Tysm for the response! Here is request!
(Platonic) Rex X 11-12yr Padawan Reader
The reader is detrimentally injured during a join mission with the 501st, and bleeding out severely. They begin to have a panic attack, which only adds to the pain, and dampens everything. Rex stumbles upon them and is quick to act! However- with limited medicinal knowledge, and a panicking padawan, he can only pray Kix get here in time, and offer kind words and promises to the child.
tysm!!
-this is such an angsty prompt, I love it
-was going to give this a bad ending in tragedy, but changed my mind since I wasn't sure if you'd want that route
-enjoy and don't forget to reblog!
The icy chill of night sent shivers down your spine. If not for the growing pains in your side, you would have laughed and made a joke about spooky dancing skeletons. Stars glimmered in the navy sky, an abyss of infinity that reminded you of the pulling ache of the Force.
Stars, did your body hurt. You wondered how long you had laid in the overgrown grass for. An hour? Two? The ambush took you by surprise when it shouldn't have, threw you off balance when you should have had two feet planted firmly in the ground.
Where was your Master? Anakin promised he'd be only five miles to the east, a little ways away from the breath of civilisation. He promised to RV with you in this exact spot two hours ago, right where your squad had been massacred at the hands of Count Dooku.
The world seemed to spin the longer you stared at the black of night. Spots danced in your vision, little specs that made your empty stomach churn and gush with nausea. You heaved in a short breath, throat constricting as if a snake had wrapped around your windpipe.
No, no, it had been over two hours hadn't it? The sun set around seven thirty-eight, and the sun had already risen halfway across the sky. That meant...that meant you had been laying here in a pool of your own blood for at least three to four hours.
Were you going to die? The knife embedded in your side had viciously been ripped from your flesh the moment you attempted to run with the last of your men and your life. It was a smart decision on Dooku's account--to have Anakin Skywalker's little padawan bleed out in a field of dead bodies.
Surely, that would leave a wound upon history itself. A tear that could never be mended throughout the Order. After all, your Master was dubbed as 'The Chosen One', was he not?
A dry cough slipped past your lips and you tried not to choke on the irony flavour of blood. It trickled past your lips in little droplets, tiny beads of red that stained your skin crimson.
This was it. This was so it. Your chest began to heave, up and down, up and down. No matter how hard you wanted to trust in the Force and all your teachings instilled by the Jedi of the past, your mind could not focus on the balance resting on your shoulders.
Your breath caught in your throat and you felt it constrict where you lay in the grass, staring at the bodies around you. The only surviving men had gone off to find help with barely their lives in tact, but you feared it was too late.
The scale was sure to tip because you were bleeding out, and the pain in your side only numbed to nothing. Nothing. Oh, didn't that mean you were losing too much blood? Too much strength?
How could you even slur out a cry for help to your comm when your dry lips sealed themselves shut? The cracked skin ached just a bit, but not as much as the burning fact that death was much too near for comfort.
Your breath hitched impossibly tight. Breathe. Breathe. Why couldn't you breathe? Speak? Scream? All that filled your ears was the rush of blood and the heavy sound of your strangled cries.
You were dying. You were dying and all alone.
Master Skywalker. Oh, how you prayed for him to hear your pleas, your cries, the tears that burned your blurry vision with salty fluids. Breathe, you reminded. Breathe!
Yet no breath escaped your lips, no oxygen entered your lungs. Breathe. Breathe--
"Commander!"
A faint pair of footsteps echoed through the fog of your dulled mind. You wondered why the voice sounded so familiar, and why it called out to your heart with warmth.
"You have to stay with me!"
The panicked expression on the boy's face made your senses reel in. His name--you knew it, right? It started with an f? No, no. An 'r'. His name...his name was Rex.
You blinked languidly, a dumb sort of realisation dawning on you as you heaved and heaved. Wow, was it always this hard to think? It must be the blood and the way your throat kept closing. Or maybe the blurry dots spanning your vision as you faded into the abyss of a cold, meaningless death--
"Stay with me!" cried Rex. He lifted an arm and you vaguely registered it as his comm. A voice came from the other end, but you couldn't quite register it as he began to shout aggressively. The mixture of angry sounds, the movement of his lips, fell on deaf ears.
All you heard was the ragged sound of your strangled breathing.
It was as if the world had come to a slow stop. The rush of adrenaline, the swaying of overgrown grass, the silence of only death beside you.
"R-Rex," --you wildly met his eyes-- "h..help." A part of you almost wanted to laugh at the stupidity of such a plea.
Help?
How could he help if your throat wasn't working to deliver the oxygen to your lungs?
Help...?
How could he help when he wasn't a medic?
Much less Kix?
You continued to heave, tears blurring your vision. You didn’t want to die. Not yet and not now. Your squad had given their lives beside you, how cruel would it be for their sacrifices to be in vain?
You thought back to your days in the Temple as a mere Youngling, the evenings when sun leaked through the window panes in golden arcs above your head. It had always been warm in the Temple. Comforting. You wondered if it would have been better to live your life as a specialist in medicine for the Order, or as a harvester of plants.
Anything...anything but this, right? Anything but that aching pain in your chest and that lingering chill of death over your shoulder.
Rex’s lips kept moving. Sound slowly fell into the atmosphere, little droplets that hit your ears like a waterfall. You sensed his urgency, his own pain that flooded his honest heart. You couldn’t die in his arms, not him. Not when he was your best friend, your companion.
“Stay with me!” he pleaded. “You’re gonna make it, I promise.” You would have shaken your head if you could. What kind of lie was he telling you?
Tears ran down your cheeks as you chocked out a jumble of words. A familiar mantra filled your head (I am one with the Force and the Force is with me), one you focused on in order to be with Rex. Your friend. It was all you could offer when fear clouded your mind and death rang true.
“I...I’m going to die.” you stammered between breaths. “I-I’m sorry. I-I’m s-so sorr...sorry.” Rex firmly took your hand in his and gave it a squeeze. In your mind, you heard the memories rushing into his head, the anguish of all the death he faced. “You are not going to die.” he affirmed. “You are not going to die!”
“R-Rex...” You shook your head with a chocked sob. “I-I failed my...my Master and my s-squad...I failed...I failed as a Jedi...”
He only squeezed your hand harder. Held you a little tighter. “No, you did not. If that were true, then you would have already died. I know how close you were to your squad, and I know they would want to see you live. I saw them on the way here, they're going to get Kix and he'll patch you right up, understood?”
All you sensed from his heart was the burn of determination and the fierce beating of loyalty. He would not leave your side, nor would he accept your words even if it were with your dying breath. To him, and to him alone, you were always admirable.
Special, he had once said.
And whatever that meant shouldn’t really matter, right? Even if determination were not enough to keep you alive, you began to wonder, trust. Maybe...Rex was right. He wouldn’t lie to you. He wouldn’t.
With those firm hands, Rex dabbed away your tears. “You’re going to be okay, understood, Commander? You will not die. Not on my watch.”
To Rex, you were special. Not because you were a Jedi or because you were practically a child soldier, but because you were you. In the last moments of the battle with your squad, you were willing to give your life to fight alongside them.
Still, you couldn’t believe that last bit--the part of him thinking you as ‘special’. For Rex, your friend, your confidant, your companion, held tight to the promise of tomorrow. That piece of determined belief left you gripping tight to life.
Tight to words that rang true in your heart. You shut your eyes, focusing on the pull of the Force. Its calm was just out of your reach, barely a hair's away as you grasped and seized it.
I am one with the Force, you thought. And the Force is with me.
Your breaths began to steady into a calm, where not even the heaviest rains could stir your ocean. The breath slowly returned to your body as you focused on the Force, the warmth of Rex's hand as he kept a firm grasp.
"You're not dying," he affirmed once again. "Not on my watch, Commander." And there was a sureness to his voice that made his words nothing but truth.
The buzz of a speeder cut through the night air, where blades of grass bowed down as a group of men raced over with a med kit. You didn't need to look over to know Kix was amongst them, ordering the remnants of your squad to check for any survivors.
