#didn’t really make the rounds over here in europe so i didn’t know about that
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Ruin the Friendship
Max Verstappen x best friend!Reader
Summary: you and Max refuse to confess your feelings for each other in fear of ruining your friendship. Naturally, Max chooses to ruin every date with another man you go on instead
You can’t remember a time when Max Verstappen wasn’t your best friend.
The two of you grew up together, playing in the streets of Hasselt since before you could walk. Your parents joke that you learned to crawl just so you could keep up with him.
As you got older, your friendship only grew stronger. You were inseparable, there for each other through all the ups and downs of childhood and adolescence. When Max’s karting career took off, you were his biggest supporter, traveling all over Europe on weekends whenever you could to cheer him on at races.
After he moved to Monaco when he joined Red Bull, Max begged you to come with him. “I can’t do this without my best friend by my side,” he said. You didn’t hesitate — there was nowhere you would rather be than with Max.
Now you live together in his apartment in Monte Carlo. Mornings are spent on his balcony overlooking the glistening Mediterranean, drinking coffee and chatting about everything and nothing. Evenings are filled with video games, movies, and dreams of the future.
You know everything about each other, from favorite foods to secret fears. You trust Max more than anyone else in the world. He’s your person, the other half of your soul. Sometimes you think you love him as more than a friend, but you’d never risk what you have. If you lost Max, you’d lose yourself.
Today is like any other day. Max is sitting next to you on the couch, focused intently on crushing you in Mario Kart. You’re trying your best, but he’s just too good.
“Yes!” Max pumps his fist in the air as he wins yet again. “Too easy!”
You roll your eyes and shove him playfully. “Whatever, I let you win.”
He laughs. “Sure you did.” His smile makes your heart skip a beat.
You’re about to suggest another round when Max’s phone rings. He grabs it off the coffee table. “It’s Christian,” he says. “Probably wants to go over strategy for the race this weekend. I better take this.”
“No problem.” You stretch your arms over your head. “I’ll make us some lunch while you talk to him.”
Max answers the call as he makes his way out to the balcony. Through the glass door you see him pacing, one hand waving animatedly as he talks. You smile and head to the kitchen.
As you rummage through the fridge, you think about the race this weekend. You couldn’t be more proud of Max and everything he’s accomplished. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t worry every time he got into that car. Still, you know racing makes him happier than anything else in the world. And his happiness is what matters most to you.
You find the ingredients for Max’s favorite sandwich — nutella and banana. As you start spreading nutella on slices of bread, you hear Max call your name from the next room.
“Y/N! Come here, I need your opinion on something!”
You poke your head out of the kitchen. “Can it wait? I’m making lunch!”
“No, it’s urgent! Just come here!” He’s smiling like he has a secret.
You laugh, wiping your nutella-covered hands on a towel. “Alright, I’m coming!”
You make your way out to the balcony, wondering what Max wants your opinion on. With him, it could be anything.
“Ok, what’s up?” You ask.
Max grins and takes your hand, his eyes twinkling. “How would you feel about being my date to the FIA Gala this year?”
You stare at Max, stunned. “Your … your date? To the FIA Gala?”
He nods, still grinning. “Yeah! It’s next month in Baku. I could really use my best friend by my side for moral support on the big Red Carpet.”
Your mind is reeling. The FIA Gala is the biggest formal event of the Formula 1 season. All the top drivers and teams come dressed to the nines to celebrate the end of the championship. Rumors always swirl about who will bring the hottest date.
And Max wants you to be his.
“Are … are you sure?” You stammer. “Wouldn’t you rather bring a model or something?”
Max scoffs. “Please. You know I hate those stuffy events. But with you there cracking jokes and making fun of everybody with me, it might actually be fun for once!”
You can’t help but smile at the thought of being on Max’s arm. “Well, when you put it like that, how can I say no?”
“Yes!” Max pumps his fist. “This is going to be epic. I’ll have my team sort all the details. All you have to do is show up looking gorgeous.” He winks.
You blush slightly. “I think I can manage that.”
Over the next few weeks, Max’s stylist comes by the apartment for dress fittings. You settle on a couture emerald gown with a daring slit up the leg. The perfect blend of classy and sexy.
Max lets out a low whistle when you emerge from your suite the night of the gala. “You look incredible,” he says, staring at you in awe.
You smooth down the front of your dress self-consciously. “So do you.” Max cuts a sharp figure in his black tuxedo.
He offers you his arm. “Shall we?”
Your stomach flutters as you take it. You still can’t believe you’re Max’s date tonight. Part of you wishes it were real instead of just for show.
As predicted, jaws drop when you walk the red carpet on Max’s arm. Cameras flash furiously around you.
“They’re gonna think you’re my new girlfriend,” Max murmurs in your ear.
You laugh. “Let them think what they want.” But secretly, you wish the rumors were true.
The night flies by in a blur of champagne, dancing, and laughter. You and Max stay by each other’s side the whole time, laughing and judging everyone’s outfits. It’s the most fun you’ve had in ages.
On the ride back to the hotel, Max rests his head on your shoulder. “Thank you for coming with me tonight,” he says. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
You kiss the top of his head. “That’s what best friends are for.”
But as you fall asleep that night, you can’t help but wonder if Max will ever see you as more than just his best friend.
***
Not long after coming back home, you’re getting ready for your first date since the FIA Gala. After seeing you all dressed up with Max, your friend Julian finally got the nerve to ask you out. You said yes, partly to stop constantly pining for Max.
You’re meeting Julian for dinner at a nice restaurant downtown. As you put the finishing touches on your makeup, Max lounges on your bed.
“I can’t believe you’re going on a date with Julian,” Max says, scowling. “That guy is so boring.”
You toss a pillow at him. “Stop it, he’s cute! I think it’ll be fun.”
Max catches the pillow and frowns. “What if I took you somewhere way better tonight instead?”
You pause your makeup application. “Wait, like a date?”
“What? No!” Max avoids your eyes. “Just as friends.”
You feel a twinge of disappointment. “Oh. Well, I already made plans with Julian.”
“Fine, go on your lame date,” Max grumbles. “But when Julian puts you to sleep talking about accounting, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
You finish getting ready then head out to meet Julian. He greets you with a bouquet of flowers. “You look beautiful,” he says.
“Thanks!” You reply. The date starts off nicely. Julian is a perfect gentleman over dinner. But as the conversation wears on, you find yourself growing bored. Max was right, Julian is really dull.
Suddenly, you get a text from Max.
SOS come quick! Emergency at the apartment!
You frown, instantly worried. “Sorry Julian, I have to go. My roommate needs me.”
Julian looks disappointed but nods in understanding. “No problem. I’ll walk you out.”
You hurry home, anxious to make sure Max is okay. You burst through the apartment door. “Max! What’s wrong? Are you alright?”
Max looks up casually from the couch. “Oh hey Y/N. What’s up?”
“What’s up? You texted me that there was an emergency!”
“Oh yeah, we ran out of gummy bears,” he says, waving an empty bag. “I was hungry.”
Your jaw drops. “Are you serious, Max? I was on my date!”
Max grins. “Oops, my bad! But I saved you from dying of boredom with that guy. How about we order a pizza instead?”
You want to be mad at him for ruining your date. But looking at his smiling face, you can’t help but laugh. “You’re impossible,” you say, plopping down next to him.
Max just winks and hands you a controller. “Now come on, let’s see if you can actually beat me in Mario Kart this time.”
And just like that, you forget all about Julian and your ruined date. Nothing is nearly as fun as spending time with your best friend.
***
A few days later, you’re getting ready for another date, this time with a guy named Levi who you met online. He’s gorgeous with tattoos and an edgy style, totally your type.
When you tell Max about the date over breakfast, he nearly chokes on his eggs. “You can’t be serious. That dude looks like a complete tool.”
You roll your eyes as you grab your purse. “Don’t pretend you know anything about him. I think he’s hot and he seems cool.”
Max crosses his arms. “Well I don’t like it. How do you know this guy isn’t a total creep?”
“I appreciate your concern,” you say, “But I’m a big girl. I can handle myself on a date.”
Max opens his mouth to retort but you hold up a hand. “Nope, I don’t want to hear it! I’m running late as it is.” You give Max a quick hug. “Don’t wait up!”
You meet Levi at a trendy speakeasy bar downtown. He looks even hotter than his Tinder pics, with arm tattoos peeking out from under his leather jacket.
“Hey gorgeous,” he says with a crooked smile. He leans in for a lingering kiss on your cheek.
You blush. “Hi yourself.” Maybe Max was wrong about this guy.
You have a great time with Levi. The drinks are strong and the conversation is easy. After a few hours, Levi asks if you want to get out of there.
“I’d love to see your apartment,” you say with a flirtatious glance.
Levi grins. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
He pays the tab and you start walking to his place. As you turn a corner, you run straight into someone, nearly falling over.
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorr-Max? What are you doing here?”
Max steadies you with his hands. “Y/N! Fancy running into you!”
You stare at Max in disbelief. “Did you follow me?”
Max avoids your gaze. “What? No, of course not. I was just in the neighborhood.”
You cross your arms. “I find that hard to believe.”
You stare at him in disbelief. Levi pipes up from behind you. “Uh, do you two know each other?”
“Unfortunately yes,” you reply tightly, not taking your eyes off Max.
Max finally meets your stare, his jaw clenched. “I was worried about you, okay? This guy looks like bad news.”
You scowl at him. “That’s not your call to make. I’m allowed to go on dates without you ruining them.”
Max’s shoulders slump. “I know, I’m sorry. I just care about you and want you to be safe.” He glances at Levi again uncertainly.
You soften a bit, seeing the genuine concern in Max’s eyes. You put a hand on his arm. “I appreciate you looking out for me, but I’ll be okay. See you at home later.”
You turn to Levi, who looks understandably confused. You loop your arm through his. “Shall we keep going?”
But as you walk away, the playful mood from earlier is gone. Levi tries to make conversation, but you’re preoccupied thinking about Max and the sad look on his face.
Levi invites you up to his apartment still, but your heart’s not in it anymore. You make an excuse and head home, feelings conflicted.
Max is on the couch when you storm in. “Hey! How was the date?”
You don’t answer, just grab a pillow and start smacking him with it.
“Ow!” Max holds up his hands, laughing. “What was that for?”
“You know exactly what it was for, you sneaky jerk! Sabotaging my date again.”
Max grins up at you impishly. “Maybe I just happened to be in the neighborhood.”
You keep hitting him with the pillow, but end up collapsing on the couch next to him, both of you breathless with laughter.
“You’re the worst,” you say between giggles.
Max drapes his arm around your shoulders. “Yeah but admit it, you love me anyway.”
You sigh and nestle against him. “Unfortunately yes, I do.”
And you know that no matter how many dates Max sabotages, he’ll always be your number one.
***
After the last two disastrous dates, you decide to take a break from dating for a while. But your coworker Jess convinces you to give it one more shot with a guy named Liam she met at her gym. Reluctantly, you agree to meet up with him.
The day of the date arrives and you get ready halfheartedly, already anticipating Max’s attempts to sabotage it. Speaking of Max, you realize you haven’t seen him all day, which is odd.
You find a note on the kitchen counter:
Had to fly to Milton Keynes last minute for work. Will be gone all weekend. Have fun on your date.
<3 Max
You’re surprised but also a bit disappointed. While his meddling is annoying, you’re so used to Max being a constant presence in your dating life. It will feel weird doing this without him.
You push that thought aside as you head out to meet Liam at a burger place. When you arrive, you’re pleasantly surprised. Liam is handsome, charming, and easy to talk to.
After lunch, you go on a walk through a nearby park. You’re having such a nice time, you don’t even think about Max. At the end of the date, Liam asks to see you again.
“I’d love to,” you say with a smile. Liam leans in for a sweet goodbye kiss.
As you turn to go, you hear a familiar voice yelling your name. “Y/N! There you are!”
You whirl around to see Max jogging towards you, slightly out of breath.
“Max? What are you doing here? I thought you had that work thing.”
Max shrugs nonchalantly. “Oh, it got canceled last minute.”
Liam looks between you two, confused. “Wait, is this the dude you live with?”
Before you can respond, Max strides up and vigorously shakes Liam’s hand. “Max Verstappen, nice to meet you! I’m Y/N’s … boyfriend.”
Your eyes nearly bug out of your head. “My WHAT?”
“Yeah babe, your boyfriend,” Max says, draping an arm around you. “Sorry I couldn’t make our date today, got held up at work. But who’s this guy you’re with?”
