
“Nothing she said is true,” he said, voice soft but fierce. “Not one word.”
Your throat tightened.
“You didn’t ruin anything. You didn’t make me leave. I wanted to go because you’re tired and I love you. I love you so much.”
He kissed your forehead. Your nose. Your cheeks. Your jaw. Every inch of your face he could reach.
“You’re the best thing in my life,” he murmured between kisses. “You make everything better. You make me better.”
You couldn’t help it — you smiled.
“There she is,” he said softly, kissing the corner of your mouth. “There’s my girl.”
He took your hand again, threading your fingers together and squeezing like he never planned to let go.
And he didn’t.
Not for the entire drive home.
Original Request:
“can you do one where you and lando and with friends at a club. You had a pretty busy and tiring week and even though clubs are not really your thing and all you wanted was to get in bed you still went. You had just a drink and laughed and tried to dance and have fun but at some point you went back to the booth and stayed in Lando’s side. He draped his arm around your shoulders and you lean your head on his shoulder and tried so hard not to sleep. He kisses your head and just talks to you and kisses you and after a while he asks you if you want to go home as he sees you are way too tired. You guys sit up and take your stuff and he tells everyone you will be leaving and a girl in the group who has wanted Lando for so long but he rejected her a few times before he got with you, start to say that you are no fun and ruined the party and Lando used to be more fun before meeting you and so much more. Pietra wanted to say smth to her but you throw her a look to stop it as you didn’t want to make a scene. Lando gets angry and doesn’t shut up and stood up for you and is so protective over you and you left after it. In the car he takes your head between his hands and tries to reassure you that nothing she said is true and that he loves you sm and you are the best thing for him and he kisses you all over the face making you smile and he doesn’t let your hand go on all the way home. Thank you sm 🫶🏻🥹”
Set in the Bestie Au but can be read as a stand alone
Pairing — Lando Norris x afab!Reader
Summary — With your girlfriend revealing something groundshattering in the most heartbreaking way possible, you know things are over. How will your survive race weekend now...
Genre — hurt/comfort, best friends to lovers in the future au
Wordcount — 2.1k
Warnings — language, tell me if i missed sumn else
Technically you should have known that something wasn’t right as soon as you got out of the train at the airport. Alone being the important factor here.
It wasn’t that you never went to the airport alone, no. You often did when you traveled to Lando’s races and with this being the last Europe one of the season, and thus the last one you could be joining before Abu Dhabi, you definitely took the chance to do so.
With work it wasn’t easy to go to many races. Mostly those in Europe and moat of the time you even missed the Friday sessions because you only managed to take flights after work was over.
But this time you shouldn’t have been alone. Because Maya would be coming with.
Come over on Thursday, spend the night with her, work, have her pick you up and drive to the Nice. That was the plan until a few weeks ago. When you had last been at her place. Since then it was either at your and Lando’s place, a restaurant or somewhere else. Just not her apartment.
You hadn’t questioned it as your girlfriends behavior otherwise hadn’t changed much. Sure she was tired more then before, but Maya had said it was due to an increase in workload and not to worry about her followed by a kiss that left you grasping for sanity.
With check-in having been done online the previous night and traveling only with hand luggage, the plan however had changed to meeting inside the Terminal.
Maya was already waving from across the Terminal, ticket in her hand.
“Have I ever mentioned how much I don’t like people?” you groaned after fighting your way through families and travelers all trying to find their way through the airport.
Maya laughed. “Maybe once or twice,”
You didn’t miss out on how the usual hello kiss didn’t come but didn’t mention it.
“Yeah well it is a valid thing to feel when everyone is constantly standing in the way, shoving at me or yelling into their phone. Never mind the screeching 6 year old that was mad at mommy for not handing him a cookie.”
You shrugged and Maya chuckled.
Lacing your finger with hers you slipped out of the big foyer, following the signs to where the pointed to Security.
The closer you got, the tighter Maya’s grip around your hand became, almost as if she was trying to memorize the feeling.
You glanced at her but she only offered a small smile before looking away again, her eyes fixed on the security gates ahead.
“Everything okay?” you asked, slowing your pace slightly.
“Yeah,” she answered far too quickly. “Just tired.”
You hummed, unconvinced but willing to let it go for now, and squeezed her hand back reassuringly.