And as Kix knelt before you and got to work, you had a feeling everything would be okay. "Rex," you croaked. "You're not leaving yet, right?"
Rex gave your hand a firm squeeze with a shake of his head. "No, Commander. I'll be right by your side."
There was nothing truer than hearing Rex's voice. Your eyes fluttered shut and you muttered out a small 'okay'. The oceans of calm in your heart continued to remain still, where even the smallest of boats could cross the seas unharmed.
You were in good hands, and for that, there would always be a promise of tomorrow.
Hi, I’m new here! I’m not sure if requests are open or if you’re currently writing for ghost, but could we have a scenario where there is a new female ghoul and they’re trying to figure out where they fit in the hierarchy. She’s bratty and challenges sodo, but he’s having none of it and it gets a bit smutty/suggestive and has her submitting. Thank you and my apologies if you don’t write anything like this!
Hello! You got the honor of being my first request! I hope this meets your expectations! I tried my best!
Sodo x F!Ghoul!Reader
2.5k words
Minors DNI
Lightly proofread
Warnings: choking, degradation, male receiving oral, spanking, cussing. (Let me know if I miss any)
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You walk down one of the many halls of the abbey. It was time for your third practice with the rest of the band today. You were still fairly new, only having been summoned a little over a month ago. You didn't entirely have everything figured out yet. Everyone was nice enough to you. All except for one. Sodo. Brought in to be a second rhythm guitar and backup vocals, he didn't believe they needed you. Not that you were here to appease him. You first impression on each other had exactly been great either. You had pushed you luck with all of them. Getting away with most of it, much to your enjoyment.
Coming up to the practice room, you note everyone was already there, save for Swiss and Sodo. Making your way over to your guitar case, you begin pulling everything out. Tuning and securing your guitar, you take a seat on one of the risers. You messing with your finger while waiting on the other two to show when you note a pair of feet stop in front of you, you glance up. Papa smiles down at you. "Hey, are you doing, little one?" He says to you. "I am fine, Papa. Thank you for asking." You politely respond. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Swiss saunter into the room. "Good. Are you adjusting to life in the ministry well?" To that, you shrug, not giving a verbal response. Placing his hand on your shoulder, he gives a quick squeeze. "Well, if you are ever in need, you can come to me." He reassures, going to step away. 10 minutes pass, and you start to grow irritated. Sodo had still not shown up. Swiss and Phantom were wrestling around trying to pass the time while everyone else just lounged around.
Not paying attention, Phantom took a step back and landed right on your tail. You immediately let out a hiss, ears flattening. The moment he lifted his foot, you wrapped your tail around yourself. Turning to look at him, you glare. "Watch what you're fucking doing!" You seethed. "Jeez, I'm sorry." He grumbled throwing his hands up in mock surrender. Sodo finally decided to make his entrance when you turn back around, a lazy grin on his face. Scoffing you stand. "Nice of you to finally show up." His grin falters slightly, eyes narrowing in on you. "If you have a problem with me, write it on a piece of paper, fold it and stick it up your ass." He spat back. You hear someone try and stiffle a snort. You roll your eyes as he moves to get ready and stand in his spot. Papa moves to stand infront of everyone. "Okay let's start at the beginning of the set list and make our way through. Yes?" With no objections he instructs you all to start. You muddle through the first 5 song with only having a few noticeable mistakes. You were now on Cirice. You make it through the first half of the intro, but completely mess up the timing for the second half. You hadn't had much time to memorize every song yet, struggling with most of them still. Papa waved his hand to stop everyone. You immediately feel you face heat, wishing you had your helmet right about now. "How about we start from the beginning again." Papa asks. Letting out a frustrated sigh you prepared to begin. The first half goes fine, but when you get the same spot, you can't seem to play it right. Papa stops everyone for the second time. "Let's take a breather. Pick up where we left off in about 10 minutes." A couple groans could be heard at Papa's announcement, causing your frustration and embarrassment to grow. Phantom and Papa both move towards you. Phantom showing you the tabs and Papa helping you with timing. The three of you running through it together, only for you to still not get it quite right. After your third time, you finally get it right. With some praise from Papa, everyone returns to their spots. "Okay, from the top."
Making it thought the rest of practice without any more major hickups, you thank Satan. Wrapping up, you walk over to where you keep your guitar. You had noticed your strings needed to be replaced during practice. Placing your guitar down, you start to pull out all the necessary equipment. Feeling someone's eyes on you, you half tun to find Sodo staring at you a few steps away from the door, waiting for the other guys. You roll your eyes, flip him off, and continue what you were originally doing. Once you finish restringing your guitar, you turn around and realize you were alone. Sighing you, look at the clock on the wall 4:28pm. Deciding to use this time to get in a little more practice without the pressure everyone being there, you get comfortable. You would have to do it all over again tomorrow.
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In the same predicament as yesterday, everyone was waiting on Sodo. You sat quietly, strumming some cords. After about 20 minutes, Sodo finally made his presence know. He stops beside you and grabs his guitar, throwing the strap over his shoulder. "You know, for someone who's in such an important role, it seems to me like you sure don't like to be here." You mumbles loud enough for him to catch it. He pauses looking at you. "I don't remember asking for your input." He bit back at you. You stand up, so you are toe to toe. The tension in the room was palpable. "Hey, how about we get started." Papa tried and failed to get either of your attention. The others were watching the interaction closely. "I'm just saying! Maybe that's why they brought me in. To cover for you late ass. Maybe I'll end up as your replacement. Can't preform if you don't show the fuck up. Maybe I'll end up better then you." You jab a finger in his chest, making him tense. You were pushing on a sensitive subject and you knew it. You could see his face contort in to one of anger, ears pinned back, and tail violently cutting through the air. "I'll show you exactly what you fucking are, you little bitch." The vemon in his voice threatening. You growl in a challenging manner and glare the moment the words left his mouth. Before he even made a move for you the others sprung into action. Rain getting to the two of you first, he shoved his way between, pushing the hot-headed ghoul back, baring his teeth, trying to get Sodos attention on him. Phantom going behind, he grabbed Sodos' raised arm. Sodo did not take to kindly to this, turning his angry gaze to him and ripping his arm out of his hands. "That is enough!" Papa bellowed out. Voice packed with authority. At his words, everyone froze. It startled you he had never spoken in such a way around you before. "I will not have you guys fighting. You have a job to do now fucking do it." Slowly everyone moved to their respective places, Sodo's eyes tracking your movements. You stood your ground and held your head high, not letting him win.
Practice went relatively smoothly. The room remained tense. Not many words spoken aside from Papa giving instructions. At the end, you were quick to put everything away and try to leave. Meeting you at the door, Swiss offers a smile. "I'll walk back with you." Shrugging, you walk out to into the hall. "You know that took some real balls. Going toe to toe with our residential gremlin like that." You give a snort. "Well, if he didn't waste my time, I wouldn't have done it." A lie. You probably still would find a reason to make a smart-ass remark one way or another. He chuckles a bit. "I think you should be careful, though. He can be a bit unpredictable at times." You shake your head with a light chuckle. "Thanks for the warning, I guess. I'm sure I could handle myself, though. Plus, you guys can just save me again!" You say jokingly, giving a small smile. The rest of the way, you guys are in a comfortable silence. Getting back to the ghouls den you b-line straight for the kitchen. "Thanks for walking with me." You call back to swiss. "No problem." Grabbing a snack, you make your way to your room, locking the door. You typically avoid eating supper with the rest of the band, choosing to instead stay in your room. Normally, you wait for everyone to go where they would be staying for the night before leaving your room.
You decide tonight you would watch some TV in the common room once it was empty. Putting your snack of choice on your bedside table, you strip. Throwing on a tank top and a pair of sleep shorts, you burrow into your nest of blankets and open the book you've been working on to pass the time.