Liam stares wide-eyed at Max’s arm around you. “Uh, I should get going. See you around, Y/N.” He scurries off.
You shove Max away from you, fuming. “What the hell was that? Why did you pretend to be my boyfriend?”
Max shoves his hands in his pockets sheepishly. “I just couldn’t stand the idea of you dating that dude.”
“So you LIED? You scared him off forever!” You poke Max’s chest angrily.
He grabs your hand. “I’m sorry! I don’t know why I did that. I was jealous and I wasn’t thinking straight.”
You search his face and see real remorse in his eyes. Your anger starts to fade.
“Jealous? Why would you be jealous, Max?” Your voice comes out barely above a whisper.
He takes a shaky breath. “Because the truth is, I’m in love with you. As more than a friend. I have been for a long time. Seeing you with those other guys made me realize I couldn’t stand not being with you myself.”
You stand frozen, stunned into silence. Max rubs the back of his neck nervously. “Please say something.”
You finally find your voice again. “Took you long enough, idiot.”
And you grab his shirt and kiss him deeply. Max grins against your lips, wrapping you in his arms.
“No more sabotaging my dates,” you murmur.
“Deal,” Max whispers. “As long as I can be your one and only from now on.”
You answer by kissing him again under the setting sun. At long last, you finally have your dream guy.
***
The next morning, you wake up in Max’s arms, still unable to believe the incredible turn your relationship has taken. Last night after the park, you came home and talked for hours, admitting your true feelings while cuddled up on the couch. You kissed and kissed until you both finally fell asleep tangled together.
Now in the light of day, your worries start to creep in. What if this ruins your friendship? What if you’re not meant to be more than best friends?
You untangle yourself from Max’s embrace and go to make coffee. He finds you a few minutes later on the balcony overlooking the sea.
“Good morning, beautiful,” Max says, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He kisses your shoulder.
You turn in his arms to face him. “Can we talk about this?”
He frowns slightly. “Talk about what?”
You gesture between the two of you. “This new aspect of our relationship. I’m just worried it will mess things up. Maybe we should take a step back and think things through?”
Max’s face falls. “You’re having second thoughts?”
“No, not second thoughts exactly. I care about you so much Max, as my best friend. I don’t want to ruin that.”
Max caresses your cheek. “You could never ruin our friendship. It means everything to me too. But we both deserve to be happy, and I know we can make each other happy in this new way as well. I’m willing to take that chance if you are.”
You search his earnest eyes. He’s right — your connection runs so much deeper than just friendship. And you trust Max. If anyone is worth taking this risk for, it’s him.
You take his hand and intertwine your fingers. “You’re right. I want to make this work.”
Relief washes over Max’s face. He leans in and kisses you softly. “I promise you won’t regret it. I’ll be the best boyfriend ever!”
You laugh. “Well in that case, take me on our first official date tonight!”
“It would be my pleasure.” Max strokes your hair. “Thank you for taking a chance on me. On us. I know we’re meant to be, schatje. I’ve loved you all my life.”
“I’ve loved you all my life too,” you whisper. And you know that no matter what happens, your bond with Max will never break.
The future has yet to be written, but you’re ready to face it hand-in-hand with the man who has always had your heart.
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Was there any point in Hannibal when Hannibal was “done” with Will and didn’t want anything to do with him anymore? The only occasion I can think of is when Hannibal ran away to Florence, but in truth, he expects Will to find him there, to go after him. He also tried to open Will’s head, but that was a half-attempt, we know Hannibal didn’t actually want to move forward with it. So even though he was truly hurt and upset with Will in these situations that still wasn’t enough to make him be “done” with Will, to never want to see or be with Will again. Will never had to win him over again, let’s say.
Or do you think there was a time in the show when Hannibal had been fed up with Will and wanted to end things between them forever? And to be free of Will for good?
And what about Will? Was the breakup scene genuine or did he just break up with Hannibal to make him surrender?
Sorry this is super long, I love your metas and value your opinion so much. Thank you.
Hey, thanks so much, both for your words and for an interesting ask!
I agree with your view, I don't believe Hannibal ever felt done with Will. From their first meeting, he was fascinated and enamoured, and it only got worse from there on, gaining depth with each important moment.
I think Hannibal wanted to be done with Will after the events of S2. However, he never succeeded in actually feeling it. The sharpest point of betrayal happened in S2 finale, yet even then, Hannibal cut Will in a way that allowed him to survive. He wasn't willing to kill him and fully let go of him, and being in Europe with Bedelia didn't help. I love watching him during this arc: in E1, he really tries to enjoy himself, but he just can't. He's living a seemingly perfect life, but he's moody, chaotic and impulsive, and misery shines through occasionally. It's not long before Hannibal's longing for Will becomes so intense that he succumbs to it and starts drawing Will’s and others' attention, turning suicidal in this process.
I know many people adore the scene from E5, where Jack beats Hannibal up, but this is actually the only scene I really struggle with watching. I don't feel satisfied or gleeful there - yes, Hannibal deserved it, but it's also clear that he feels so down emotionally that he doesn't bother to actually fight back. He's tired, upset, and disillusioned, and seeing such a life-loving, happy-go-lucky man plunge into such a hopeless depression is difficult to me. Love for Will and his inability to let go brought Hannibal to the very bottom.
Same with Dolce: like you said, it was a half-attempt. Hannibal might have wanted to be done with Will again here, but like in Mizumono, he found himself incapable of realizing this wish. Will is in his blood, he can't shake him off.
As for Will, ooh, everything about him is always so complicated! Was Will ever done with Hannibal? No. Did he ever want to be done with him? Practically all the time. Did he think he managed to overcome him at some points? Probably. Will is notorious for lying to himself so effectively that he buys his own BS.
Regarding surrender, I think the break-up scene was mostly genuine. Will truly needed a break after their latest round of mutual hurt. He's a very conflicted person and sometimes he needs a lot of time to analyze everything and figure out what he feels. I think he is lying to Hannibal later, when he claims he manipulated him into giving himself up. For one thing, this was a pretty unpredictable reaction. From what Will knows, during their last interactions, Hannibal lashed out violently in Mizumono out of the feeling of betrayal and because Will tried to take his freedom from him. This freedom clearly meant the world for him - he and Will discussed this. In Dolce, Hannibal felt betrayed and tried to kill Will again (in Will’s view). What would make Will realize with such clarity that if he rejects Hannibal again, he’s going to change his approach and give himself up? Maybe a subconscious part of him hoped for it, but I don’t see it as 100% deliberate manipulation. Not to mention that he looks surprised to me when he sees Hannibal’s surrender.
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Benched part 4
The first biggest challenge was defiantly the walking, under doctors orders the crutches were retired and Devon was instructed to slowly start to move more and more. But even this was challenge, after a couple of steps he was struggling, his legs felt weaker and with every step there was this burning sensation in his bones. He would not even make it halve way through the doctors mandatory excerise routines before he had to call it quits. What was going on, he was a star athlete how was he letting a couple of steps be the boss of him, sure he had been out of practice for a while but Devon was not going to let this stop him. So he tried again and again, until he was blue in the face and felt sweat in places he didn’t know he could sweat and after each routine he felt exhausted but luckily for him the doctor had said nothing about cutting down his food intake, so chief continued to pull out all the stops making sure their employer never went hungry.
The second big challenge came about when it was finally time to start physio, sure Devon had been doing some small exercises here and there but under doctors orders, now that Devon could confidently walk about on his feet it was time for physio, and it was time for Devon to finally leave the house and he soon found out that eating like a pig for the last 6-months of course meant nothing would fit his large over-fed body . He tried fruitlessly but none of his old clothes would even budge, his trousers wouldn’t get past his thighs and his shirts wouldn’t buckle, he was just too big, too round and far too fat. God - he thought to himself this bulk has really hit its limit, he felt enormous and he definitely looked it, his gut was so massive it ripped his shirts into shreds when Ajay tried to squeeze him in it. With the physio waiting across London, he was left trying to fit into Ajay clothes, and even they were a tight fit, there was no way he was fatter than Ajay but alas even in his chubby lovers designer kit he still felt suffocated.
The doctor had organised one of the best physio in all of London, they had all been sworn to secrecy and all that staff and been forced to sign a nda, they were all left puzzling their heads about what could be such a secret, until of course the lift doors opened and outstepped a man who looked like he hadn’t been in a gym in years, let alone the star footballer of one of the country’s most prestige teams. They were expecting a man who was once the most eligible bachelor in all of Europe with he his gorgeous face and ripped muscular body and here stood a man in clothes to small to fit their wearers massive frame, a body that fit a man that looked like he had been done nothing but stuff his face day in and out .
“Alight Devon, lets see what we working with” said the lead physio instructing Devon to the scales
Stepping on them, he couldn’t even see the scales as his gut blocked his view by a good amount of fat ,
“Gosh, I mean uhh 130kg”
“What, are you taking the piss” , that couldn’t be right, the numbers had to be a lie
“Im sorry, sir but that this is one the most accurate scales out there’
Devon was left with no words, he simply mustered by the dirty bulk line and followed the very in shape physio to the changing rooms, compared to him Devon looked massive, almost double the size in width. Finally in the the changing rooms he was finally given some fitting clothes that fitted around his huge fat body, he dared not to look at the size but a small flash of Xs caught his eyes as he grabbed for them with his tubby fingers. Checking himself out in the mirror was a very sobering process, what had he done to himself, he was far form fat and well into the obese relm , looking at his massive gut and wider frame the memories of his once fitter body flooded his mind, however as he felt his fat gut up, prodding it and squeezing it his mind was filled with all the good food he had stuffed into to over the last year and damn did it make him feel hunger.
He was snapped out of the images of plates of food and desserts, when the young fit physio , known as Tom , popped round the corner telling Devon it was time to start. This all lead to the next big challenge, sure walking had been tough but compared to this that was spoonful of sugar, they had started it slow on the treadmill, a good pace was established, but god did it feel different there was so much more of him, he was heavier and massive. From the fat in his gut that swayed with each step to the rolls of fat in his arms that rubbed against his moobs. All over on this this treadmill he felt his fat body coming to alive, and a bit of him enjoyed and he felt he felt his dick stir under his fat balloon gut. But then Tom seeing the grin of Devon’s face took the initiative to to raise the speed a tad , just a bit forcing him to pick up the pace and jog, for the first few seconds as he jumped from foot to foot, Devon felt free, but then it started, the burning in his lungs, the stabbing in his feet, the sweat piling up. He had quickly used up his once amazing stamina and endurance , his fat body was just too heavy, each jog felt like he was pulling tons, before long he was panting for breathe, red in the face. Tom saw how hard his job was going to be right then and therem as Devon collapsed on the floor exhausted.
“Come on big, guy, we’ve still got a good hour left to shift this weight’ Tom chuckled as he slapped Devon’s fat gut that was now exposed form his kit, sweaty and flabby.
Devon couldn’t even muster the breath to tell him to fuck off, but what he hated how much his dick was loving it. What followed was one of the longest training session of his life, everything was reminder of how out of shape he had fallen, sit ups were nearly impossible with his fat gut weighing him down making him have to roll to his side to even get up, and push- ups were far out of the question with his stubby arms not being able to lift his fat body high enough to get his fat gut of the floor, star jumps shook the walls and there wasn’t a bike there he could fit his fat arse onto. The only possible equipment he could fit onto was the bench next to the vending machine, Tom decide to look the over way as as out of breath Devon dropped his blubbery frame on it and popped out a few chocolate bars.
“ Right there big guy , i think that’s enough damage for today” Tom chuckled placing another firm hand on Devon’s ample gut
Devon was furious, partially at himself for letting himself get this bad and also at Tom who seemed to be enjoying this display of unfitness.
“Hold - on “ Devon said in pants as finished off his chocolate bar
He wasn’t going to go down without a fight, I know what to show him he thought , he stepped on the treadmill determined to show Tom that his was still the star athlete he was a year ago
“If you say so”
Starting up, Devon felt confident, he had already lasted longer than his previous attempts, sure he felt on the edge, but he kept jogging. A smirk appeared on his round race, that would show him Tom, who did he think he was talking to. However as he smugness grew, his old confidence grew too, and without thought he went to uped the speed to reasonable run, and the moment he pressed those buttons he knew he had made a grave mistake. The treadmill revered to life, and Devon led on to dear life tried to keep up, he tried to match the pace, but his obese body failed him once again, his belly became like a pendulum swing up and down moving his fat in all directions, his layer of fat pecs followed in motion, followed by every bulging fatty part of his body. He was just too fat, his lungs couldn’t keep up, he was so panting for dear life, all over his sweat greased him up like a hog in an oven. His kit rolled up over his heavy gut and his shorts got caught between his large thighs, he just couldn’t keep up he was just too fat. He felt himself about to collapse again
“Alright tubby, I think you’ve showed us enough” Tom said as he stepped in to Devons rescue pulling the red tag, just in time as Devon was hit with a wave of light headness and when the treadmill finally ceased its run Devon felt it legs give up to and himself collapse on the floor
He lay there on the floor, a doughy mountainous lumps of fat panting for breathe, he couldn’t move pinned done by his massive girth, Devon was humiliated as he laid there sweaty and red, trying to get up was futile with all his energy used up
“Ah better luck next time big guy’ Tom said as he playfully slapped Devons fat gut admiring how it jiggled and settled.