The line moved steadily forward until you were both standing in front of the security entrance, tickets ready and bags slung over your shoulders.
With you being waved through and Maya pulled away to do an extra swipe test, you took the moment to just look at her with a dumb little smile.
“What are you smiling at like this?” she asked with her head tilted, eyebrow raised a questioning smile on her lips.
“Just… nothing,” you hummed soft at her. Pressing a lingering kiss to her cheek. Maya leaned in, enjoying the moment for a second to long before leading you away.
You checked your ticket on your phone and the seating chart.
“Maybe we should have just booked the flight together… Where are you sitting? Maybe we’ll still be sitting close to each other!” you muttered.
Quicker then Maya could react you snatched the Ticket from her and froze when you read what was written on it. Slowly you looked up and into her sorry eyes.
“Why does this say Washington D.C?
Stammering a bit before taking a big breath Maya choked out the words no partner ever wanted to hear. “I need to talk to you…”
“Baby,” you laughed nervously, waiting for her to smile and tell you it was a joke, “why do you have a ticket to Washington and not Italy?”
She swallowed hard, tears already gathering in her eyes.
“Remember how I told you about this promotion? What I didn’t know was that it was a position in the US…” Maya released a shaky exhale. “A permanent one…”
Abrupt you pulled your hand out of hers and against your chest as you took a step back. It felt like someone had knocked the air straight out of your lungs and your knees suddenly felt weak. Like they were going to give out under you.
“Please say something,” the other woman whispered into the heavy silence between you.
You didn’t know what to say.
That this was the most fucked up shit anyone has ever pulled on you? Or did she want to hear that it was okay? That you were okay with her up and leaving?
“How long have you known?” you breathed weakly, tears burning in your eyes as you looked at the airport floor.
Maya swallowed hard. “About a month…”
A month. A month ago was when you had last been at her place. A month ago was when she had started to look so tired.
“A month. You the plan was what, to show up here tell me you were going to the restroom and in reality you’re boarding your own flight?”
Panic struck Maya.
“No, no of course not! I just— I wanted—”
You looked up quickly, devastated glare piercing her chest as she could only watch the tears falling.
“You wanted what?” you interrupted quickly.
“I didn’t want to lose you!” Maya cried, taking a desperate step forward only for you to take another one back.
“Well, you failed.” You stated bitter. “Long distance wouldn’t even be an issue. Fuck mine and Lando’s friendship is long distance most of the time and we are doing just fine. But you lied. Not just about the move. And you played me and I can’t forgive that.”
Trying again to get closer, her face crumbled when you shook your head at her, stopping her in her tracks.
You could feel the stares of other passengers watching the drama unfold.
“I love you,” she whispered desperately, tears streaming down her cheeks. “God, Y/N, I love you so much.”
A broken laugh escaped you as you wiped angrily at your own eyes. “You don’t do this to people you love, Maya.”
The boarding call for your flight echoed through the terminal, loud and cruel, cutting straight through the silence that followed.
You wiped your face with the sleeve of your hoodie and forced yourself to look at her one last time, memorizing something you didn’t want to remember.
“Have a safe flight, Maya.”
Then you turned toward the gate, walking away even as her voice broke behind you, saying your name one last time as if that would make you stop.
You felt sick and all you wanted was to hide at home under your blankets.
Moving to your gate more or less on autopilot you numbly wiped at your eyes to get rid of the wetness and look bit more put together.
The pitying look of the flight attendant checking your online ticket told you enough.
Falling into your seat, your phone vibrated once.
I’m sorry received 5:34 pm by Maya
Blocked.
Once the plane set down in Milan your heart had miserably tried gluing itself together. At least enough to pretend you were okay to survive the weekend.
Lando would most likely still be at the track which was proven right when you arrived at the Hilton, McLaren staff slowly trickling in into the lobby just as you were handed your keycard.
Where are youuuuuu? received 8:13pm
Room 1628 but I’m going to bed. See you at breakfast? sent 8:16pm
Oh sure you good? Received 8:16pm
Just tired sent 8:18pm
Until the next morning you hid in your room.
Tired, eyes red and with a headache from crying you dragged yourself to breakfast where Lando, Oscar and Lily were already sitting.
“Morning,” you said lightly as you slid into the seat, forcing a small smile that felt as wrong as it probably looked.
Lando looked up immediately, his face softening as his eyes scanned yours a little too carefully.