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Around 11:30, you had finally curled up on the couch, eating leftovers. Flipping through different shows, you finally pick a movie. Putting the remote down, you sink back into the couch and focus on the screen. Finishing your food, you pause the movie and head to the kitchen. You try to wash your dishes as quietly as possible. Putting the now clean dishes away, you walk back to the couch. Before you can sit back down, you hear a voice come from behind you. "So it does come out of its room." Spinning around you face the unexpected presence "What the fuck do you want? And dont call me an it, asshat." Sodo snickers at you. "You know that attitude of yours, it's going to land you in more trouble then I think you realize." He warned.
You take him in for a second. He was in a tee-shirt and a loose-fitting pair of sweatpants. His long hair flowing over his shoulders. His eyes are zeroed in on you. Slowly, he walks around the couch to stand in front of you. "And what are you going to do about?" You challenge stepping closer so your noses are barely 4 inches apart. His eyes darken. "I'll do exactly what I told you I would." In one fluid motion, he grabs onto your right knee and drags it up to his waist, his other hand pushing you down to the couch by your neck simultaneously. You let out a surprised cry as your back lands on the couch, Sodos body above you. Hand still on your throat, he pushes your body to be completely on the couch and leans down. "I'm going to show you exactly what you are, and no one's here to save you this time." He whispered in your ear before chuckling darkly and nipping at the shell of your ear. Shivers trail down your spin, a pool of heat forming in your belly. His grip on your neck tightens, but not to the point that it would hurt you too much. His tail comes up the wrap tightly around the ankle of the leg he has pinned to his side so he could let go. Leaning back up, he looks you dead in the eye. "I suggest you be a very good girl." He pushed your shorts aside and runs a finger through your wet folds. His words and actions cause you to swallow a moan. You couldn't get your thoughts in order, just staring up at him. "Are you going to be a good girl for me? Or am i going to fuck that attitude right out of you." He questioned dragging his finger over your clit, pulling a gasp from you. You stare at him for just a minute longer before narrowing your eyes. "I don't think you could, I heard that your dicks about as short as your temper." You provoke him, trying to push his buttons. You must have pushed the right button because before you knew it he was getting off you and manhandled you so you were laying across his lap.
Grabbing your tail with one hand to keep it out of the way, he slides your shorts down to expose your ass. "Count" was the only warning you got before a resounding smack rang through the room. The impact on you ass left a burning sting, making you gasp. He waited a moment, rubbing the now tender spot. When he didn't hear a word from you, he growled. "I said count." Smack. Gasping out a strangled one, he sounded pleased. He rubbed the spot again before landing another blow. Smack. "Two." Smack. "Three." Smack. "Four." By the fourth, you had tears rolling down your face. Letting go of your tail, he set you up he and wiped them away. "Are you okay?" He asked softy, forehead touching yours. You nodded. "Can you keep going?" Another nod. "I need words." He pressed. You finally let out a small "Yes." To which he grinned, his kind and caring demeanor for a few seconds ago completely changed. "Good. Get on your knees in front of me." His voice full of authority. Looking at him, your eyes widen. "What?" He gave you a dark look. "I said, get on you fucking knees." Sinking onto the floor you do as he says.
Lifting his hips he pushes his pants down, releasing his fully hard cock from its confines. He was anything but small. Studying him for a minute, you let out an unsteady breath. The head was a flushed, angry pink. The body of his cock had a slight curve and the perfect amount of veins running the length of it. Making eye contact you reach for it. "Be a good little slut. Suck it." He taunts. Taking it in your hands, you pump it a few times before bringing it to your lips. His body shudders under your touch, his eyes closing. Suckling on the head a bit, you continue to watch him, gauging his reactions. Eventually, you sink down to take as much it to your mouth as you could manage. Bringing lips back up to the tip, you begin to bob up and down. Sodo's let's out a strangled moan. His hand reaches for you, entangling in your (h/c) hair, and presses you down harder. "You like that, don't you? You like chocking on my cock like the whore you are?" You moan on his dick at the question. Opening his eyes, listening to the sounds you make. He starts thrusts into your mouth a couple of times. "Your a little slut. A little slut who likes sucking on my cock. You dirty little whore." He then pushes to the back of your throat and stills. You suck hard as you drag up to the tip, ripping a groan out of him. Sliding back down as far as you can manage, you do it three more times. With tight grip on your hair, he pulls you off his dick, saliva still connecting your lips to it. "You keep doing that your going to make me cum." Sodo pants, smiling. "That was the plan." You smile back. "How about we finish this in my room?" Sodo releases his grip on your hair and helps you up.
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The next day, everybody was sitting in the practice room, waiting for Sodo. You had your insults locked and loaded but for different reasons now. You knew there would be consequences, and you were going to enjoy every minute of it.
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Feedback is always appreciated! Thank you for the read! Requests are open!
FWB!Keegan who you slept with one night after getting drunk at a wedding
FWB!Keegan who had no problem with continuing the friendship and the sex
FWB!Keegan who always knew you better than anyone else and knows your sensitive spots now too.
FWB!Keegan who lets you bother him at any time of the day just for sex.
Oh, and it’s sex. No quickies, fucks, or cockwarming. Intimate sex.
FWB!Keegan who knows you so well know that he makes fun of you because you can never ride him for too long because you get tired
FWB!Keegan who bets you $100 if you can make him cum, but you have to ride him.
You who accepts the challenge because you’re sure you can do it and can prove him wrong, so you can get the money so you can buy yourself a sweet treat.
FWB!Keegan who says “y’got this?” with the biggest smirk as he lays back and guides himself into you. His voice is condescending and it makes you want to prove him wrong even more.
“mhm” you nod. “I’m getting that Benjamin” you say confidently and start moving. Rocking your hips against his and riding his thick cock.
“Careful, you’ll get tired” Keegan warns when you go faster, his hands are behind his head as he watches you. He knows your tells, your hips have already stuttered a few times and he knows there’s more to come.
“Will not” you huffed and bounced harder and faster in spite of him. Just to prove him wrong. He was so losing those $100.
“mhm…” he hummed, his hands resting on your waist now that you’ve laid on his chest. your head nuzzled on the slope of his neck. “how you doin baby?” Keegan says, rubbing your back. Your thighs are burning, so tired that you’ve resorted to small hums and whines instead of back talking and making jabs at Keegan.
“Tired” you whispered, panting softly as you take a break and let your legs rest. “i can tell,” he smiled to himself.
“need me to finish your job?” he asks, smirking at your hum and the gentle squeeze around his cock. He started moving, in and out, he starts slow trying to ease you back into your earlier pace.
“Y’did good, baby, so good” he whispers, kissing your head. Smiling as he feels you reach your climax and listens to your moans.
“my pretty girl…” he mumbles as he spills his load in you.
synopsis: in which you can't catch a break from the criticism
a/n: based on this request! i based this when Charles and Carlos were still teammates in Ferrari
pairing: carlos sainz x leclerc!reader
my masterlist
The Monaco sun bore down on the paddock, its golden glow making everything seem brighter—everything except the storm brewing inside you.
It wasn’t the first time you had been caught between your brother and your boyfriend, and knowing the way the media twisted narratives, it certainly wouldn’t be the last.
"She's in Carlos' garage again?"
"Guess we know where her loyalty lies"
"Poor Charles. His own sister doesn’t even support him"
The whispers never stopped. No matter what you did, someone had an opinion about it. If you were seen with Carlos, you were a bad sister. If you were supporting Charles, you were a neglectful girlfriend.
There was no winning with them.
But today, after months of keeping quiet, you had had enough.
The weekend had started out promising. Monaco was home for both you and Charles, and it was always a special kind of race. One where your family was present, where old childhood memories resurfaced as you walked the familiar streets.
You had been excited, looking forward to seeing both Charles and Carlos fight for the top spots in qualifying.
That excitement, however, had quickly soured when you saw the headlines flooding social media.
BREAKING: Charles Leclerc’s sister chooses sides: Spotted in Sainz’s garage instead of her brother’s.
Your grip tightened around your phone as you stared at the article. They made it sound like you were betraying Charles just by standing next to Carlos before his qualifying session.
Never mind the fact that you had been in Charles’ garage just thirty minutes earlier.
Never mind the fact that you loved both of them in completely different ways.