“Come on lets get you up’,
“Wow big guys, looks like I’m gonna need a hand”, Tom laughed as he called over to some assistants to help heave Devon up and of the floor..
What a shit show, in the changing room Devon had retreated to the bench to catch his breath, God I’ve really let myself go haven’t I, he thought as he rested his hand on his gut.
“See you next time’ Tom waved as he left leaving in a tight muscle shirt that showed of his impressive build
“Yh’ - was all Devon got out in-between laboured breathes, he used to have a body like that, now here he was a fat arse on the bench catching his breathe - right he thought to himself this is it the fattest I am ever going to be now, this old gut is going into hibernating .
But those fighting words quickly disappeared when Devon came home, the moment he waddled up the stairs and opened the front door he was hit with the smell of chefs cooking, and like clockwork his thoughts of cutting back where thrown out the window and replaced with whatever delicious food chef had cooked up. At the dining table, he just couldn’t draw himself, dish after dish chief brought out more and more food, that his stomach demanded.
“Alight babe, I think I’ve done enough damage’
“What” Ajay said looking up form his food with a mouth full of pasta
“I mean look at me, I’m not the spitting image of health right now’ Devon empathised taking in his fat body
“Non-sense, your plenty healthy and besides what those that make me then’ - Ajay chuckled as he rubbed his fat rolls
“I think you just need some motivation, and besides after your long day at the gym you need your fuel - And I need my man’
And before Devon could protest, Ajay was on his knees blowing Devon off, sure things were a but different now, with Ajay being blocked fully by Devon’s fat gut, but even with all this new fat they had packed on to each others body it was still as amazing as it was on the first day. Devon could contain himself it was just so good, and just when he thought couldn’t get better, chief brought out dessert - triple coated chocolate cake.
As the weeks rolled on Devon continued to go to his gym session with Tom, but he also continued to pig out just the same way as he always had , he told himself he deserved it, all those gym sessions were just too long and he need his fuel fro his next session of course , but he knew secretly deep down that the food was just to good to quit. Devon was definitely getting his strength back but the fat gut of his was going any where soon, in fact Devon could have sworn it was getting bigger so much so that after a good couple of sessions he found himself needing new kit as gut continued to bulge out and his arse just wouldn’t fit in the old kit, when he asked Tom about it, Tom had told him that of course that was happening he was simply packing on more muscle and that Devon had nothing to worry out in and should continue as normal espially drinking the shakes that Tom left out for him after each session.
After a good couple of months , Devon saw it was only right to get to know Tom better after all they spend sports much time together and he grew fond of Tom’s teasing remarks about him,so he saw to it to bringing Tom ever for a dinner one day.
When the day came Devon saw to it that chief pulled out all the stops, he had told Tom it would just be casual dinner but Tom had somehow talked Devon into making it into a whole formal affair with suits and champagne. Devon knew straight away, that the tens of thousands pound suits he used to stroll round in at balls were long out of question, so he once again saw to it to ordering his tailer over, sure his tailor had not seen Devon since long before his accident but a man of his pay- grade was well known for his professionalism. So as Ajay and Devon stood their fat guts out overflowing in lard, the tailer made no comment and simply dressed them up in the finest suitsm men they size could still fit into.
Standing there in front of the mirror, dressed in the nines in his fine suit, Devon felt confident a confidence he hadn’t felt in a long time, sure the man standing in the mirror was a rounded out ball of fat, but damn the way he filled out his suit made he look good, he was still the handsome footballer just now under many many layers of fat he told himself . And Ajay seemed to agreed, telling Devon he was still the most handsome man he had ever seen, rubbing his hands over his meaty thighs, whispering in his ears but how good he looked. And just when Devon was about to let Ajay get it, the door bell rang - Tom was here.
Opening the door, he was greeted by a very good looking man in suit, Tom had gotten a fresh haircut, shaved his morning stubble and swapped the gym clothes for a very nice fitted English suit, that he filled out perfectly. Devon remembered when he looked that good in a suit, the way Tom’s muscles were hinted at in the suit arms and his square arse filled out the back. Standing there he felt massive, his much bigger frame emphasised different areas of his suit, from his heavyset gut to his double chin poking out the collar.
“Wow, you clean up nicely- huh big guy”
“Thank you, oh this old thing was just sitting in the cupboard’ Devon laughed thinking about how more expensive suits were now that he couldn’t touch his toes
“And you must be the massive Ajay’ Tom laughed going in for a French kiss on Ajay chubby cheeks, leaning over Ajay’s chubby gut which his trim muscular body.
“God, Devon has told me so much about you, you’re even bigger I mean better in person’
After the formalities, small talk was engaged, where Devon learned that Tom had studied nutrition at uni and was freshly in London starting out. Devon and Ajay standing there must have looked like a massive fat hogs next to the lean Tom, Devon thought as Tom humoured Ajay, and if Tom was handsy in the gym he was even more so now, giving their respective guts a good pat and rub after ever joke.
But before Devon could think more about it, the bell was rung and dinner was being served, walking in the dining room had been transformed into a former candlelit scene, it felt very dapper and posh- and God Devon thought he was definietly was going to have to give chief another pay rise for this whole ordeal. Tom was sat opposite them and the two much bigger men dwarfed Tom side with their emmense fatness
And as chief brought out their dishes dinner commenced, the wine was good, the company even better but the food was amazing. Devon and Ajay’s plate were spotless after each course, where’s Tom were littered with remains for the previous courses. But Devon couldn’t care he was founding himself getting more and more aroushed by Tom’s crude comments that he blurted out now and again
“Wow you chief really cooks up some fine grub - no wonder you so got so big’
“You guys really now how to put it away”
“Damn and I thought I ad a big appetite”
Devon didn’t know why what Tom was saying was turning him on so much, but he knew that his devious words were also working on Ajay who had to keep shuffling in his chair to move his tubby gut away from his crotch. Maybe it was because he wasn’t used to being teased like this like this but maybe it was also because of who it was coming from, This fit young lad who had been training him in the gym was now bombarding him with these dirty remarks. And as the courses kept coming, the dirtier they got.
“Hey there tubby, I think you left something on your plate’
“Geez what a fat-arse, leave any food for the rest of us”
“No, go on then you take it, looking at you overweight arse, has taken me of my appetite, besides to fill a fat gut like that you must need a truck load for of food’
Ajay and Devon didn’t know what was going on, but they kept eating more and more, until they were eating more than they had ever eaten before, Tom’s mean and flirty comments made them want to eat more and more. And after unbutton the first couple of buttons on his shirt and taking of his jacket, Tom cockney accent reared its head as he stripped down form his formal attire, and it was all so hot. Devon felt his gut get more and bloated until he felt the buttons tightening and his gut gaping through, him and Ajay were being stuffed to beyond limits by this cockney muscular lad and it all reached its peak, - When a stuffed Ajay couldn’t finish his plate of food
“What tubs, bitten of more than you can chew’ “Here let me help’
And in fine motion, Tom climbed over the table, cups and dishes clattered about as he reached over and grabbed his plate and held it to Ajay fat flushed flash
“Here piggy, eat up”
What was going on, Devon was completely in shock, but seeing Ajay opening his mouth and letting Tom force-feed him the rest of his plates, made his dick hard in way he didn’t know was possible
“And don’t you worry fatty, you time is next’ Tom laughed as he stuffed Ajay tight with food and then ran his tongue down his face. Tom then proceeded to rip Ajay’s shirt of freeing the mountain of brown fat that hid there
“Look at this beauty, ahh Devon where have u been hiding him’
Devon watched in pure lust as he saw Tom explore his lovers fattened up from, slapping his gut and knead it, Ajay of course was in pure heaven
“Here tubby let me give you your just deserts”
And just like that Ajay fell onto his knees, as Tom took down his pants revealing his 8 inch pink cock
“Come on fatty eat up’
Ajay slobbered Tom’s cock up, going to town on all 8 inches
“That right fatty eat up’
“All your good for your now is cock sucking - you fat fuck”
Tom grabbed Ajays rolls of fat and his fat pecs and he came straight down his throat
“There piggy eat up”
Devon couldn’t control himself, letting out a large moan of his mouth followed by larger burp
“Ahh looks like this piggy over here feel negalated, don’t you worry piggy’
“Don’t you worry, I’ve had my eyes on you a while’
Devon was too shocked and stuffed to move
“God look at you, a fat lump of dough, you used to the hottest man in the nation now look at you tubby’
‘ A fat pig ready for the slaughter’
And with that, Devon was lost in Tom’s words, as Toms stripped down to reveal his hot muscular body, Devon was like putty, Tom pushed him out of his chair onto the floor, his fat gut breaking his fall, he felt as Tom stripped down his pants, putting his fatty meaty chunky legs in the air, Tom yanked of his massive underwear exposing his fat arse
“Ahh look at all the fat, man were have you been hiding thi’
Tom chuckled as he slapped Devons hippo sized rear.
An then it all happened so quick, but Devon felt Tom massive cock be ramped up his arse, he felt toms muscular arms grab his rolls of fat and jiggle them and then followed by the thrusting that was so hard it made his whole body jiggle. Devon was in heaven, he was stuffed behind his widest dreams and being fucked by Tom, and then when it couldn’t get any better. He saw Ajay rise up come over and bury Devon his his fat gut, opening in his mouth and showing his brown cock down this throat. He was their pig, fattened up and ready to be fed.
After that night of bliss, what followed next was an even more fattening string of months, Devon was fucked hard all over by of his lovers, at the gym Tom would tease him relentlessly for his out of shape body and lack of fitness, then at night Tom would punish him by fucking him till he couldn’t move. Chief cooked up even more and more food, filling the nights with feasts and feasts, and Devon and Ajay grew fatter and fatter until new dining room chairs had to be ordered and beds installed. It was heaven, but one day as Devon wake up in their now super king sized bed with Tom naked, wrapped up between his two pigs, the phone rang
“Ah Devon, long time no see”
Who was this
“I’ve been told by you doctor that you cast was long off and you’ve been going to the best physio for months- no easier way to say this but we need you back on the team and you must surely be back in fighting state by now ”
What no, what was going on, and as Devon laid there in bed under the mountains of fat he had stuffed onto his body, his feet long hidden behind that mass that was his fat protruding gut, his fat love handles weighing him on either side and his chins swallowing his neck his breathing was struggling to keep up with this dilemma.
“Well come on , champ we need you back asap”
This was going to be the final challenge
To be continued in the final part
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I’m sorry but the timeline absolutely does not add up for Taylor to have cheated with matty or left joe for him (??????). they were not on the same continent at any point between the show where she did a surprise appearance in January (and stayed at the arena longer than he did based on that one New Yorker cover story) and the eras shows in nashville. February she was in LA for Grammys and tour rehearsals while he was off tour in the UK. January, March, April he was touring constantly across Europe, Latin America, Australia, and Asia. so unless you’re saying they fucked once in January (and matty didn’t even wait for her so they could go home together), engaged in three months of phone sex that taylor enjoyed so much that she dumped joe for it, and reunited in may for a month (in which case… idk what to tell you), they didn’t cheat lmao. it’s clear that they did reconnect over the phone in some way in april, and while some flirting easily could have gone on beforehand, that hardly constitutes cheating or leaving joe for matty
except for how they were in studio recording Midnights together so I really don't know what to tell you. Like he explicitly said there were songs recorded for Midnights that didn't make the cut. Also the "surprise appearance" clearly means they were yk talking? Actively? Back in Jan? Because I don't think Taylor went to do a 75 gig because of the financial benefits so obviously she did it as a friend, like she did Haim's show. But unlike Haim, she went on to say she loves Matty so....