“You look rough,” Oscar commented bluntly, earning a quiet elbow from Lily under the table.
“Thanks,” you snorted, reaching for a croissant you didn’t really want but needed to do something with your hands.
Lando’s eyes lingered on you trying to figure out the exactly what was wrong, but you just kept chewing and avoided it.
“So, where’s Maya? I though we’d finally get to meet her?” Lily asked sweet as ever as you were alone.
Chewing slower you swallowed the bite down, looked up gave a force smile and explained that something had come up last minute..
It wasn’t necessarily a lie.
The weekend somehow flew and dragged on all at once.
You were quite. Far to quiet for Lando and Lily’s liking but both quickly understood that you didn’t want to talk and so they left it.
Lily stood tall next to you in the garage, almost covering you whenever the camera was pointed even remotely into your direction as if to shield you.
Lando gave you exactly until after Qualifying. Driving back to the hotel with him and Jon, you smiled at their jokes, went inside the McDonalds the driver pulled up to after Jon had allowed Lando some and even bullied Jon with your best friend.
After he directly pulled you into his room, made you sit on his bed, threw himself next to you and demanded an answer.
“Spill.”
You opened the paper bag containing your food and shrugged.
“What do you mean?”
HE sat up and stared at you. “What do you mean, what do I mean? Love do you think I’m dumb? You are hiding something and I want to know what and why,”
Lando was not amused. He hated your mopping self as much as he hated a DNF, if not more and he wanted this heavy cloud that followed you around to turn back into sunshine like yesterday.
“Nothing’s up. Really I’m just tired Lan.” You said quietly, a knot forming in your throat as you though of Maya.
“You and I both know that’s a lie.” He took the burger and curly fries you offered. “And then you show up all sad and without Maya? Pleaseee I know you better then that,”
“Yeah, apparently lying is a thing for Maya now tho.” The words slipped out faster then you could stop them and Lando stopped chewing.
“What?”
“Nothing.” You tried to redirect.
Tears filled your eyes again and your jaw trembled in an attempt to hold it together.
Of course Lando still saw it. He scrambled up, food forgotten and knelt next to you.
“Hey, hey,” Lando said immediately, his voice dropping as he knelt beside you, burger forgotten in his hand.
“What happened?” he asked, more serious now, eyes locked on your face like he could physically hold you together if he just looked hard enough.
That was all it took for your control to finally crack, tears spilling as you shook your head and tried to breathe around the knot in your throat.
“She’s leaving,” you managed to get out, voice breaking as you stared at the floor, “to Washington… she knew for a month and didn’t tell me.”
Lando went still for a second, jaw tightening as disbelief quickly turned into anger on your behalf, like he was already ready to fight someone he couldn’t even see.
Instead of saying anything reckless, he pulled you into him, arms wrapping tightly around you as you folded into his chest, finally letting yourself fall apart properly.
The sobs wrecking your body your fingers held onto the fabric of his shirt for dear life.
Lando had liked Maya. He did. She was good for you and had made you happy. That was all he really wanted from whoever was dating you.
But in this moment, Maya was added onto his personal Hitlist as number 1.
what are you, a lawyer or something? (lawyer!reader x frank langdon) - masterlist
due diligence: you’re a highly strung lawyer, he’s an emergency doctor trying to find his feet again. theoretically, your worlds should never collide. that theory holds true until a paralegal takes a tumble and you end up at the ER.
fatal flaw: when you start feeling unwell, frank manages to convince you to stop by the ER, much to his co-workers' delight.
sue me: despite knowing that you’re a lawyer, the pitt crew only really see you as the sweet girlfriend of their co-worker frank langdon. that is until a patient targets one of their own and they see a side of you that you usually save for the courtroom.
ⓘ things they do that you pretend to absolutely hate, but secretly love.
feat. lando norris, oscar piastri, charles leclerc, max verstappen ⨾ est. relationship, fluff, 1.7k wc ノ 𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞
LANDO NORRIS . ˚ You hated being in the passenger seat when Lando was driving.
Absolutely “hated” it.
Because the second you got in the car, he suddenly seemed to forget every speed limit in existence, like road signs were just optional decorations and not actual instructions meant to be followed.
“You’re doing it again,” you said, already gripping the seat a little tighter.