Carlos had seen the article, too. He could always read your mood, even when you tried to mask it. When you arrived at his motorhome later that evening, his first words weren’t hello but instead a soft, “You’re upset”
You sighed, flopping down on the couch.
“I don’t get it. How is it that no matter where I stand, I’m always wrong?”
Carlos sat down beside you, his hand immediately finding yours.
“They don’t know you,” he said simply. “They only know the stories they want to write.”
His words made sense, but they didn’t make the situation any less frustrating.
You were tired of walking a tightrope, tired of constantly having to prove your love for both your brother and your boyfriend.
“I don’t even want to check Twitter,” you muttered, resting your head against Carlos’ shoulder.
He pressed a kiss to your forehead.
“Then don’t” he whispered.
You wished it were that easy.
Race day was no better.
You had split your time between both garages as you always did. Before the race started, you had been by Charles’ side, giving him your usual pre-race pep talk, something you had done for years.
The cameras had captured the moment perfectly — the way Charles smiled at you, the way you squeezed his hand just before he climbed into the car.
But then, once the race started, you had shifted to Carlos' garage. It was an unspoken agreement between you and Charles that you would support Carlos during the race.
Charles had Joris, his mom, and the entire Ferrari team backing him up. Carlos, while also surrounded by his own support system, had you. And you knew how much it meant to him.
The moment you stepped into Carlos’ side of the garage, you could already hear the murmurs.
“She was just with Charles.”
“She really can’t decide, can she?”
“Maybe she should’ve dated someone from another team.”
You clenched your jaw, trying to block out the noise.
It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair.
You watched the race unfold, fingers gripping the edge of your seat as both Charles and Carlos fought hard on track. Every overtake, every pit stop, every strategy decision had you on edge.
You just wanted them both to succeed. Was that really so wrong?
When the checkered flag waved, Charles had finished P3, Carlos P5. A bittersweet result.
As soon as you made your way to parc fermé, you congratulated Charles first, wrapping your arms around him. He hugged you back tightly, murmuring a soft "Merci" against your ear.
And then you moved to Carlos, giving him the same love and support.
The cameras caught it all.
By the time you reached your phone again, social media was already on fire.
Does she not realize how bad this looks?
She barely even celebrated with Charles before running to Carlos.
I feel so bad for Charles. Imagine your own sister prioritizing your teammate over you.
Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, itching to reply. To defend yourself. But you knew it wouldn’t change anything. They had already made up their minds about you.
Carlos must have noticed the way your face fell, because he gently plucked your phone from your hands and locked it.
“Enough of that,” he said, voice firm but gentle. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
You hesitated, your eyes darting to your brother's side of the garage.
“But Charles—”
“—is fine,” Carlos assured you. “I’m sure he’ll be the first one to tell you to ignore all this bullshit.”
And he was right.
Later that night, as you sat on Charles’ balcony overlooking the city, your brother nudged your shoulder.
“I saw the things people were saying,” he said. “It’s stupid.”
You sighed, your shoulders slumping.
“I just hate that they make it seem like I have to choose between you and Carlos.”
Charles frowned, shaking his head at you.
“You don’t. And you never have to. We both know where your heart is.”
You blinked, looking at him. “You do?”
He nodded. “Yes. And if they can’t see that, then they’re not worth your time.”
A lump formed in your throat, as you tried to keep yourself from crying.
“I just don’t want you to ever feel like I don’t support you.”
Charles gave you a small, reassuring smile.
“I’ve never doubted you, chérie. Not once.”
Tears pricked at your eyes, but before they could fall, Charles pulled you into a hug, holding you tightly.
Carlos found you both a few moments later, pausing in the doorway.
“Can I join?”
Charles rolled his eyes but opened an arm, letting Carlos pull you into his chest.
And for the first time that weekend, the noise of the outside world faded away.
You weren’t just Carlos’ girlfriend.
You weren’t just Charles’ sister.
You were you—someone who loved them both with all her heart.
And that was enough.
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When Lando tries to play matchmaker with his two friends, the negative response comes from someone he did not imagine
or
When Oscar wants to prove you wrong
warnings: English isn't my first language, not proofread, mentions of alcohol and weed, smut, unprotected sex, car sex. Smut have warning before it starts and after it ends! - MDNI!!!!
word count: around 2k
"What do you mean 'no'?" Lando looked at you as if you grown a second head. "Don't play nonchalant about this, that's his thing. I've heard you ramble about him before."
"Yep." You agreed, sipping your drink.
"So why the fuck not?" He crossed his arms. "You'd be bloody great together."
"Do you really think that, muppet?" You bit back, eyes still lifeless staring back at him. Lando nodded. "You don't understand man. I like him? Yes. Very much. So much is inebriating." You confessed, looking almost... tired?
"But I've come to the terms that we would never work." Your shoulders moved up and down. "We are so fucking different Lan, and you know that. He's like, kind and a ray of sunshine. I'm a mess, you should know this, I'm friends with you, that's telling."
"I'm gonna ignore this outrage statement because I'm on a bigger mission here." He continued, knowing you were deviating the conversation. "The fuck is that coming from?"
"When you like someone that much, you star to try and match your stuff with them." You shrugged, adjusting your hair on the mirror. "And as much as I want to, we just- don't. That's like you said, he is nonchalant, I'm way too chalant. He is so sweet, Im bitter. He is all composed and... I dunno... Like those fitness influencers who have insane wellness routines? You know. And I'm the entire opposite. He's sweet as a grape."
"Are you quoting Hozier's Too Sweet at me right now?" His green eyes looked at you in disbelief. "Are you for real?"
"Kinda."
"Okay I know you may be having doubts, but why not try? It's better than not try, right?"
"Okay now you're just quoting The Good Place at me." You mocked, hearing people bang on the door to the bathroom. "But you know that I'm way too down bad for him to just try and go along with it. I'm usually cool with this kinds of stuff, but... I know I'll just be delusional and want more with him."
"So make us both a favor and drop it, because I don't wanna have my heart broken, and you don't wanna hear me whining about it, sir Norris."
Oscar's eyes were trained on you the moment you left the bathroom with Lando at his house party. You and Lando knew each other since kids, and it was very obvious to everyone in that house, including him, that nothing would ever happen between the two of you.
You noticed his glance and just offered him a small smile before turning and starting a conversation with Max Fewtrell, yours and Lando's best friend.
"Thought you said that'd work." He commented when Lando came up to him. "I really shouldn't trust your matchmaking skills, remember the redhead you tried to hook me up with in Vegas?"
"Hey, she was hot! And liked koalas."
"She liked spiders."
"You grew up with both, mate, whatever." Oscar shooked his head with a smile on his face. "And she wants you, she's just worried you might not want her."
"What?"
"She didn't believe when I said you were down to meet her. She thinks I'm setting her up with someone who does not want her."
"Why would she think that? You did that before?"
"Not the case right now. She thinks that because she basically doesn't think she's good enough for you."
The softest "what" came out of Piastri's lips.
"Yeah, she even quoted Hozier at me."
"I... don't know what that means."
Later that day, when he was in bed, smeling a bit like alcohol and feeling his body light from the drinking, Lando's words came back to him. He was waiting to sober up more, although he was probably the most sober out of everyone in that party, including you, who at some point started trying to teach Pietra how to creepwalk, to which, you failed.
He kept watching you that night, from some distance, of course, to try and understand what you meant to Lando when you said "too different".
And to be honest, he kinda got that.
You weren't necessarily and extrovert, at least with those you didn't know, but with your friends, wow were you outgoing.
You and Max were doing shots at random moments of the night, a bet to see who would fall first. You'd drink whataver he drank, and he'd drink whatever you drank.
He smoked some weed, so you did too.
You took jello shots made purely out of the cheapest vodka you could find, so he did too.
Lando and Pietra were trying to keep up with the two of you, but it was in vain. You two were on fire.
And to be honest, Oscar liked that.
You probably didn't see it, but you were both bold, only on different aspects of life.
And he wanted to show you that.