So in the version you're presenting here's what happened: Taylor and Matty had a thing that ended and they stopped being friends and hanging out, in fact it was awkward between them, then Taylor reconnected with Matty at some point in the last few years, they developed a purely platonic connection this time round, this was solidified by them working together AS FRIENDS, however Taylor wrote a love-ish song about their original relationship AT AROUND THE SAME TIME, then FOR TOTALLY UNRELATED REASONS THAT HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH MATTY AT ALL, she broke up with Joe and publicly announced this on Matty's birthday (coincidence? Possible but a pretty wacky one since Taylor decided when to announce, like it wasn't leaked anywhere). Then they started talking again (why'd they stop talking tho they were besties back in Jan?? Surely they've been talking October through to now??) and SUDDENLY out of NOWHERE realised they wanted to try date again and then The Sun leaked this and then even though this was just a FWB thing between two besties they both mouthed "I love you" at each other on stage and then they broke up and stopped being friends.
I'm sorry that is WAY too convoluted to be likely.
What I personally think happened is Taylor was miserable with Joe, her and Matty started talking again through the Jack and Phoebe etc friendship connections, they were vibing and making music together, she was reminiscing on what could've been back then and so was he, Taylor was getting a lot more attention from him than she was back home and she was in her feelings, maybe some physical stuff happened too but maybe it was all this emotional shit that had to have happened for Question to exist, and eventually Taylor decided to full on end it with Joe and clearly immediately decided to be with Matty but something that seemed cool when it was all just talking and reminiscing and fantasising doesn't always work like that irl and this clearly was a lot better before they were actually in a relationship.
That relationship clearly didn't come out of nowhere.
If what you're truthering is no PHYSICAL cheating between them in the early months of 2023 based on dates and locations, I'm not about to counter truther because it'd take a lot of work to prove they were "never" in the same place at the same time. But if you're trying to say she didn't have an emotional affair with Matty and he wasn't a factor in deciding to finally call it with Joe - which may have been a good thing because she needed a push clearly like she wanted to leave him, she needed a reason - then idk what to tell you.
It's also, as I've pointed out above, not as simple as a pure Getaway Car because she was talking to him for literal months and months and months and months and then she dated him so excuse me for seeing that as an emotional affair.
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PINTXOS-PERFECT
Believe it or not, there are one or two people out there who aren’t inspired by the idea of San Sebástian.
The joy of choosing pintxos from the counter ? ‘Health and safety hazard.’ But everything’s fresh! ‘Don’t fancy it’. What about the delicious spider-crab tarts? ‘Don’t like crab’. Gateau Basque? ‘Now I do like cheesecake - but why no biscuit base?’
Thankfully I’ve only experienced this pintxos prejudice from a handful of people. For the rest of you: if you don’t yet know that San Sebástian is the culinary capital of Europe, with more Michelin starred restaurants per capita than anywhere else on the continent, then just tell me which rock you’ve been living under and I’ll send my people round. With delicious morsels of wild mushroom. I’m not a monster after all.
Then there are those who love San Sebástian, have visited it several times, but have only the vaguest recommendations of where to eat. Yes I know. Everywhere is good. But just telling me ‘it’s all about the pintxos’ (no shit Sherlock) isn’t really giving me much to go on. So, for those of you venturing to Spain’s most edible city for the first time, or just can’t remember where you ate last time, here are my top recommendations.
First of all, get yourself on a good food tour. And we went on the best, thanks to a proper, detailed recommendation from my mate Mykayla at work. The first thing you learn about Eskerne, founder of Discover San Sebastian is that she is more revered than the Mayor- and knows more about the history and gastronomy of the region than any mayor. She met us at the Hotel de Londres at 10.30 sharp and deposited us in the park over four hours later, sated and gasping for superlatives about the food we had eaten. This was a PhD in Pintxos - spider crab tartlets, mind-boggling asian-fusion scallops with samphire, wild mushrooms mixed with egg yolk, octopus on sauteed potato…On and on it went, setting off many several taste bombs in my mouth. Do yourselves a favour and book her as soon as you have booked your flights.
But you don’t just have to eat pintxos. My daughter found Bar El Kbzon near the City’s surfing beach. For my money the best of San Sebástian’s restaurants: cafe-informal with stunning views of the beach at sunset, and a menu we ended up ordering in its entirety: best black pudding I’ve ever tasted, heavenly hake and pig’s ear on borlotti beans just three of the reasons to go back. The chef likes Thai food so there were some inspired flavours going on in all of these - plus he makes a mean pad thai if you fancy that.
Great places to eat are not limited to the city centre. My cousin and her husband took us to Kako Jatetxea, a bistro with classical charm in a town called Astigarraga, just outside the city centre and famous for its cider houses (the main drink of the region along with Txakoli - more of this later). They had a lot going on in their menu but you can’t go wrong with their surf and turf - a whole pan-fried turbot in a butter sauce and a mammoth rib of beef.
Want to find that ultimate Gateau Basque? Eskerne pointed us in the direction of La Viña and advised us to order just a half portion each. The aggressive rubbernecking required to get to the counter and get attention meant I forgot the Spanish for ‘half portion’ and emerged with the full three slices for each of us. It didn’t matter in the end as we demolished them all in a matter of minutes. We also forgot to order the Ximenez sherry to pour over the gateau - Mykayla says this is a must.
And finally, for super fine dining head to Galerna Jan Edan. I usually prefer generous rustic food to a degustation menu but this one gave us a night to remember: imaginative creations with intense flavours from prawn, pork belly, hake and a strawberry and violet ice cream that over-stimulated my taste buds in the best possible way. All washed down by the region’s signature Txakoli wine (you say Txakoli, I say Chocoli, let’s just pour another glass and forget about it).
There are hundreds upon hundreds of pintxos bars, restaurants, cafes and gelateria crammed into this petite, beautiful and dramatic-looking city. Don't say I didn't tell you - and try making these dishes to get you in the mood.
Crab Tarts
I have done my best to recreate the flavours of the version I inhaled in Ganbera pintxos bar. And guaranteed no soggy bottom-pastry. Serves 4 as a starter.
Ingredients:
250g ready-made shortcrust pastry (or make your own)
3 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
225g white crab meat
Generous tbsp. brown crab meat
1 banana shallot, chopped finely
1 carrot, chopped finely
4 cloves garlic, chopped finely
250ml shellfish stock
60 ml cognac
3 medium tomatoes, skinned seeded and chopped
1 tsp chilli flakes
1 bunch parsley
25g fresh breadcrumbs, browned in a little oil and tossed with chopped parsley
Knob of butter
How to make.
Heat the oven to 200C.
Roll out the pastry and cut 8 rounds to fill 8 individual tart cases. Pop the tins onto a baking sheet and bake blind for 10-12 minutes, remove from the oven and put on the side to cool in their tins. When cool, remove from the tins and place the pastry shells back on the baking sheet.
To make the filling. Heat 3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil in a frying pan and saute the onions, carrot and chilli flakes for 10 minutes. Add the garlic and fry for another minute or so, then add the tomatoes, salt and pepper, cognac, shellfish stock and 200ml water. Bring to a simmer and continue to simmer until the sauce has reduced and you can drag your wooden spoon through it without the mixture closing up quickly.
Turn off the heat, add the crab meats and a bunch of chopped parsley. Cool the mix.
Turn up the oven to 220C. Fill each of the tart shells with the crab mixture then top each tart with the breadcrumbs and a small knob of butter. Pop back into the oven for 6-8 minutes until crisp and hot. Serve immediately.
Two Easy Peasy Pintxos
As a parting gift from our tour, Eskerne gave me a copy of Josema Azpeita an Ritxar Tolosa’s The Pintxo Trail. None of the recipes give proportions so I have done the hard work for you while adapting them slightly. Serves 2-3
Pintxos with cream cheese, honey and walnuts
For each person cut 3 slices of a baguette loaf at a diagonal and toast lightly and rub with a clove of garlic. Cool slightly then top with cream cheese with herbs (philly is fine), top with a couple of walnut halves and drizzle with honey. Complete with a sprinkling of parsley and season.
Esclavida (catalan vegetables) with anchovy
Heat the oven to 150C.Baste an aubergine and a red pepper in extra virgin olive oil, pop onto a baking tray and into the oven for 20 minutes. Remove and then skin the aubergine and red pepper and cut each into 4 slices. Toast the bread and rub with a clove of garlic. Drizzle the toast with olive oil and season. Place the broad strips of cooked vegetable on top and top with two marinated anchovies (buy these from the supermarket chiller cabinet, don’t use ones from a jar). Make a quick garlic dressing with olive oil, garlic and parsley and drizzle over the top.
Gateau Basque
This version of La Viña’s classic is from Brat restaurant in London via Claire Ptak’s latest confection Love is a Pink Cake. A genius addition of tapioca flour and cornflour gives a wonderful texture. Serves 6.
Ingredients:
450g cream cheese
125g caster sugar
3 large eggs
250g double cream
1 tbsp. Crème fraiche
1 tbsp. Vanilla extract
1 tbsp. Tapioca flour
1 tbsp, cornflour
¼ tsp. Sea salt
How to make:
Preheat the oven to 230C.
Line a 15cm round and 8cm deep cake tin with a single sheet of baking paper that comes up further than the sides of the tin - this caters for the dramatic rise of the gateau.
Whisk together the cream cheese and sugar, add the eggs one at a time and continue whisking between each addition until fully incorporated.
In a separate bowl, mix together the remaining ingredients, then add to the cheese mixture and mix everything until smooth and well combined.
Pour the mixture into the prepared tin and bake in the oven for 40 minutes until black on top, puffed but still has a little wobble. Cool for at least an hour until set, then serve at room temperature.
This goes magically with some poached plums which you can make while the gateau is in the oven.
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somebody comes and hits you with an ooh la la la, ooh la la la, ooh la la la, ooh
Marvel || Wade Wilson/Peter Parker || Part 4
notes: Title from 'Mad Sounds' by Arctic Monkeys. Many thanks to babygato for her beta on this chapter.
this fic is also available on ao3
warnings: none
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← previous: Part 3
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The bagel shop is three blocks east and one block south of Wade's apartment. It doesn't have a name; there is simply the word 'BAGELS' in huge block letters on the front window, the paint old and flaking. There are no hours posted on the door, just an askew white-and-blue sign that can be flipped to declare 'OPEN' or 'CLOSED'. When Wade steps inside, a few bells on a rope clatter against the glass, signaling his entrance. A bored teenager with an acid green crop of hair glances briefly up from their phone, while the old man behind the counter greets in Polish,
"Wade, you ugly son of a bitch! Welcome once more to my shop! It is lovely, simply fucking lovely, to see you on this fine Wednesday morning. What can I get for you? On the house, of course, for once saving my shit terrible cat when he climbed the telephone pole and refused to come the fuck down!"
Or at least, that's what Wade interprets it as. His Polish was never good; he spent a grand total of four days in Gdańsk while he was special forces, and all he learned was how to swear, order alcohol, and ask someone if they knew where the library was.
"Mikolaj!" Wade returns warmly in English, spreading his arms wide. "It's good to see you too, buddy! How's the Grzegorz? Still scratching innocent men in the jugular?"
Mikolaj says something that is decidedly not directions to the public library and lobs a bagel at Wade's head with scary accuracy and speed. Wade catches it before it makes contact with his face and—wasting neither second nor glance—he takes a huge bite. He groans, a borderline pornographic sound, as he registers the combination of flavor and texture. Mikolaj truly makes the best bagels in all of Queens, from the vaguely crispy exterior to the wonderfully chewy interior.
"I'm gonna need an assorted dozen of your delightful creations, Miko my man," Wade says around a large mouthful of mushed up bagel. "And like, two tubs of cream cheese. Got a cute boy at home, you know? Gotta let him know I can provide."
Wade winks. Mikolaj continues to talk in rapid Polish, his round face becoming steadily more red, even as he grabs a large waxed bakery bag and randomly grabs bagels from the wire baskets behind the counter. Wade mentally translates:
"A cute fucking boy at home? How wonderful for you, Wade! I was a young man once, and fucked my way through most of Eastern Europe, before meeting the love of my life and settling the fuck down. Oh, what wonderful times! I hope you too can meet the one who makes your cock the most happy. Fucking fuck shit fuck damn bitch!"
... Or something similar. As mentioned, Wade really only knows the naughty words.
By the register, Mikolaj slams the bag and a couple tubs of cream cheese down on the white formica counter. Then he leans over, pointing one of his big, fat fingers at Wade, the blunt tip less than an inch away from Wade's nose, and growls something that makes his enormous mustache quiver.
"Dziadek says he doesn't want you to come back," Orel drones, barely looking up from their Twitter feed as they translate. "He says it upsets Grzegorz."