“Doing what?” Lando replied, far too casually for someone who was definitely up to something.
The car accelerated—on purpose, of course. Not a mistake. Just Lando deciding that normal driving speed was, in fact, deeply offensive to his character.
“Lando.”
A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. The worst kind of grin—the one that already meant he had decided to ignore whatever you were about to say.
“You know we’re not on track, right?”
“I’m aware,” he said, far too calm for someone currently treating a normal road like a qualifying lap.
“Then why are you driving like we’re fighting for pole?”
His grin only widened, like that was exactly the reaction he wanted.
And there it was. The reason.
He was showing off.
Like a twelve-year-old boy with a brand-new bicycle, desperate for someone to watch.
“You know I’m not impressed by this,” you said, trying to sound firm, even as you kept your eyes on the road ahead.
“Really?” he asked, glancing at you briefly, grin still there.
“Really.”
The car took the next corner just a little too fast—completely unnecessary, completely intentional.
You immediately grabbed the door handle.
“Lando Norris!”
He laughed under his breath, clearly enjoying himself way too much. “We’ve been dating for too long for you not to be used to my driving, baby.”
What he didn’t say—but absolutely knew—was that you were used to it. That you did think it was a little impressive. That you hated how much you secretly liked the confidence, the control, the way he made everything feel a bit too fast and a bit too exciting.
And that was the real problem. Because he knew it.
“I am used to it. I just value my life,” you said, still holding onto the door handle like it was the only thing keeping you grounded.
“Some people would kill for having an F1 driver as a chauffeur, you know,” Lando said, glancing at you with that smug little half-smile that meant he was enjoying this far too much.
You tilted your head, pretending to consider it. “Maybe I should drive next time.”
The smirk on your face made it worse.
Lando went completely still for half a second—then slowly turned his head toward you like you’d just suggested something deeply personal and deeply dangerous.
“Absolutely not,” he said immediately.
You raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”
“I value my life too,” he replied, way too quickly.
That made you laugh, because for all his confidence on the road, the idea of you behind the wheel clearly terrified him more than any corner at high speed ever could.
“Interesting,” you said softly, leaning back into the seat. “So you trust yourself with my life… but not me with yours?”
“Exactly.”
OSCAR PIASTRI . ˚ You breaking your phone should not have been a big deal.
In theory.
In reality, it absolutely was.
One second it was in your hand, the next it was slipping, hitting the floor, and lighting up one last time like it was saying goodbye before completely dying.
“No—no, no, no,” you gasped, crouching down immediately. “Are you serious right now?”
You pressed the power button. Nothing. Again. Nothing.
“Oh my God.”
Oscar looked over from where he was sitting, your panic barely registering on his face yet. “What happened?”
“My phone just died,” you said, voice rising slightly. “Like properly died. It’s gone. Everything is gone!”
“It’s fine,” he said calmly.
“It’s not fine,” you snapped instantly. “There are photos, messages, everything—this is literally my whole life.”
Oscar stood up, walked over, and gently took the phone from your hands like it wasn’t currently a disaster.
“Calm down,” he said simply. “We’ll buy a new one.”
“That’s not the point!”
He glanced at the screen, then back at you. Still completely unbothered. “It kind of is the point.”
You stared at him. “How are you so calm right now?”
Oscar shrugged slightly, like the answer was obvious. “Because it’s just a phone.”
That made you stop.
Just for a second.
Because to you, it felt like everything crashing at once. To him, it was just… a thing that broke.
He reached for your hand without making a big deal out of it, tugging you slightly closer.
“We can back it up,” he added. “Get a new one. Nothing’s actually ruined.”
You wanted to argue.
You really did.
But the longer you stood there, the more your breathing slowed to match his. The more your panic felt a little… too big for the situation.
And that was the thing with Oscar.
He never made your feelings feel stupid.
He just quietly showed you when they were bigger than reality.
Later, when you had a new phone and everything was fine again, you still thought about it.
How he didn’t panic. How he didn’t make it worse.
How he just stayed calm until you could be calm too.
And annoyingly enough…
You loved that about him.
CHARLES LECLERC . ˚ You didn’t even notice it at first.
It started small.
Harmless, almost.
You were sitting nearby when Charles was on a call with one of his sponsors, speaking in that smooth, professional tone you’d only ever hear him use in interviews.