So, phone in hand, he texted Lando, who was already on his own room, probably with some fling of his. The party had died down and only a few people were left, including you, who were downstairs probably playing truth or dare or never have I ever with the other survivors of the night, and him, who was in a guest room.
[What did u meant when you mentioned Hozier earlier?] seen 2:38a.m.
[she quoted his song to me]
[too sweet, look it up im busy] seen 2:40a.m.
[At least tell me the name of the song so i can search it, man] 2:40a.m.
[are youo actually stupid? the name of the song is TOO SWEET, im not compliemnting you mate.] seen 2:40a.m.
[i knew that] seen 2:41a.m.
[sure you did] seen 2:41 a.m.
Spotify open. He typed down those two words and sure enough, a song by an Irish man popped up. The beat was kinda animated, and he didn't though to bother searching up the internet to see what other thought of that song.
He took his own conclusion.
"If you can sit in a barrell, maybe I'll wait". In his slightly disturbed mind, that meant he still had a shot. He just needed to prove you two weren't so different.
And while drunk, he took an oath to do that.
.
For the 2024 season, Lando had hired you as his personal counselor, which was just an excuse for you to travel around the world with him.
The reason why? Oscar didn't knew, but he wasn't complaining.
That meant seeing you around the paddock a lot, even til the highest hours of the night after each race, post-debriefs and everything.
Today was one of those days.
It was after a session of FP1 and FP2 of the US Grand Prix, and the post-practice debrief had just ended, people moving around and starting to leave.
Oscar gathered his stuff and was ready to walk to his own car and leave.
That's when he spotted you.
On one of the halls from the McLaren hospitality, walking around in a jacket he did not recognize as any of the teams merch.
"Are you switching scuderias?" He asked, nodding the jacket direction, startling you.
You looked down, almost forgetting which clothes you were wearing. "Oh that's just from the next NASCAR winning team."
"You like NASCAR?"
"I was very frustrated when I realized Cars was about NASCAR and not F1, I might switch motorsports." You smiled.
"Good luck cheering for Joe Gibbs."
"Oh which one do you choose? Spire?"
"No, never. 23XI is way better."
You rolled your eyes at his statement, a small smile still on your lips, a huge one on his.
"I'll laugh to your face when Denny Hamlin ends Riley on track next cup, Piastri."
"It's on, Y/ln."
Two days later, after the Grand Prix, Oscar dropped the bomb on the interview.
"... Maybe we should just adopt NASCAR rules and end things on track." A knowing smile on his lips, looking at the camera.
He wanted you to know. He made sure of it, it wasn't just some comment, there was more.
"Mate, NASCAR rules? Are you insane?" Lando asked later, watching you perk up at that mention.
Oscar smiled and watched you, barely giving his teammate any recognition. You searched the internet, the key words you never thought would be put together: "Oscar Piastri + NASCAR".
And sure enough, there it was, the interview.
You looked up at him, slightly flabbergasted and changed your expression to a smile.
And God, did he love that smile.
.
"Disrespectfully, Fuck Papaya Rules."
Oscar phisically perked up when he heard that. He was strolling around the paddock and caught you talking with reserve McLaren driver, Pato O'Ward.
"Not only that's dumb, but honestly, fuck-ass name for a strategy."
He chuckled at that, hearing you from around the corner.
"Honestly I don't know if I'd follow that if I ever fill in for any of them." Pato admitted, shrugging. "I understand when it's for the Constructors Championship but Drivers? Fuck that."
"My favorite moment so far is when Oscar cut him right on the beginning, it was kind of a 'fuck your championship' moment, I live for that."
"Lando's gonna fire you if he hears you say that." Pato laughed. "Remember when you hit him because he didn't spray Oscar on the Hungary podium?"
"And I'd do it again."
"You hit Lando to defend me?" Oscar asked later that day, on the parking lot, as you were waiting for your friend.
You looked up at him and his smug smile.
That actually caught you unexpected. Oscar was coy, you knew that, but he was getting progressively bolder and more challenging.
It messed with your brain.
"You eavesdropping?"
"I just like to hear when people talk about me." He admitted. "Don't you?"
"No. I hate knowing what people think of me."
Oscar chuckled. That was kind of perfect, because he wasn't good with words.
"I promise I won't tell you what I think of you if I can give you a ride back to the hotel."
That was the main difference between you and Oscar: you were provocative, alluring, liked to get under people's skin, while he was straightforward, deadpan and liked to see people's reaction to brutal honesty.
"Sure."
.
It was the last race of a triple header, Brasil.
Five DNFs, the race and the quali delayed so many times, it was exhausting. Oscar finished P8, which, yes, was a bad position, but he was glad he at least finished the race, unlike five other drivers.
He was so tired, and it showed on his face.
No one even dared ask him or Lando how they were feeling because it was obvious, so he pratically slipped away from the mechanics and engineers.
And he found you. Sitting on the floor, back to the wall that separated his and Lando's driver room, texting rapidly.
He wanted so bad to have you to him, to talk to you before media duties, to have you on his driver room alone. But he and Lando weren't exactly on the best terms, so he couldn't just snatch away his friend.
Or couldn't he?
"Lando's gonna be late." He said, snatching your attention immediately. "If you want to come in."
"Yeah, in a sec." You went back to typing right away.
"You texting someone?" You nodded but answered back:
"Since when do you care?"
"I don't know, I just want your attention." There it was again, the honesty. "I mean, the person you might be texting can be cool and all but, do they drive at 300km/h for McLaren?"
You stopped, looking up at him, almost not believing those words actually came out of his mouth.
"He doesn't..." He smiled. "He actually drives for Mercedes and is a 7 time world champion."
"You're texting Lewis?" Oscar asked softly, smile vanishing. "Isn't he too old for you?"
"First of all, Lewis Hamilton could never be 'too old'. And second, It's not like you're thinking." You pushed yourself up, entering his room. "I'm just congratulating him on the Senna homage and asking what he wants to get me tickets for the next Kendrick Lamar concert."
"I don't know how many times I can offer to babysit Roscoe."
Oscar closed the door behind him, a sigh of relief leaving his lips.
He launched himself on the nearest armchair he could find and groaned, feeling his body ache, trying to stop the shakes on his body from being wet with the cold wind.
"Are you okay?" Y/n asked, voice dripping with concern.
"Yeah. My back's killing me, and I think I'm going to have a cold."
"Take a hot shower, I'll grab you some medicine." She instantly put the phone down, marching towards the door, but was interrupted when Oscar held her wrist.
"Stay." The word came out murmured, a gentle plea, his eyes closed. "Please."
It was weird seeing him like that, so vulnerable, so desirous, it made your heart fumble when he opened those soft brown eyes. So you nodded.
"But you're gonna lie down and get warm. I don't want you sick."
He obliged, draggin himself -and you on the processes, because he couldn't let go of you- towards the improvised bed he had on his driver room.
"But what if-" Oscar began, starting to lie down. "I get sick so I can escape from the media duties?"
"Can you do that?"
"It's worth a shot."
You smiled, pulling a chair to be close to him still, to which he thanked with a smile.
Surely after, Oscar fell asleep. You know it wasn't ideal, but you stood by and watched him peacfully sleeping. He was so soft, so cat-like, so pretty.
Your heart ached with how much you liked him.
And maybe, even though he didn't knew, he was showing you how you two could be a match.
When he woke up, half an hour later, you weren't there already, but he found the medicine you said he needed with a small note that said "You snore like a cat purrs (take care), Y/n."
He smiled ear to ear, almost all of the fatigue gone. He folded the note and tucked it in one of the pockets of his bag, leaving to the unfortunate meeting with the media.
Later that day, as Y/n was getting to her hotel room when she noticed something hanging from the doorknob.
It was a keychain in the shape of a cat, with a small note that read "To remember me".
Y/n rolled her eyes, but with a small smile on her face, that turned into a shock expression the moment she saw the things attached to it: two tickets for the Kendrick Lamar concert.
"Oscar Jack Piastri, you little devil."
.
"How was the concert?" Oscar asked, a knowing smile on his lips.