"Pretty sure he said that if I come back he would chop my balls off with a rusty spoon. Which, like, joke's on him, testicular cancer already took one so he'd have about half the satisfaction."
"I didn't need to know that," Orel says drolly.
Wade fishes his wallet out from the back pocket of his jeans and takes out one of the crumpled twenties. He extends the cash to Orel, but Mikolaj slaps Wade's wrist sharply before he starts yelling again, meaty arms thrown heavenwards as he thunders.
Orel faithfully translates, "Dziadek also says your money isn't good here."
"Not to like, question your fluency or anything, but I distinctly heard the phrase 'dirty fucking money'."
"Paraphrasing." Still on their phone, Orel shrugs. "I'm not allowed to swear while I'm working."
"You poor sweet child," Wade sympathizes, taking another twenty out of his wallet and shoving both into the tip jar. "Please take this humble offering as compensation. And another tip, though non-monetary: unionize. Demand better work conditions. Do you even get paid vacations or sick leave?"
"It's a family business, Wade."
"Tough luck." Wade clicks his tongue and grabs his items off the counter. Then, "Same time next week, Miko?"
Mikolaj, who has wandered back over to the wire baskets, grabs another bagel and chucks it. This one is rosemary and sun-dried tomato, a favorite of Wade's, and—as he is currently holding a dozen bagels in one hand and two tubs of cream cheese in the other—he jumps and catches the edible projectile with his teeth so it doesn't smack him directly between the eyes. Successful, he steps back and gives Mikolaj and his grandkid a jaunty, wordless bow-and-salute combo. Orel golf-claps around their phone but Mikolaj's swearing becomes more prominent, so Wade beats a strategic retreat.
Outside, the cold, early spring air nips at Wade's face and ears. No one pays much attention to him, as they scurry down the sidewalk, and he chews happily on his bagel as he meanders down the block. Then, halfway between Mikolaj's bagel shop and his apartment, Wade steps out from the ever-present flow of pedestrians and turns into one of the less smelly alleyways. There aren't any big dumpsters to duck behind, but there is a recessed back entrance halfway down. Wade stops there and leans against the steel door. It doesn't hide him, not completely, but he doesn't need invisibility, just a little privacy. Quickly, Wade assesses his surroundings and—when he finds that all windows are closed against the unseasonal chill—he moves his acquired breakfast into one arm so he can dig his phone out of his jacket pocket.
One passcode and two taps later, and the phone is ringing gently in Wade's ear.
And ringing.
And ringing.
Wade has to call three times before Weasel finally picks up.
"This had better be fucking good, Wade," Weasel snaps in lieu of a hello. His normally nasally voice is sleep rough and agitated. "Do you even fucking know what time it is?"
"Ten thirty-seven," Wade supplies helpfully.
"Ten too-fucking-early, dickhat," Weasel corrects. Over the line, Wade can hear the shuffle of fabric as Weasel moves around in his bed. "What part of 'I run a bar that caters to a specific clientele' makes you think I want to be woken up before midday? And—shut the fuck up—"
Wade's mouth clicks shut.
"—that is a rhetorical question, because the answer is I do not want to be woken up until the clock is once again single digit post meridiem."
This time, Wade cannot physically stop himself from saying, "It's not a rhetorical question if you have an answer."
"What I'm saying is I don't want an answer from you," Weasel snaps. "Just tell me what you did so I can fix it and get the fuck back to sleep. Some of us have real jobs with real obligations that require real sleep schedules."
Wade bites down on a retort about beauty sleep and ugly faces. Not because he cares overmuch about Weasel's feelings—his friendship with Weasel has been built on a bedrock of mutual ribbing—but because he actually needs Weasel to do something for him, and insulting him tends to make him contrary.
"Well," Wade begins. "I am delighted to let you know that I am neither in jail nor am I being held up in a safe house like Davy Crockett during the siege of the Alamo—"
"Oh my god, please tell me you're not trapped in a shipping container again," Weasel all but groans.
"I am not and I'll thank you not to remind me of my terrible experience with the Russian mob. God, those guys are dicks." Wade knows that he's lucky to be alive after botching that particular job but a) he's proven to be strangely unkillable over the years, and b) he's never been one to dwell on past experiences. Learn from them, yes, but mull over? Wade reserves his angsting hours for more personal matters, like why he never got a chance to meet Bea Arthur or why he's apparently unlovable. "No, it's weirder. Someone broke into my apartment last night."
"And what, you need help with the body?" Weasel snorts. "Yeah, tell me another."
"He's alive," Wade clarifies. "It was an accidental break-in. I fired a few rounds at him, he dodged, then I made him pancakes."
Weasel sounds pained as he says, "Please tell me that's not an extended metaphor."
"I wish I could have extended his metaphor." Wade thinks wistfully of Peter's lean body and wry smile. It's no wonder he's already married; if Peter were single, anyone within a ten foot radius of him would immediately try to lock that down. "But no. I think he might be in trouble."
"And?" Weasel says dryly.
Earlier, after Wade had spent the better part of an hour researching parallel universes, he decided that it didn't matter what the truth was. It didn't matter if Peter did actually come from another dimension or if he was a delusional genetic experiment on the lam. Either way, he needed Wade's help, and Wade was going to give it. And the best way for Wade to help Peter is to gather as many details about the situation as possible in the most discreet way as possible. It's just that the most discreet way possible is by bringing Weasel into the loop.
"You're not going to believe me," Wade begins, "but the man who broke into my apartment might be a spider-themed superhero from an alternate universe. Or a genetic experiment on the run from the government."
Weasel is surprisingly silent as Wade tells him about Peter: his abilities, his story, his cute little upturned nose. Said aloud, it sounds more fantastical than it felt while it was happening, and once Wade brings Weasel up to the present moment, there's a short pause as Weasel processes everything Wade just unloaded on him.
"He's fucking cracked," Weasel finally says. "Superheroes? Alternate realities? What the fuck is this shit, the Writer's Guild of America strike circa late 2007?"
"Yeah, I would have thought that too," Wade confesses even as his shoulders sag with relief. Weasel doesn't sound like he believes Wade, but at least he's not questioning Wade's sanity. It's an important distinction. "But the crawling on the ceiling bit made it harder to deny."
"Sounds like all that hanging upside down has made blood pool in his brain. Christ. And all your blood is pooling in the wrong head." Weasel makes a gagging noise. "God, why do you make me think about your dick on a fucking Wednesday morning?"
"Hump day, baby," Wade croons. "Also, I didn't make you think about my cock, you did that all on your own. I get it. Señor Discostick is unforgettable."
"Unforgettably small," Weasel retorts, though as comebacks go, it isn't his best work. Then, switching back to their original conversation, Weasel continues, "I'll look into Schrödinger's twink for you, but I'm putting it on your tab. I don't do this shit pro-bono."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Text me when you have the deets," Wade says. "Oh, and Weasel?"
Weasel grunts. It sounds very much like his ‘fuck you very much’ grunt, the one he uses when he’s starting to tune Wade out, but Wade is deadly serious about Peter’s potential safety, damnit.
"I've only had Peter for half a day, but if anything happened to him, I would kill everyone responsible and then myself." Wade deepens his voice and enunciates, the consonants sharp off his tongue. "So no matter what you find, this stays between us. I don't care how many zeroes are attached to this. If someone's out there looking for Peter, you know nothing. ¿Comprendes?"
"Lo comprendo, comprade." Then, a split second before he hangs up, Wade hears him mutter, "Christ, there better be a fucking free bar at the wedding."
Click.
The dull roar of silence. Beyond it, the ever-present bustle of the city. Wade doesn’t know if he wants to laugh at the unintended irony in Weasel’s statement or shoot something in frustration. Peter isn’t his. Peter will never be his. Peter belongs to another person—another dimension—and the sooner Wade accepts that, the easier it will be to let him go.
Caught between the two emotions, Wade does neither. Instead, he stands there, phone still pressed to his ear, and tries to feel nothing at all.
.
When Wade returns to the apartment, forty minutes after he left, he finds that Peter has migrated from the kitchen island to the couch. Wade's laptop has been set on the coffee table and Peter is hunched over it, his spine curved at a near unnatural angle, comforter dragged around his shoulders like a particularly fluffy cocoon. He's gnawing on his lip and his mug is empty.
"Find anything?" Wade asks. He kicks off his sneakers before walking over and peering over Peter's shoulder.
"Sorta," Peter answers, straightening. The website opened on the screen depicts a man standing in front of a machine with too many wires. He's tall, probably in his mid-forties, and the set of his shoulders and his mouth scream 'entitled fuckwad'. Even the article title is pretentious: 'Dr. Reed Richards' Quantum Computational Analysis Strikes Gold—Again'.
"Looks like a douchebag," Wade comments.
"Another multiversal constant," Peter drawls. He looks away from the screen and at the large waxed bag in Wade's hands. "Oh thank god, I'm starving."
Peter lets the comforter fall down around his waist as he reaches for the food with both hands, making a little happy noise as the smell hits him. In the time it takes Wade to brew another pot of coffee, he consumes three bagels and half a tub of cream cheese. There are crumbs all over his lap when Wade returns, a refilled coffee mug in each hand.
"Good?"
"Amazing."
Wade hands Peter his mug before sitting down, leaning against the cushion and slinging an arm over the back of the frame. He cannot resist the temptation to sit close. Not touching—not quite—but close. Peter smells vaguely of sleep and Wade's shampoo.
"So what's up with Dr. Douchebag?" Wade asks, blowing on his scalding coffee.
"In this reality he's a quantum physicist at MIT." Peter leans forward and clicks into another tab. This is a faculty page for MIT and the picture is at least ten years old; Richards doesn't have any white in his hair in this photo, and the lines in his face haven't begun to form. He also isn't wearing reading glasses, as he was in the article. "He does research in quantum information science, which tries to apply principles of quantum mechanics into real-world application. It's kinda vague about what he's trying to apply it to, but... it's a start." Peter shrugs and chooses another bagel from the bag. Asiago.
"And your other leads?" Wade prompts.
"Well, one of them was a complete bust," Peter admits. "I told you about Tony last night, right?"
"Infinite probabilities guy, yeah."
"Well, he's pretty famous in my universe. His company—Stark Industries—used to manufacture weapons before it turned to other stuff. Renewable energy. Cellphones. Anyway, Tony's super smart and he's one of the original Avengers... which I realize you have no context for but it's, uh, it's impressive."
Peter's right. Wade has no frame of reference for anything he's saying, but Wade doesn't mind because he likes watching Peter's face flit from one emotion to another. It's probably a good thing the mask he wears while in costume covers his entire face; Wade can read an entire novel in the turn of his mouth and the angle of his eyebrows. Whoever Tony is to Peter, Peter admires him immensely.
"Is Tony a superhero too?" Wade asks.
"Yeah." Peter nods. "Iron Man. He builds these armored suits that utilize the repulsor technology he developed."
"And what is he, in this universe?"
"A mechanic. Runs a garage upstate fixing vintage cars. Apparently he's pretty well-known in certain circles." Peter licks some cream cheese from his fingers before pulling up a social media account on the laptop. "He's the guy with the sunglasses."
The photo is of two men on a tropical beach, standing side by side in swim trunks and Hawaiian shirts. The man on the left is shorter and older, with dark hair and a goatee. He has a neon pink drink in one hand and is smiling hugely. The man next to him—taller, blonder, buffer—has hauled him in close, with an arm around his waist and a possessive hand on his hip. His face is soft and completely adoring.
"And the other guy?" Wade prompts.
"Steve," Peter answers. "He and Tony got married four years ago."
It doesn't take a genius to realize that the happy couple in the picture are not happily together in Peter's reality. Peter's eyes are glued to the image, brow furrowed, chewing absently on his breakfast. It's like he's trying to solve an equation that he knows all the variables for, but can't make sense of the answer.
"Bad blood?" Wade hazards.
"An understatement, though... honestly? I didn't even know Cap was anything but depressingly straight," Peter answers. "He's another Avenger. The first, actually. He and Tony had a huge fallout awhile back that affected the whole super-powered community." Another pause. "This would explain a lot."
Wade snorts. "Are you saying that all they needed was to fuck it out?"
"All I'm saying is that it makes a lot of sense in hindsight!"
Wade laughs at Peter's tone, high and defensive. In retaliation, Peter elbows him in the side, the bony point of the olecranon hitting Wade exactly between two ribs. Once again, Peter forgets his strength, and Wade's sound of pain is only slightly exaggerated. Peter doesn't seem to notice, however, his attention immediately returning to the two men on the screen. He doesn't seem upset necessarily, simply melancholy.