Everything about him looked serious. Focused. Perfectly composed.
Until you heard it.
“Yeah, it’s been a busy week,” he said into the phone, nodding slightly. “Me and Y/n went to dinner after training, it was… nice.”
You blinked.
Me and Y/n?
You weren’t even part of the conversation.
You were literally just sitting there drinking water.
The call continued, and you tried to ignore it. Maybe it was a one-off thing. A slip. Nothing weird.
It wasn’t.
“Me and Y/n were in Paris last weekend actually,” he added later, like it was completely relevant to business strategy. “She loves it there, you know?” You slowly lowered your bottle.
Excuse me?
He smiled slightly at something the person said on the other end, completely unaware that your soul was leaving your body in real time.
It became a pattern.
Work interviews. Sponsor calls. Random media bits you weren’t even present for.
Somehow, everything circled back to you.
“How do you handle pressure?” “Honestly, it helps when I’m with Y/n”.
“What do you do to relax?” “Usually just spend time with Y/n.”
You finally confronted him about it one night.
“You know not every answer has to include me, right?” you said, leaning against the counter as he scrolled through his phone.
Charles looked up, confused. “Why not?”
“Because sometimes they’re asking about you.”
He frowned slightly, like that concept didn’t really compute. “But I am me and you are part of my life.”
“That’s not the point,” you muttered, trying not to smile.
But he just shrugged, completely unbothered. “It’s honest.”
And the worst part?
It was.
Because when he wasn’t talking about racing, or sponsors, or anything else in his world…
He was thinking about you anyway.
Always you.
So eventually, you stopped fighting it. You just accepted it and eventually started loving it.
MAX VERSTAPPEN . ˚ You had barely survived the week.
Emails, deadlines, mistakes you didn’t even make but somehow had to fix anyway. By Friday you were exhausted in a way that made even sitting on the couch feel like effort.
So when Max asked how it went, you just sighed.
“Bad week,” you said simply. “Everything went wrong.”
You didn’t think much of it after that.
Max nodded once, like he’d registered the information, then pulled you into his side without saying anything else.
You assumed that was the end of it.
It wasn’t.
Two days later, he came home and handed you a small box like it was nothing. No explanation. No warning. Just that calm, unreadable expression he always wore when he’d already decided something.
You opened it.
And froze.
A diamond necklace.
Not subtle. Not small. Not remotely casual.
“What is this?” you asked immediately, sitting up straight. “Max—no. This is too much.”
“It’s fine,” he said, already taking off his jacket.
“This is not fine,” you shot back, still staring at it like it might disappear if you blinked. “This is a necklace for a major life event. Not a… not a bad week at work.”
He glanced at you, completely unbothered. “You had a bad week.”
“Yes, so I get like—chocolate. Or takeout. Not… jewelry that looks like it belongs in a museum.”
Max shrugged slightly, like the scale of it made perfect sense in his world. “It’s just a necklace.”
You stared at him.
“It is not just a necklace.”
But he was already walking past you, like the conversation was done in his mind.
And that was the thing with Max.
He didn’t do small gestures when it came to you.
There was no mental scale where “bad week” sat at “reasonable comfort.”
To him, if something made you tired, annoyed, stressed—he fixed it in the biggest way possible.
Like anything less wouldn’t be enough.
You looked back down at the necklace, then toward him.
“You know,” you muttered, “normal people get flowers.”
Max paused. “Do you want flowers as well?”
You groaned, burying your face in your hands.
Because of course he would take it literally.
And of course, tomorrow there would probably be both.
You looked at him again, still holding the box like it might suddenly become less expensive if you stared at it long enough.
“Thank you, Max,” you said softly. Then, a little more serious, “I love you, but you really don’t know what to do with your money.”
Max just shrugged, completely unbothered, like that wasn’t even a problem worth solving.
“Does this mean I can buy another sim?” he asked, a faint grin forming as he leaned back against the counter.
You blinked at him.
Of course that was where his brain went.
“Absolutely not,” you said immediately, but you were already laughing despite yourself. “Not even a little bit.”
His grin widened like he’d at least tried his luck and was satisfied with the answer anyway.