Y/n smiled widely. It has been a couple of months since Oscar Piastri started pursuing you; you ended up knowing what he was up to when Lando commented that he was determined.
And dear God, he was.
And it moved you.
You don't remember ever someone putting this much effort for you. That alone, warranted some points on his advantage.
"It was good, I actually ended up meeting Snoop Dogg also and we talked a lot about West Side." You rambled, watching his eyes get lost, trying to search his brain for any information about any of the words you just said. "I'm just messing with you. It really meant a lot to me so, thank you."
"Anytime."
"You need a ride to the hotel?" He offered. "Think Lando's not going back any time soon."
You looked back to the door for the party, the music still so loud, lights flashing in different colors and you could almos feel the smell of alcohol even from this distance.
Usually, you'd be inside going crazy too, celebrating that the team you work for had finally won the Constructor's Championship after so many years not knowing what that feels like.
But you were tired. So you took Oscar's offer.
His car smelt new, even though he had this car for quite some time now, his cologne, a strong woody scent mixed with the fresh odor of the seats.
"So, how does it feel, huh?" You asked right after he started driving. "Constructor's champions."
"It's amazing." He answered, and you could feel the tiredness and happiness from his tone. "It's exactly that, a reward for all the hard work."
"Driver's championship next?"
"For me I hope so."
"Next season's gonna be amazing." You smiled, hiding the sadness. "I mean, five rookies on the grid, Hamilton at Ferrari, hopefully Max's downfall?"
"May God hear you, Y/n."
"This sport was missing some emotion." Oscar stared at you from the side of his eyes as you entered the highway, which was completely desert due to high hours of the night. "I mean, to you guys there's always emotion but that's because you're driving, to us just watching cars go around and no overtakes, no fun business is kinda boring."
A mischiveous glint shone on Oscar's eyes as he pushed the throttle pedal further and further with each word you said.
"Osc, what are you doing?"
"Just thought you'd like a piece of the emotion like we have." He opened the windows, a huge smile on.
The adrenaline rushed through your muscles, eyes blown wide as the velocity increased, starting to grip the seat as you laughed. Oscar was so normal about it he was even driving with only one hand on the wheel.
"Fuck it, Imma act like a dog."
Oscar laughed genuinely as you loosened the seatbelt and propped your head out of the window, the wind forcing your skin and giving you goosebumps.
You could barely breathe but that was a whole part of the fun.
"Oh my God this is amazing!"
"Emotion enough for you?"
"God, how are you guys so normal after every race?" You asked, sitting back down, heart beating so fast inside your chest. "I'd feel like I'm on the top of the world, honestly."
The song on the radio pushed your pulse to quicken even more. You opted for keeping your head inside to talk to Oscar, but one hand was out, dancing with the wind.
"God, I'm gonna miss this."
"What?!"
Shit.
He wasn't supposed to hear that, not yet.
You sighed, putting a hand on high thigh, feeling him tense up. "You can slow down now." He did, eyes constantly darting back to your hand, touching him. "The reason I was flying around with Lando and the team was because he wanted to give me new opportunities. And I got one in Italy, as a fashion designer. This is my last night working for McLaren."
Oscar couldn't believe what he was hearing, all his effort, all that he was dreaming for, to have you by his side every race just like this season but this time, as his partner.
He kind of thanked you for telling him to slow down, because his head was spinning.
"Italy is close to Monaco, no?"
"It's in Milan, a three hour drive." You answered, lightly caressing his thigh. "Lando already knew of that possibility, no one was supposed to get attached to me. I'm sorry, Osc."
He parked the car in front of the hotel, both hands now on the wheel as he was trying to calm down and grasp the reality of everything going on.
You were leaving.
He felt your hand lifting up from his pants and immediately grabbed it.
"I'm not giving you up."
"Osc-" "No."
"I didn't come this far just to lose you, not now."
"You're not losing me." He looked at you. "I'll just- I'll be in the country next door." You smiled tightly. "But it's okay if you don't want someone who can't accompany you, I get it."
"You'd wait for me?"
"What?"
Oscar blinked, his grip on your hand tightening, eyes intense as if he was begging.
"Wait for me, to be back from the races, wait for the breaks?"
"Osc that's thing long relationships go through, we don't know if it'd work and-"
He held your face. Gently, sweet, almost too sweet.
"We have until March. I want to try. I could never ask you to give up on something you want so bad, so that's why I'm asking you to not give up on us."
Us. That knocked all the air from your lungs.
"I can see it in your face. You want this just as badly as I do." Oscar's voice was low, sending shivers down your spine with the way he talked. "I already showed you how much of a match we can be, let me show you we can make this work."
You shouldn't, you really really shouldn't. If it all went south you didn't know if you could recover from him.
But it was hard to think when he was this close.
So you made a decision.
Even if it slipped away, it'd have claw marks from you. You were ready to try and keep him in your life with all your strength.
So you launched yourself forward, capturing his lips.
SMUT AHEAD - YOU'VE BEEN WARNED
His kiss was desperate, hands full on launching themselves at your body and holding you tight, as if you'd start to slip away right this moment.
"Osc! On the car?" You laughed, breaking the kiss, to which he immediately bent his head down to kiss your neck.
"Just this once." He was almost begging, trying to get you free from the seatbelt and into his lap. "I've wanted you for so long, love, please."
Too sweet? No, just the right amount.
You clicked your seatbelt and pushed it away, hopping onto his seat, back meeting the steering wheel, chest to chest, knees barely on the seat from how big his legs were.
The impression was that Oscar was ravenous, like a hungry man, devouring every inch of your skin he could, levaing behind a trace of his saliva and maybe some hickies, but neither of you cared.
His breathing was uneven, hands roaming your body like it was the curves of a circuit he needed to remember and dominate.
"Osc-" You hummed, feeling his hard-on pressing against you, dry humping it, pulling moans from both of you. "Fuck!"
"Didn't peg you as a tits guy." You laughed upon noticing both his hands lodged around your boobs, guiding you through them to ride his erection.
"I'm a Y/n guy, everything about you drives me insane." He confessed, moving his right hand to your ass, moving your body around his lap, feeling your thighs shake against his hips. "Love, please."
Your hands traveled down his chest, nails grazing his skin on top of the formal suit he had on. He looked like a prince, even though he was ready to fuck you like a soldier. Finally, your hands worked fast to take his belt off and open his pants.
His cock, finally freed from his underwear, was so hard already and leaking with pre-cum. You smeared it around as started playing with his tip, feeling his hips buck upwards.
You were looking at his face atently, seeing his expressions falter at your touch.
Oscar's eyes found your and they were dark like never before.
"You're such a fucking tease." He complained, stirring around, trying to feel more of your touch.
"Someone has to take the lead, huh?"
A spark flew past his eyes, hand moving up and grabbing a fistful of your hair, yanking it harshly.
"Osc!" You whined, head thrown back as his grip didn't loosen even slightly, sending a heat wave down your body, allodging itself in your pulsating core.
"Someone has to take the lead, right love?" He snapped back, a huge smile on his face as he watched you shake. "Enough with the teasing, pull your panties to the side and sink on my dick."
Fumbling with your hands, you found the slit of your dress and tucked your hand inside, founding the laced fabric that was already drenched, pulling it to the side.
Oscar helped you lodge on top of him, lining up your entrance and his lenght, one hand still holding you tightly by the hair and the other moving your ass around.
"Fuck, love!" He moaned as you started sitting on him, caressing your head, making you shiver and tighten even more. "When you feel it all inside you, you can take the lead back, m'kay?"
Your lips met each other's, drinking the moans away.
The further you sank on him, the more he sank on the driver's seat, feeling all the tension leave his body, finally feeling your insides.
Fully inside, he let go of your hair as he promised and allodged both hands on your hips, gripping you bot not forcing you to move.
"Think you're gonna last?" You asked, opening the buttons to his shirt, positioning both hans on each side of his chest.
He opened his eyes, the dark hungry was still there, much softer now, he looked drunk and so languidly happy. "We can leave the torture for the next times, can't we love?"