"Apples and oranges, baby boy," Wade reminds him gently, verbally nudging Peter out from the spiral of his thoughts. “Tell me who else you’ve stalked while I’ve been gone.”
“Only you could make a basic investigation sound so sketchy,” Peter mutters as he exits out of the tab, the picture of Steve and Tony winking out of existence. His face is no longer pinched and Wade mentally congratulates himself on successfully diverting Peter’s attention from the strange what-if he found. “I’m literally stuck in an alternate universe.”
“Honestly, I would use this opportunity to play the most epic pranks on my friends and loved ones. And by that I mean Weasel.” Wade wiggles a little on the cushion with the sudden realization. “Wait, have you looked up your friends and loved ones? And if so, do you think we could pull some multiversal shenanigans?”
“No and definitely no,” Peter answers, slashing his flattened hand back and forth in an ‘absolutely not’ gesture.
“Ahhhh,” Wade whines. “But Petey Pie, think of the absolute mayhem!”
“I almost did," Peter admits quietly. He reaches for his coffee mug again yet doesn't drink; he just folds both hands around it, the small action performed more for the movement than anything else. "But that picture of Tony and Steve was really jarring, and I'm not even that invested in their personal lives. I mean, I don't have a lot of people, considering my line of work—"
"What, you're saying vigilante grad students don't have a lot of free time?"
"Shockingly, no." Peter puts the mostly empty mug down again. Absently touches his wedding ring and twists the band around his thin finger. "It's just you, and Aunt May, and MJ. Everyone else is a professional acquaintance at best."
You.
Aunt May.
MJ.
The wife, Wade realizes. Peter hasn't mentioned her since drop-landing in Wade's apartment, but Wade makes a living drawing conclusions from incomplete data and patterns. She's on the list of the most important people in Peter's life: other Wade, Peter's crime-fighting partner, Aunt May, the solitary relative, and MJ, the woman he married. It's in the way Peter says her name, the way he unconsciously touches his ring. Wade watches Peter's hand as he fidgets, hating the way jealousy rises in the pit of his stomach, a bubbling ball of acrid bile, making him sick, making him seethe. It's an odd sensation, as he's never been a particularly jealous person; he had never been upset even when Vanessa turned tricks, which she did for most of their relationship.
That's because Vanessa was yours, the rational, if vaguely mocking part of Wade's brain whispers. And Peter isn't.
Peter closes his eyes and leans back, head bumping against Wade's forearm, still slung across the back of the couch. Wade forces himself to focus on the way Peter's brown curls look against the maroon of his hoodie, loose and soft. He wants to run his fingers through the mass but knows he cannot; he stares instead, and mentally puts his useless longing into a mental cage. Mentally locks it, then dissolves the mental key in mental acid. Mentally.
"Anyone else that can help you?" Wade asks, trying to maintain a cheerful façade while he directs their conversation away from more emotionally charged subjects. "Another mad scientist, perhaps?"
"I do have one other big lead," Peter answers. He inhales deeply before returning to an upright position, head lifting from Wade's arm. "My best lead, actually."
The page Peter pulls up on the laptop does not look promising. It depicts the total wreckage of some luxury car, flipped upside down into a ravine; the frame is crumpled from a long fall and broken glass spread across the weed studded dirt. It doesn't look like the kind of crash that most people walk away from.
"Our universes must have very different definitions of 'best lead'," Wade comments.
"In my universe, this car accident was the catalyst for a man named Dr. Stephen Strange to quit his job as a surgeon and become Sorcerer Supreme," Peter explains. "It's promising because the exact same things that happened to him in my universe happened to him here."
" 'Sorcerer Supreme'?" Wade repeats. The word 'magic' escapes from the little 'Shit I'll Think About Later' box Wade stashed it in last night and he grimaces. "Please tell me that he's more Penn and Teller than Harry Potter."
Peter looks at Wade and gives him a small, regretful grin.
"Sweet Dumbledore," Wade mutters, squeezing his eyes shut and pinching the bridge of his nose. He's been operating under Peter's mental assumption that he's from another dimension, only returning to his genetic experiment theory when necessary, but interdimensional travel and magic? Peter is really testing Wade's ability to suspend his disbelief.
"There is another tiny problem," Peter says after Wade reopens his eyes.
"Which is?"
"Strange's accident happened over five years ago and, within a year, he resigned from his job, sold his house, and disappeared. I think I know where he might be, but..." Peter once again twists his ring around his finger. "How do you feel about a little exercise?"
.
Part 5
.
#spideypool#wade wilson#peter parker#deadpool#spiderman#fandom: marvel#pairing: wade wilson/peter parker#rating: m
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If you’ve been following me long enough, you know I’ve been trying to write a soccer/football/fútbol/whatever-you-call-it-in-your-area-of-the-world AU. I finally wrote words for it for @lightsonparkave round 34! I didn’t have a prompt in mind while writing it, but this one has a similar theme.
This is a story where Tony, a young talented player who’s become so jaded that he doesn’t know if he loves soccer anymore or if he ever really did, goes to the U.S. to be on the same team as Steve, who lives and breathes soccer. They dislike each other instantly, but they learn to be teammates and fall in love.
—
“It’ll be a fresh start,” Pepper had told him, tapping the signature line with her “special occasions only” Montblanc—as if downgrading to the U.S. from Spain was a momentous event that deserved to be celebrated—and the best and worst part of it was that she had sincerely believed it.
Between the pen and the optimism brimming in her eyes, Tony had found himself believing it too. Or at least believing that he wasn’t throwing his life away entirely. The contract wouldn’t have even been on the table if Pepper hadn’t thought it was worth his time. She wasn’t the type to latch herself to a sinking ship; she was a loyal friend, of course, but she was also his agent and much more crucially, not an idiot. Tony had come across his fair share of clueless agents who had no idea what they were doing and Pepper was their opposite. One day, she was going to be a superagent (except not evil) and take over the world (in a non-evil way).
But Pepper was known to be wrong on the rare occasion and Tony knew there were few places he could go where Howard’s shadow didn’t reach and his own reputation didn’t precede him. Having such a large social following and being a tabloid darling made that hard.
Not to mention, he thought bitterly, his new club was led by Steve Rogers, the apple of Howard Stark’s eye, the guy who captured enough hearts to be dubbed Captain America even before he became captain of anything. Not exactly the most logical place to go when you’re aiming for a low profile, though maybe the rivalry was mostly in his head since they played on two different continents and weren’t even on the same national team. If he was going to give his career another shot, it could do him some good to start over away from the spotlight that would follow him no matter where he was in Europe.
Here in New York, he at least had a chance at anonymity. The MLS wasn’t the league where superstars went to retire anymore, but despite its growth, it was still a ways from being the most-watched sports league in the States.
Here, he wouldn’t have to fight as much to reinvent himself. He could lay low, put in the work, stay away from the party life, and maybe, just maybe, not have to deal with every move he made being scrutinized and sensationalized. Or even wholly made up. Admittedly, he had fed the flames, doing things like going out to clubs the night before a match and staying until the early hours more than once, but it wasn’t like he had let that affect his on-pitch performance or even more absurdly, insisted on having a clause in his contract that Real Madrid would allow him to go clubbing at least once a week.
No one could be stupid enough to believe that—Tony could argue about why it was stupid for days, and the maxim that no player was bigger than the club was a maxim for a reason—but considering how the “news” was received, apparently most people were convinced that there was at least a kernel of truth to the rumor even if it wasn’t entirely true.
And so was his new captain, apparently. Steve Rogers could pretend all he wanted that he was as upstanding and accepting as everyone who fawned over him claimed him to be, but Tony was better at reading people than most gave him credit for. He could tell by the way Rogers painstakingly tried to fix a neutral expression on his face like any sudden move would make it slip off that he knew exactly who Tony was and he didn’t like what he saw.
A spoiled brat who got away with murder because he was so gifted and his dad and godfather were important people.
Not for the first time, Tony wondered if there was even a point in trying to change if everyone only saw him the way they wanted to see him.
#stevetony#steve/tony#superhusbands#stony#lightsonparkave#my words#i'm on the fence about this being a transfer or a loan#I don't think I've ever seen transcontinental loans before or I don't remember#but a loan will add fuel to the fire because Steve is more likely to think Tony isn't invested#and Tony's likely to think that this is temporary#fun little trivia fact: that nightclub clause I mentioned was a real rumor for a real player lmao#NOT for Real Madrid though#and yes Tony's former club is Real Madrid (unfortunately)#and yes Tony doesn't play for the U.S. on the international level#and yes you can tell this is an AU because of what I said about the MLS lol. let's pretend it's matured more than its present state
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Hang on, I’ve got another one for you guys today.
I think I figured out what has Peter calling Lucian wolf man/boy before he finds out how correct that is.
On with the fic!
--
Not much hunting was done tonight, in fact, none was done at all. But that was fine with Peter, he wasn’t really in any rush to go out and fight anyway.
He was too busy laying out on a large, flat rock thing (he still didn’t understand the terminology for these rock formations around Hell Creek Gulch, and he probably wouldn’t bother ever learning), staring up at the stars with Lucian at his side. It was honestly rather nice, peaceful, quiet. The moon was beautiful too, still rather large and round, even though it had been a few days since the last full moon.
“Don’t get skies like this in the cities.” Peter noted and Lucian made a questioning sound at him. “I mean, the lights in the cities make it hard to see something so wide and clear. And, let’s face it, all that coal smoke in the air? Kinda fucks it up.”
“Do you like nights like this, Peter?” Lucian asked, sounding curious and amused.
“Eehh... I dunno, I mean, sometimes ya just gotta sit back and enjoy the li’l things, right? Even if it’s just looking at a bunch of lights in the sky.” He looked over at Lucian, who nodded.
“Back home, where I used to live, we were far from any major cities, so nights were like this.” Lucian commented. “Except with more trees.”
Peter snorted, laughing a little, not sure why that was funny. Maybe it was just Lucian’s tone of voice as he said it. They laid there quietly for a bit before Peter’s attention went to the moon again. “Do you think there’s any werewolves out here?”
“W-what?” Lucian sounded startled by the question, maybe Peter had snapped him out of his own thoughts?
“Werewolves, ya know, big, scary man-shaped wolves. Do you think there’s any out here?”
“Why... would you think there would be?”
The hunter shrugged. “I dunno, I mean, there’s vampires hidin’ out in the hills and stuff. And there’s all those Native American legends of beings and beasts out in places like this, maybe there’s some sorta werewolf creature here.”
Lucian made a noise and sat up. “I don’t think there is.”
Peter made a face. “How would you know, you’re not from here.”
“Well, for one thing, I grew up around wolves. They were... frequent in the area where I am from.” There are wolves in Eastern Europe? Well, werewolves are known there, so of course, don’t be stupid, Peter. “And another thing, this area isn’t exactly made for wolves, even if they are werewolves.”
“And why not?”
“Not the right territory. I’m sure wolves have come down here at times to hunt if they’re desperate enough, but this place isn’t their home. They tend to be in more forested and mountainous regions, better adapted for those sort of regions.”
Peter sat up and looked at him, tilting his head. “You sure know an awful lot about wolves, and maybe werewolves?”
Lucian ran a hand through his hair. “Well, again, remember where I am from, Peter. There are many legends of beasts of all sorts from there, and that includes werewolves, and lycans.”
“Lycans?” Peter wasn’t sure if he was aware of those, though the name sounded familiar... had he read about them before?
The younger man looked uncomfortable. “They’re... a regional legend, people aren’t sure if they really exist, wolf men who change at any time, not needing the moon. They are said to keep their minds when in their wolf forms, unlike werewolves, who are not quite able to.”
Peter blinked, huh, that’s... probably a good thing or a really bad thing.
“Hm, well, I’d still like to think that there’s some man wolves runnin’ around here. You know Jefferson, the grocer? He was talkin’ at the bar about havin’ seen a large man-shaped being the other night, of the full moon, just outside of town.”
“People keep seeing all sorts of things around here.”
“Ah, true, true. But what if there is one out there! I wonder if we’ll have to hunt it.”
Lucian shook his head. “If it exists, best to leave it alone.”
“Why?”
He just shrugged. “Take my word for it, I know from experience.”
That... was an ominous answer. “Fine, whatever you say, wolf boy.”
Lucian raised an eyebrow at him, looking slightly offended. “Wolf boy?”
This made Peter smirk and he leaned back on his hands. “Well, you seem to be the expert around here on all things wolfy, so... why not?”