— 🪷 lils speak ! hi hello!! i got inspired by few blogs on here so I decided to start writing too… so here i am! be kind to me world 🫶🏻. english is not my first language so please bear with me! see you on my next work ❤︎
FRANCO COLAPINTO x GIRLFRIEND!READER x (slight)LANDO NORRIS
summary: franco is an egocentric man, he really doesn’t care if you’re on display while he takes you apart piece by piece in his drivers room.
warnings: smut, 18+ MDNI, fingering, exhibitionism, slight voyeurism, google translated spanish, female reader, lando is basically exposed to franco finger blasting you.
authors note: idk why but I had a vision of someone fingering someone and someone cokes in and they’re just like ‘one second she’s so close’ like UGH YES!!
masterlist
franco was a flirt. he knew it. you knew it. everyone knew it.
he really didn’t have a care in the world.
and he really didn’t care about who saw the two of you.
it was a small while before the miami grand prix was to begin and franco had brought you to his drivers room. ‘a good luck kiss’ was all he wanted apparently.
god, you should’ve known better.
his hand was shoved down the front of your pants, fingers manoeuvring through your folds, almost dancing with your body.
the pad of his thumb pressed down against against your clit.
being touched by franco was the complete opposite of what most people would think.
his hands are smooth and soft, finger pads barely catching just by how smooth they are.
his thumb meeting the sensitive bundle of nerves was a different kind of pleasure, something that makes you ascend above your body.
while his thumb circled slightly around your pearl, his pointer and middle fingers glides through your folds softly.
franco’s lips were occupied with their own business. he let those soft, plump lips graze across your jaw, nose bumping against your cheek in the midst of it.
just as he delves a finger inside, franco presses a soft kiss to your jaw. “franco..” a soft whine slipped from your lips at the feeling of it all.
a smirk was the first thing you felt against you before another finger was brought to your senses as he slowly presses it inside once more.
one thing about franco, he always starts off sweet and slow. he fucks you into a state of numbness before turning slightly mean.
he’ll spread his fingers nice and slow, whispering sweet nothings into your ear while his fingers speed up to the point of white spots blurring your vision in a matter of minutes.
“déjame oírte, dulce niña..” (let me hear you, sweet girl..) he whispered into your ear, his own eyes fluttering shut at just the thought of you moaning for him.
a soft squelch could be heard faintly in the air, the small room echoing any and all noise.
as franco’s fingers sped up, your hand flew up and grabbed the back of his neck. nails scraped across his nape, tugging at his baby hairs which makes him whine softly in your ear.
“franco… franc- please.. ‘m so close-“ a moan caught in your throat when those smooth pads pressed against the spongey flesh inside, your hips writhing at the feeling.
you had teetered the point of no return, the point where nothing could stop the impending orgasm that will inevitably come along.
just as you fell off that edge, the door to franco’s drivers room opened.
now, one thing about drivers rooms are that they’re fair game to a particular driver who’s name starts with l and ends with ando norris.
“hey, franco, we’re all going to get a group pict-“ his words stopped immediately as the brit rakes his eyes over the situation in front of him.
franco’s eyes open to look at the man who had entered his room and his lovers most vulnerable moment and he just smirks.
“one moment lando, she’s so close.” he says it so gently that the words barely register in your brain, eyes too busy focusing on the inside of your eyelids as they roll back in ecstasy.
he moved his head back slightly to watch your face, ignoring the sharp tugs on the hair at his nape.
“vamos mi amor” (come on my love) he whispers sweetly, “dale un espectáculo a lando..” (give lando a show).
a soft cry spills out from your opened mouth, hips stuttering while you squeeze the life out of his fingers, “esa es una buena chica” (that’s a good girl) he whispers into your ear, encouraging you in his own sexual way.
slowly pulling his fingers out, franco admires the slick covered digits for a mere few seconds before pressing a sweet kiss to your lips.
he pulled away, “i’ll be back later mi amor..” (my love) he spoke before putting the fingers to his lips and started sucking them softly.
you had to stand there, trembling and panting while your evil, sexy boyfriend smirked and pat the other man on the shoulder before walking past him.
lando stood there for a few moments before mumbling a rushed apology and walked awkwardly out of the room.
two drivers left that room, one proud of their erection and the other trying not to make it worse by thinking about whatever the fuck he just walked in on.
so, yeah..
i think it’s safe to say franco really could not give two shades of shit about who sees his beautiful girlfriend orgasm.
💋Gillian💋Alexis Chiasson💋 @gillybear17 - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