You wanted to tease him, and say maybe, that now the lead was back to your hands, you were going to make him last painfully, but you felt the tight knot on your low womb, and knew even you weren't going to last.
"Okay, Osc."
And you started to ride him, watching him give in and just become a moaning mess, still holding tight to your waist but completely gone.
"Fuck, love, you're- you're too good!"
You also didn't thought Oscar was going to be so talkative during sex, given his nonchalant ways, but when given pleasure he turned into a bubbling mess, talking nonsense.
"So good, so worth the wait." He mumbled, pulling you closer and moaning in your lips as you two kissed again. "You ride me so well." He kept going, as you started kissing his neck, wanting to hear more. "Don't stop, please don't stop, love."
His hands restored to gripping your waist and travelling up sometimes to carress your tits on top of your dress.
"You should be wearing less clothes, love, you're so pretty." He complained. "Are you close?"
"Mhmm."
"So am I. Cum with me, love." He groaned, voice too raw for his own good, messing around with your head. "Come on, baby." His hips started snapping up, meeting you halfway your ride.
A strained whine left your lips, hugging his shoulders and propping your head on your arms, launching your moans directly into his ear, pushing him further down his high.
"I'm- I'm gonna-"
Both your bodies started to shake and his big arms hugged you, pulling you closer, locking you in him as his cum spurted inside you, your knot finally snapping.
"You okay?" He asked a few moments later, feeling you go limp on top of him. "Still with me?"
"Shut it, Osc."
"Yeah, you're back."
You laughed, hugging him one last time before pulling up from him, immediately putting your panties back in place and returning to the passanger's seat as he zipped his pants back on.
He turned on the AC to clear the windows that became foggy from the heat irradiating from both of you.
You fixed your hair as much as you could, knowing it'd probably be ruined again when you went up to his hotel room. He offered you his blazer, to which you happily took and let it engulf you, hiding the hickied left on your neck.
He went around the car to open your door for you, helping you on your feet as he noticed your legs still shaking. He had that smug smile you got used to on the beggining of your flirting and it made you want to kiss him stupid.
"You think your plan of convincing me we're a match was 100% successfull?" You asked, crossing the hotel lobby still holding his arm, heading toward the elevator.
He leaned into you, voice just above a whisper, only for you to hear. "My cum is leaking out your pussy, you tell me."
You suffocated a smile, desperately pressing the button for the elevator.
SMUT ENDS HERE- WELCOME BACK!
.
"Okay so, I need to know." Lando asked, it was the day after the celebration, you were sharing a breakfast on the McLaren private jet with the rest of the crew.
You were sitting beside Oscar, Lando in front of you two, a little hungover but still curious.
"We're not telling you anything."
"You owe me this, I had to sit through one hour meeting with the pr team about not fucking in cars in the parking lot."
You choked a laugh, tecnically your contract with Lando was over, and you weren't a part of the McLaren anymore, so you got to sleep while Oscar and Lando had to be awake for a very stern lecture.
"Honestly, if you keep doing shit like this I'm gonna make you two pay for my therapy."
"Bill me, mate." Oscar snapped back, a huge smile on his face as he took one sip of a milk glass.
"Fuck you!" Lando answered immediately, shock written all over his face. "Honestly, I should've never put you two together."
"You didn't do shit." You retorted, throwing Lando even further down the insane hill.
He started to ramble about how he was the first matchmaker, how he handled you two talking about each other to him and it almost drove him insane, while you and Oscar just smiled.
You layed your head on Oscar's shoulder, sighing.
He was sweet, but never too sweet for you.
You breathed in his scent, a sharp woody masculine perfume that mixed perfectly with your sweet one. Exactly how you two were supposed to be, boldness in sweetness and sweetness in boldness, completing each other.
And whatever was going to happen to the both of you, you'd fight it, like he fought for you.
april 6th, 2025
Reblogs and feedback are appreciated! ♡
when your idiot friend atsumu gives your phone number to suna rintarou, the guy you've had a crush on for years, will you really fumble him like you thought you would? or could something more blossom between the two of you?
𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲/𝘁𝗮𝗴𝘀 — fluff | sprinkles of angst | suggestive humor | foul language | romance/comedy | lots of "kys" "kms" jokes | smau
𝘀𝘁𝗮𝘁𝘂𝘀 — ongoing ( 12.27.24 — ______ )
𝗺𝗲𝗲𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗮𝘀𝘁 | 𝘃𝗶𝘀𝘂𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘇𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗺𝗼𝗼𝗱𝗯𝗼𝗮𝗿𝗱 | 𝘀𝗽𝗼𝘁𝗶𝗳𝘆 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁
𝗲𝗽𝗶𝘀𝗼𝗱𝗲𝘀
001. yn's astronomical fumble 002. the council shenanigans ( 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲 ! )
a/n :: i can't promise that my posting will be consistent, but i'll try to do my best 😓i'm really excited for this series though, and i hope y'all are too ! if you'd like to be tagged in the next parts, leave a comment and i'll make sure to add you to the series taglist :))
I would let Jango Fett (and any clone, to be honest) call me up when he's planet side, fuck me, then leave without saying goodbye and I'm tired of pretending I wouldn't
🧘♀️🧘♀️🧘♀️ mmmm i had to close my eyes and clench my thighs reading this. jango i think would be more callous and rough w it, whereas some of the clones might be more sincere. because i'm merely a series of holes for them to use I'll just talk about multiple. feel free to request others if i missed someone you'd like to hear about.
jango's rich and highly skilled at his job, notorious to those who know him and invisible to those who don't. it's not hard for him to get you in bed, nor is it hard for him to keep stringing you along, knocking roughly on your door, not because he couldn't get in by picking your lock, but because he wants you to hear that sound and know that it's a precursor to his own behavior: rough, fast, demanding. jango uses you for pleasure and not company, kissing at your mouth instead of letting you talk, smothering you with his broad shoulders and considerable muscle until all you're doing is wrapping your arms and legs around him, your actions solely reliant on his own. he loves pulling back to look at your flushed, sweaty face, your heaving chest as your lips perpetually part just to suck in air that he'd stolen from you with the heft of his body, your limbs weak and limp as he watches you. he's proud of the way he affects you, he's respected and feared in all endeavors he undertakes. he tortures you by never letting you know when he'll be on coruscant, and it means you wait eagerly in your apartment each night, longing for his gloved fist to pound on you door. you let him in every time, and you always will. he lets himself out every time, and he always will.
rex keeps in mostly good spirits with his team and his men, so when he shows up outside your door it's for companionship. He wants connection, he's mollified with claps on the shoulder from general skywalker but camaraderie can't replace intimacy. he nudges his face into yours, his nose bumping the space between yours and your cheek. he breathes your air, he presses himself to you like the space between you might kill him. he's proud to be in your bed, with you, kissing your skin and committing it to memory for late nights out in the cold vacuum of space. he holds you tenderly, his palms always pressed to your flesh to drink you in, and he lets you act as an outlet for his longing. being with you rejuvenates him, but watch out because if he's too happy the day after, his men are gonna know he got laid. general skywalker is all too proud to cover ahsoka's ears when he congratulates him for being in such good spirits
wolffe is so fucking stressed. truly he has to put up with so much bullshit and he's infinitely grateful for his general because if he had skywalker like rex he'd shoot himself. he knocks on your door to pin you to the bed and slam the headboard into the wall, he uses your cunt as a punching bag and he bites vivid, stinging marks into your neck and chest. He kisses them afterwards, letting his post-orgasm tenderness through, but he tires himself out before he ever croons at you. maybe it'd be different if you lived with him, but he's not on coruscant all the time, so frantic rough sex and an empty bed in the morning is what you'll get.
hunter bad batch finds it hard to get time away from his team because of their status as, uh, well, runaways. it's rare that he can let his guard down enough to spend a night in your bed, but that's why he leaves without saying goodbye. he slips out as soon as you're asleep, and departs coruscant before you even wake. you're his, 'be back in a few hours, i've got one last thing to do'. you're left wondering if he has go-tos on every planet, or if you're lucky. you're lucky, but he won't tell you that. he will, however, leave something to hold on to until the next time he sees you. probably a bandana, pardon the cliche, but it's the one he tied your wrists to the headboard with last night, so you keep it with you.