“Gee, thanks.” Lucian scoffed. “And what if I went about calling you bat boy since you’re apparently the expert on all things vampire? Hm?”
Peter wanted to say that Lucian could call him whatever he wanted, but he decided to bite his tongue on that. At least for now. He huffed, looking back up at the sky once more. “I’d embrace it! Better than some of the shit people around here call me! Bat boy sounds like a badge of honor!”
“Whatever you say, Peter.” Lucian said, laughing lightly. It made Peter’s heart jump hearing that, oof.
--
These two are so dumb. <3
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achievement unlocked : watched my first movie with nick cage in it
#it was army of one#i was bored as fuck and it just came up on netflix and i couldn’t be bothered to find anything better to watch#i’d actually NEVER HEARD of that gary faulkner dude so this has been a wild ride#if you don’t know the movie’s based on a true story#about Just Some Guy from Colorado who decided ‘hey. i’ll go to pakistan and hunt down bin laden. alone. with a sword’#i assume y’all probably know about this guy like i mean...#it must have been HUGE back then on the news when he went and did that#didn’t really make the rounds over here in europe so i didn’t know about that#Wild
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No Time Like The Present - Daniel Ricciardo - Part 1/2
Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x female!reader
Warnings: some fluff, a little angsty at times, lots of pining, no smut (yet ;) - keep an eye out for Pt. 2 for all that good stuff)
Summary: Friends to lovers, you know how it izzz, also renault Dan for no other reason than he really does it for me yk
Words: 2.6K
Author’s note: This is my first ever fic so please bare with me as i’m still figuring out what style/POV I enjoy the most! English is not my first language so if there are any mistakes/typos in here please let me know!
Y/N/N = your nickname
Feedback very much appreciated, Enjoy :))
Extra’s:
Song recs -> Dead of Night by Orville Peck// Eventually by Tame impala// Treat You Better by Rüfüs du sol // Meet Me in the Hallway by Harry Styles
Some posts that *inspired* me -> Renault Dan 1, 2, 3, 4 and 5, Dan’s outfit is the one from this video, this Euphoria scene
Sunday October 11th 2020, Nürburgring, Germany
As soon as the hotel door clicked shut behind you, a sigh of relief forced its way out of your mouth. Your feet were screaming at you to drop all your belongings on the floor and flop down on the bed to give them some relief, so you did exactly that. After the long trip here, jetlag doing its worst on you, and a full day of walking around the track and paddock, saying you were tired was an understatement. Still, you found yourself deep in thought as you lay on your back staring at the ceiling. The words Daniel spoke to you after the podium celebrations were still ringing in your ears, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t get them out of your head.
“Looks like you’re my lucky charm, Y/N/N, you should just travel with me year-round. We’d make quite the team you and I.”
It was a joke, ofcourse, if the tone of his voice didn’t give that away then the playful pat on your shoulder sure did the trick. If only he knew you would do it in a heartbeat.
Daniel and you had been friends since you were kids. Your older brother and him went to school together and were basically attached by the hip, which meant your families spent a lot of time together. As you got older, you and Daniel developed a friendship that went beyond just ‘his mates younger sister’. You would tag along on whatever adventure Daniel had in mind for your friend group; whether it was a hike (that was way too much for the converses you were all wearing and the grand total of one water bottle Daniel had thought to bring), long bike rides down the beach or a party that we just HAD to attend on the other side of town. On numerous occasions you had called him to come pick you up from a party after having too much to drink, and he would let you stay over at his house and not tell your parents about it.
“I really need to teach you and your brother how to handle your liquor better, Y/N/N.” He’d laughed when tucking you into bed, and you remember thinking it was your favorite sound in the whole world.
When he had moved to Europe to pursue Formula 1 you knew it would be hard to keep the friendship going, but you had managed surprisingly well over the years. You often accompanied your brother when he planned a trip to go see Daniel, and ofcourse you saw him over the winter breaks. Still, no matter how long he stayed, it always felt like too little time, always felt like too little words spoken and laughs shared between the two of you.
When Daniel had invited you and your brother to come see him at the Eifel GP you were elated, with online classes you were able to put uni on the backburner for a few weeks to take this trip. Unfortunately, your brother wasn’t able to take time off work to come, but you couldn’t pass up on the opportunity to see Daniel again. It had been months since you had seen him, and you missed him more than you would ever admit to him or your brother…or yourself for that matter.
You often found yourself question the true nature of your feelings for Daniel, there was just something about the two of you together that felt right, like that was where you were destined to be; right next to each other. Pursuing this feeling hadn’t worked out, either he was leaving soon or one of you was dating someone else. Even if the timing was right, taking the first step terrified you, not just because of the fear of rejection, but you didn’t want to risk losing him as a friend. You would do anything to keep him in your life, even if it meant never acting on this “what if” sensation that clouded your mind whenever you were around him.
A knock on your door diverted you from your thoughts, and your feet tingled in protest when you got up to open it. It was no surprise to see Daniel standing at the other side of the door, being that he was pretty much to only person you knew here. Still, the sight of him knocked to wind out of you. He was still wearing the Pirelli hat, or at least he had put it back on right before this, the golden embroidered 3rd place on both sides standing out under the dim lighting of the hotel hallway. His champagne-soaked race gear had made way for another Daniel Ricciardo classic, some jeans paired with an oversized hoodie and a pair of vans.
“Fancy going for a nightcap with a top 3 finisher?” He smirked while pointing at the hat, like without it you would have forgotten he was on the podium today.
“Hmm, I’ll have to think about that, maybe the race winner is available? Do you have Lewis’ number by any chance?” you retorted while leaning casually against the doorframe.
The smug expression on his face quickly made way for a look of feigned shock.
“Very funny, Y/N/N, I taught you well, huh? Listen, those pink bunny socks are just adorable, but please put your shoes back on and follow me, I know a place you’ll like.”
He talked like he was already sure you would agree to go. It almost made you want to put up some sort of protest to the invitation…almost.
//
The ride there was quiet, not an awkward silence, more like you were enjoying just being close to one another without the need for pointless small talk. You had barely even registered that the car had stopped when Daniel suddenly piped up.
“So, what do you think?” he said proudly, like a toddler that had just finished a drawing and was waiting for the incoming praise from his parents.
When you looked up, it took everything in you not to laugh out loud. The bar you had pulled up to looked straight out of the movies. A small run-down building that looked like it hadn’t been renovated in approximately 30 years, adorned with a giant sign that said “JOEs BAR & GRILL” and next to it, a blinking neon light with the words “BEER AND MUSIC”. The whole place just screamed Daniel.
“What IS this place?” you laughed.
“Hey now, don’t judge a book by its cover, this is one of the best bars in Germany, just trust me Y/N.” He looked straight into your eyes as he said it, and you realized you did trust him. You wondered if he knew you would follow him anywhere he asked you too. Actually, you wondered if YOU even knew before this very moment.
Once inside, the two of you sat down at the bar while Daniel ordered some drinks. You had to admit you felt kind of bad about poking fun at Daniels choice of establishment. The atmosphere was fun and vibrant, and that alone was enough of a reason for Daniel to appreciate this place. Looking at him chatting with the bartender who was congratulating him on his podium, he fit right in. It was one of the qualities you envied the most in him, he was the life and soul of every party and only ever stood out in a good way. People gravitated towards him, just like you did. It was also the thing that made him impossible to forget, like once you’d had him in your life it would never feel the same without him.
“Whatever you’re thinking about, stop. I’m getting a headache just looking at you”, he smiled while handing you your drink.
“Hey, I’m tired you know, it isn’t easy following an F1 driver around all day. I don’t know how Michael does it to be honest” you smirked as you sipped your drink with feigned confidence.
“Well, maybe the two of you can work something out, hand me over every other week, like co-parenting you know? I’m sure Renault has some sort of job offer that could give you a year-round all access Danny Ric deal” he winked as he said it, and although it was just another silly joke, you silently wished he would stop making them. You would drop everything in your life if it meant you could be with him more, no questions asked. Daniel picked up on your silence and decided to change the subject entirely.
“Do you remember when you cut your hand while we went rock climbing that one summer?”
The question caught you off guard, and instinctively you raised the palm of your left hand and stared at the small scar that ran from your pointer finger down to your thumb.
Before you even had time to verbally respond, he set down his drink to softly grab your hand and trace the scar with the very top of his fingers. No matter how innocent it might seem, the gesture suddenly felt too intimate. The way his fingers ghosted over your skin made goosebumps arise all over your skin. This made you pull your hand back towards you so it fell out of his grasp. When you looked up at Daniel, he was already staring back at you. His soft smile had dissipated and made way for a more serious expression that you weren’t used to seeing on him. He looked somewhat confused or maybe…disappointed? However, he quickly regained his composure and spoke up again.
“As soon as you saw the first drop of blood you fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention, you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”
“Hey!” you laughed as you gave him a small punch in the arm, it was a stark contrast to the gentle contact you had shared just a few seconds earlier. This was right back to the friendly, platonic atmosphere that you knew so well. Even though it was where you felt most comfortable, there was something about this night that felt different. Deep inside, you felt a need to get away from this familiar place of “childhood buddies”, and venture into unknown territory.
“Wanna dance?”
Your mouth had seemingly made the decision before your brain did, because the question surprised yourself just as much as it did Daniel.
“You know what, I know just the song for that”. Daniel jumped from his seat and walked over to the old jukebox and quickly pressed a few buttons.
After a few seconds, the unmistakable tune of Ain’t no mountain high enough started booming through the speakers. Unbelievable, you thought, this man is just full of surprises.
He held out his hand expectantly and you took it without hesitation. The dance floor, if you could even call it that, was a small little corner that luckily kept you mostly out of view from the other bar-goers.
Remember the day I set you free
I told you, you could always count on me, darling
And from that day on I made a vow
I'll be there when you want me some way, some how
Daniel spun you around perfectly in time with the tune of the song. You’d seen him dance probably a thousand times; in clubs, during house parties, when a good song came on while in line for a coffee, but never like this. Normally, his jokester persona was priority number one and he would move his hips in the silliest way possible. Tonight however, he was more serious, constantly searching for your eyes when you spun back to face him. You raised your eyebrows in feigned surprise and laughed.
“you’re actually a decent dancer too huh? Man, is there anything you can’t do??”
He smiled back, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, like he was somehow disappointed with your response. He let go of your hand and stepped closer while keeping his eyes trained on yours. For a second you thought he was going to say something, but instead he put his hands on your waist. You were frozen for a moment, but before your brain had even registered what was happening, you put your arms around his neck. You were right when you felt like tonight was different. The same, but different. You and Daniel, together, but different.
Oh no darling,
No wind, no rain
No winters cold can stop me baby
No, no baby,
'Cause you are my love
If you ever in trouble, I'll be there on the double
Just send for me, oh baby
As you swayed together, it felt somewhat unnatural, not only because the song didn’t really fit a slow dance, but even more so because there was only silence between the two of you when it was clear that something had to be addressed.
That the two of you had never danced like this.
That friends don’t dance like this.
That you don’t want to be his friend.
That you want more.
Your hands that were intertwined at the back of Daniels neck released, one of your thumbs now grazing over the side of his neck, slowly ascending to his face, his cheekbones, his lips. Then, it happened, you grabbed his face with both hands on his cheeks and brought your lips to his.
He reacted immediately, the hands that were softly placed on your waist were now gripping your shirt and pulling you even closer while your lips worked together. All the daydreams in the world couldn’t have prepared you for the real thing. You were kissing Daniel. Daniel was kissing you back. You have no idea how long you were intertwined like that, but sooner than you would have hoped you had to pull apart to take a breath. When you recoiled, suddenly you became aware of your surroundings again, as if you had been under water, completely cut off from the outside world. The music suddenly seemed to loud, the bar too busy. Right, the bar, Daniel favorite bar, where he’s been numerous times. Where he’s been with his other friends. Where he’s met other girls to dazzle and probably take home with him. Were you like them? Just a viable option? Convenient? Would he still consider you a friend if you took this any further? When you finally got yourself to look at Daniel, he seemed confused and somewhat shocked at your expression. How had you gone from kissing him with such conviction to seemingly spiraling in your thoughts in just a few minutes?
“Oh god…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-…I…I don’t know what came over me” you say as you promptly turn around and start walking away from him and towards the exit.
Daniel stayed frozen where he was for a few seconds before chasing after you in a slight jog. You had already made it outside, with no idea of where you thought you were going since Daniel drove you here, but you just felt like putting as much distance between you and him as possible, even if it meant walking back to the hotel. Before you got the chance to try, Daniel caught up and grabbed your wrist so he could turn you around to face him once more.