wrecker would genuinely feel terrible not saying goodbye i'm sorry. he might rock your shit and leave you numb but he'll always get all mushy when he's gotta go. he definitely tends to be one of the more romantic ones, he's a big softie and probably wouldn't treat you so callously even if combat was wearing on him. he prides himself for being in your life, and he'd assure you every time you got together that he wasn't just using you for pleasure. he'd comm you semi frequently if he was able.
fives is a little shit who might possibly fit into the scenario described. while i think he'd feel guilty for using you and treating you like he's using you, i can see it happening and just being a poor decision of his that he's not too proud of, but that he can't stop regardless. i can see him playing into a fuckboy persona and trying not to think about it too hard or else he might feel bad. he sweet talks you into letting him in every time and you can barely catch your breath before he's suiting up in his regulation blacks again and heading out the door. he doesn't do it because he's stressed, he doesn't do it because he's desperate to connect with someone, he does it because he's horny and wants a pussy to fuck. he wants to sink his aching dick into a warm body, and that warm body is you.
Omi omi
Something that has been on my mind.
Taskforce 141 with a smol reader who can sleep anywhere because she just fits into all the small spaces around the base and everyday it's a game between the taskforce on where they find the reader dozing off on the base! 🙈
Hope you have a good day! 😽
Warnings: Mild language, ridiculous amounts of fluff, protective 141, jealousy, cuddling
Author's Note: i tried making this poly. You might be able to see it if you squint so… yeah :)
Summary: You have an uncanny ability to sleep anywhere. Thanks to your small size, you manage to squeeze into places no one expects, turning the base into your personal nap zone. At first, it was a game—finding you before Price lost his patience. But slowly, things change. Now, the boys aren’t just looking for you—they’re making sure you’re safe, warm, and taken care of. And maybe… just maybe… they’re realizing they don’t just want to find you. They want to keep you.
Masterlist
MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+
Day 1: The Supply Closet
"Where the hell is Mouse?"
Price’s voice echoed through the barracks, already laced with exasperation. It had only been an hour since they'd last seen you. An hour. And you’d already vanished.
Gaz, standing casually by the doorway, sipped his tea. “Check the supply closet.”
Soap narrowed his eyes. “Why the hell would she be in the—”
Ghost, moving like a man far too used to this, didn’t wait for the debate. He walked straight to the supply closet, gripped the handle, and pulled it open.
There you were.
Curled up on one of the metal shelves, wedged between a stack of MREs and a pile of folded tarps. Your cheek was pressed against a plastic-wrapped ration pack, arms tucked under your head like a damn cat.
Soap stared. “Yer kiddin’.”
Price sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. "How the hell do you find this comfortable?"
You stirred slightly, mumbling something incoherent before sleepily muttering, “Warm.”
Gaz snorted. “Comfortable, Mouse?”
A small nod. “Mm.”
Ghost studied you in silence, then turned and walked away.
Soap gawked. "We’re just leaving her here?"
Ghost shrugged. “She’ll wake up eventually.”
Price sighed. He wasn’t paid enough for this.
——
Day 5: The First Shift in the Game
It started small.
The first time Soap found you tucked into an abandoned supply box, he huffed out a laugh, shook his head—and left his jacket over you.
The next time, Gaz found you curled up under a desk and quietly slid his extra hoodie beneath your head.
Price, despite all his grumbling, was the one leaving snacks.
And Ghost? He never woke you. Never disturbed you. But he stood guard.
The others didn’t notice at first. But after a few days, Soap started eyeing him.
"Y’know, mate," he smirked, "fer someone who acts like he don’t care, you sure stand ‘round a lot whenever Tiny’s sleepin’."
Ghost didn’t react. Didn’t even blink.
But the next morning, when you woke up in your favorite nap spot, there was a blanket over you.
——
Day 12: The Wrong Soldier Found You First
This was not part of the game.
Normally, it was them who found you. Normally, you’d wake up to soft teasing, grumbling, or just being carried away in Soap’s arms.
But today?
Today, some random soldier found you first.
It was innocent at first.
The guy had walked into the break room, noticed your small form curled up in the corner, and let out a snicker.
"Christ, does she ever actually work?"
The temperature dropped.
The conversation across the room stopped.
The soldier barely had time to react before four very dangerous men turned to look at him.
Ghost’s voice was low. Cold. "What did you just say?"
Soap moved first, stepping closer—a little too close. "Say it again, mate."
Gaz threw an arm around your shoulders, very pointedly shifting you away from the guy.
And Price? Price just gave the final nail in the coffin.
“She’s with us.”
The soldier left.
Quickly.
——
Day 20: The Final Nap
At this point, Price was done.
"Alright," he sighed, rubbing his temples. "Where the hell is she now?"
Soap groaned. "We've checked the barracks, the mess hall, the damn armory—"
Gaz cut in. "—and all the lockers."
Ghost, silent as ever, merely looked up.
The team followed his gaze.
And there, sticking out of an open vent, were a pair of very familiar boots.
Soap wheezed. “Oh, no bloody way!”
Gaz just stared. “I don’t even wanna know how she got up there.”
Price turned on his heel and walked away.
“I don’t care anymore,” he announced. “If she falls, she falls.”
Ghost crossed his arms. “She’ll come down eventually.”
Soap grinned. “God, I love this game.”
——
Day 27: The End of the Game
They weren’t expecting to find you here.
Ghost stopped in the doorway first.
Soap nearly bumped into him before looking past and freezing.
Gaz, coming up behind them, just blinked. “Well… shit.”
There you were.
Curled up in Ghost’s bed.
And not just curled up—wrapped in his blanket, half-buried under the heavy black comforter, nuzzled into his damn pillow.
Ghost just stared.
Soap broke first. He grinned. “Oh, this is rich.”
Price, arriving last, sighed. "At this point, she’s not hiding anymore. She’s just making a statement."
Ghost finally moved forward, stepping to the edge of the bed. He tugged at the blanket.
Nothing.
You made a soft, grumpy noise, burrowing deeper.
Soap snorted. “Mate, she just claimed yer bed.”
Gaz smirked. "Might as well get in."
Ghost glared.
Price, done with all of them, turned to leave. “You deal with it.”
Ghost exhaled through his nose before sitting on the bed.
The shift in weight made you stir, eyes cracking open.
"...Ghost?"
He hummed.
You blinked sleepily at him before mumbling, "...Warm."
Soap grinned. "Y’know, mate, if ye just let her sleep with ye, we wouldn’t ‘ave to find her all the time."
Ghost stared.
And, to everyone’s surprise…
He laid down.
Didn’t move you. Didn’t wake you. Just shifted so you weren’t alone.
Soap gawked. “No bloody way.”
Gaz smirked. “I think she wins.”
Ghost just closed his eyes.
Fine.
She wins.
Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜
Summary: YN Hinata is the twin sister of Shoyo Hinata. Where Shoyo is all rainbows and sunshine YN is thorns and storm clouds. YN picks on Hinata any chance she gets. Why? Because of how easy it is & that’s the only way she knows how to show her love. She’d never allow anyone else to treat Shoyo the way she does though. That is until the tall and handsome Tsukishima Kei enters her life and makes it a point to go against her wishes. Why does it always have to be the hot ones?
Pairings: Tsukishima x Reader
Status: Ongoing
Warnings: Language, angst, & 17+ memes
Updates: When I Can
Preview
Introductions
One: Idiot Twin
Two: RIP Tsukishima
Three: The Confrontation
Four: The Bet
Five: You Messed With The Wrong Girl
Six: The Result Are In
Seven: Chaos Is Coming
Eight: Punishment #1
Nine: Spicy Foods and Crazy Men
Ten: Compliments Go A Long Way
Taglist: Open {25/50} please send an ask to be added to the taglist
Humble cat owner (love Bisciut with my heart) 26 female not a writer lol
213 posts