“Hey, Hey…look at me, what was that??” He asked while keeping his hold on your wrist as not to risk you running away from him again.
“I’m sorry, I really don’t want to lose you, I shouldn’t have done that, Daniel, I shouldn’t have acted like this..I-“
“Like what? Acted like what? Y/N, please, why are you panicking like this suddenly? We were just-“
“I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified”
#daniel ricciardo#daniel ricciardo fanfic#daniel ricciardo smut#daniel ricciardo fanfiction#formula 1 RPF#formula 1#formula 1 fanfic#daniel ricciardo one-shot#daniel ricciardo x reader#x reader#daniel ricciardo imagine
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art is to feel (ch. 2) | A Bridgerton Series
Series: art is to feel
Paring: Anthony Bridgerton x F!Reader
Summary: Anthony Bridgerton has only one goal for this upcoming social season. To find a wife. What will he do when a young woman with no desire for marriage comes waltzing into his life?
Word Count: 2.2
Warnings: N/A
A/N: I cannot thank you all enough for the wonderful comments on chapter 1! They really mean the world to me and I hope that this chapter does it justice. Please let me know what you think!
(Chapter 1) // (Chapter 3) (Chapter 4) (Chapter 5) (Chapter 6) (Chapter 7)
It is once again time to place bets for the upcoming social season. Who will be crowned the diamond of the season? All interested parties can look no further than Lady (Y/N) (Y/L/N), the clear incomparable for the 1814 social season.
It seems that the deferral of Lady (Y/N)’s debut has succeeded in making her all the more desirable amongst the eligible men of high society. But which suitor will manage to persuade the headstrong debutante to accept his proposal?
Lady Whistledown’s Society Papers, 27 April 1814
The trail of suitors out of Lady Danbury’s door the morning after her ball had made quite a stir. And (Y/N) managed to be perfectly kind to each and every suitor, giving each of them her due attentions, yet she left something to be desired.
She was never rude, and her kindness never seemed to falter (even when Mr. Fillmore spilled his tea directly into her lap). But what had at Lady Danbury’s ball been perceived as demureness, seemed in fact to be a general indifference to her company.
You had not been prepared for how absolutely exhausting entertaining gentleman callers would be.
You’d think sitting and smiling would be an easy feat, but with the gifts, and the flowers, and, worst of all, the verses, never seemed to end. And you didn’t know how to explain to these perfectly decent young men that you were not at all interested.
Friday night could not have come soon enough.
The late afternoon light shone through the windows of Sir Granville’s art studio, setting ablaze the models seated in the center of the room, giving each woman’s skin a golden hue. The room itself was equally warm and inviting - the quiet buzz of conversation between artists as several worked at the easels the rounded the room.
“Lady (Y/L/N)?” Benedict Bridgerton called out as you stared intently at your canvas.
You’d been in Sir Granville’s studio for several hours, and the model’s brow was giving you particular trouble. You’d been so invested in trying to remedy the problem that you hadn’t noticed the familiar face that had entered the room.
“Oh! Hello, Mister Bridgerton,” You greeted Benedict kindly as the second eldest of the Bridgerton clan ambled over to you. “And please, call me (Y/N), this is hardly the time or place for formalities.”
“Only if you call me Benedict,” He replied with a smile as he sat down on the stool next to yours. “I must confess, I did not expect to see you here.”
“Oh, Sir Granville was a close friend of my father’s, he’s been one of my painting instructors since I was a child. I used to spend my time here every afternoon as a child, bothering all the adults with my incessant questions about their work. That was before I left for France.” You explain.
Benedict quirks his eyebrow at you, “France?”
You grin, “I’ve spent the last few years touring Europe. France, Spain, Italy, Simon even took me to Greece for a few weeks. It was led on the express intentions of completing my art education,” You tell him. “I was fortunate enough to study with masters and painting instructors up and down the Mediterranean coast. My art is not a hobby, it is my truest and deepest passion.”
“I feel we will become fast friends, (Y/N),” Benedict replied, matching your smile with one of his own.
“As do I, now please, I am in dire need of a fresh pair of eyes on this painting, do you not think the shading beneath the palm is too harsh?” You ask him as you beckon him to your canvas, peering at your work with a disdainful eye.
“I-This painting is marvelous, (Y/N),” Benedict compliments you as he takes in your work. “Your time on the continent was clearly well spent.”
“Thank you,” You reply awkwardly as you glance at his face, struggling to take the compliment.
You and Benedict were so deep in conversation, from topics pertaining to art, to discussing life more broadly when Sir Granville poked his head into the studio and you realized the day’s light had all but disappeared and many of the other students and artists had departed.
“I’m afraid it is time for you to take your leave, (Y/N),” Sir Granville announced gently as he walked over to where the two of you were sitting.
You smiled sheepishly before nodding and beginning to collect your things, “One of these days you’ll forget to kick me out before the real party begins, and then all of this rudeness will be inconsequential.”
“The day I let something like that happen to you is the day Lady Danbury cuts my head off.” Sir Granville shot back at you, “If your father’s ghost does not strangle me first.”
You sigh dramatically, but nod as you try to gently rouse your Lady’s maid, Martha, from her impromptu nap on the chaise behind you, “I know, I know,” You mutter.
“Well have a lovely rest of your evening you two,” You say as the gentlemen escort you and your Lady’s maid to the door.
“Are you certain I can’t escort you home, Miss (Y/L/N)?” Benedict asks as your carriage pulls up to the front of the house.
“Of course not, Mr. Bridgerton!” You protest, “You’d miss out on all the fun! I may be an unmarried woman, and as pure and innocent as the rest of them, but I’m not an idiot.”
“Enjoy the party, for me,” You add with a wicked grin as you step into the carriage. Leaving Benedict staring at the retreating carriage completely dumbstruck.
You were trouble. He liked you already.
“I’ve just received a letter from your cousin Gareth this morning. He seems to be enjoying his final year at Eton,” Lady Danbury announced as you entered the breakfast room the next morning, peering at you over her correspondence.
“You know I love Gareth, but you know that technically we’re not cousins,” You point out as you sit down at the breakfast table.
“The two of you are the only people I can tolerate, so as far as I’m concerned the two of you are cousins,” Lady Danbury replies, non-pulsed. “You know, maybe I can introduce him to one of the Bridgerton girls, at least then I’ll get to see one of you to the altar before I die.”
“Gareth’s barely out of leadings strings!” You protest.
“Well, clearly I have to start early with him because at this rate neither of you will marry before I’m six feet under,” Lady Danbury grumbles.
“Gigi, please,” You reply, rolling your eyes at her theatrics.
“I’m just saying, you must like at least one of your suitors, you have the pick of the ton, my dear.”
“I do not,” You reply.
“Besides, I need a break from all of this madness. I cannot be expected to sit in that forsaken drawing-room every afternoon, I feel as though my head will explode if I have to spend another day listen to men prattle on about themselves,” You beg, desperately.
“You simply need a change of pace,” Lady Danbury told you with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Promenade with me for a quarter hour today, and then you may be free to draw or paint or don a wig and run around the palace gardens naked, whatever it is that you would rather spend your time doing, (Y/N), but you must accept that there are expectations of you now.”
You sigh, “Very well, I shall walk for a half of the hour with you, and then I will ask you to make my excuses.”
“I have raised you well, my dear,” Lady Danbury replies happily. “I imagine we shall find you a husband within the season.”
“But-” You opened your mouth to protest.
“-Uh uh uh! I do not want to hear your fanciful plans for the future you think you can create for yourself. I promised to take care of you, (Y/N), your parents entrusted you to my care. And part of that care is ensuring that you marry well, to someone who will take care of you after I am gone.”
And with that Lady Danbury stood from the breakfast table and left you to ponder the likelihood that you could successfully fake your own death before this afternoon.
“Good afternoon, Lord Bridgerton,” (Y/N) you finally said, greeting the man who had been standing behind you for nearly ten minutes.
You hadn’t meant to disappear. It was just all of the conversations, and then Lady Danbury and Lady Bridgerton kept prodding you about which of the ton’s men had piqued your interest and ---
And you’d fled.
Just the short walk to the more wooded area of the botanical gardens where you could hide under the trees, staring out at the shimmering, calm waters of the small pond tucked in the corner of the gardens and be left alone. At least, until Lord Bridgerton had found you.
“Miss (Y/L/N),” Anthony returned the greeting. “The others wondered where you had disappeared to.”
“Well, you can tell them where I am,” You reply with a sigh, wiping one of your gloved palms across your face before placing your hands on your hips and taking a deep breath. “I- I just needed a moment of respite.”
“Too many adoring suitors for your tastes?” He asks wryly, making no indication of taking his leave.
You shot him a withering look, “Yes.” You replied plainly, “I’d prefer they spent their time chasing a woman who might actually agree to marry them, but Lady Danbury says that while I’m free to refuse any outright proposals, I mustn’t refuse their attentions for fear I shall offend the town writ large.”
“I suppose none of them are good enough for you,” Anthony replied cavalierly as he took a step towards you.
You turn to face him head-on, a fire set alight in your eyes at his implication. “That isn’t why. I have no intentions of ever marrying. I will suffer through the season for the sake of Lady Danbury, and then I shall return to the continent. Alone.”
“You do not wish to marry?” Anthony asked you curiously.
“Of course not, I like my life the way it is, the freedoms that I’m afforded as an unmarried woman and see no reason to change it. I’m fortunate enough to not need to make a match so I see no other reason to.” You tell him. “I’m only spending this season in London because Lady Danbury commanded on it. And I have yet to meet anyone who can refuse her, least of all me.”
“I thought all women wished for nothing more than a handsome and rich husband whose money they could spend.” Anthony prodded, jovially, trying to make light of your comment.
“You know nothing of what it is to be a woman, Bridgerton,” You shoot back. “Is it truly so impossible for you to imagine that a woman would not wish to marry? You are what? Nine-and-Twenty? Have you been searching for a wife for the last ten years?”
“No, you haven’t, so please do not tell me that I am privileged and entitled when you hold more power than I ever will.”
Anthony looked taken aback by your outburst, “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend-”
“Of course you did,” You reply sharply.
Anthony stares at you for what feels like an eternity before you sigh, “I’m sorry, that outburst was...unseemly. It wasn’t really directed at you.”
“Clearly it had been building for a long time,” Anthony replies.
You groan as you turn back to the pond, “I didn’t even want to come today. Every day I sit in our drawing room, and I feel like...like I’m slowly drowning. I can feel the water creeping up, filling my lungs, and I can’t seem to reach the surface. No matter how hard I try, how hard I swim.”
“That was a lot, I’m sorry, you don’t have to listen to me prattle on about my stupid problems,” You apologize again, feeling rather embarrassed as the reality of everything that you’ve just admitted to Anthony Bridgerton, a man you hardly know, hits you.
“I would be happy to escort you back to Lady Danbury,” Anthony offers, holding his arm out for you, “As long as you promise not to bite my head off on the walk back.”
“I don’t know if I can promise that,” You reply with a small smile as you accept his arm, intertwining your own with it.
Anthony makes easy, biting commentary on the couples that you pass as you return to the main path through the gardens.
“Bridgerton,” You say suddenly, just as you’re about to rejoin your families, “I plan to ride tomorrow at midday in Hyde Park.”
Anthony raises an eyebrow at you, expecting you to continue your train of thought before you’re surrounded by the meddlesome members of your family.
“Well, until I see you again, M’lord,” (Y/N) said with a wry smile before making her way back to her caretaker and setting off.
(next chapter)
#art is to feel#art is to feel series#anthony bridgerton#anthony bridgerton x reader#anthony bridgerton imagine#anthony bridgerton fanfiction#anthony bridgerton x you#bridgerton#bridgerton imagine#bridgerton reader insert#bridgerton x reader#anthony bridgerton x f!reader#bridgerton fanfiction#benedict bridgerton#lady danbury
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A Place To Call Home: Santa’s Letters
Summary: It’s the holiday season in the Ackles household and Jensen has a a request for all of his kids...
Masterlist
Pairing: Jensen x foster daughter!reader
Square: Creating New Traditions
Word Count: 2,800ish
Warnings: language, angst, fluff
A/N: Enjoy! This part takes place after the Dads Timestamp. Also written for @spnchristmasbingo
_______
“Whatcha reading?” asked your dad while you sat at the kitchen counter sipping on a glass of chocolate milk.
“Allie wrote a letter to Santa for Christmas,” you said, handing him the letter. He took it and cocked his head, JJ smirking as she pulled her mac and cheese out of the microwave. “Considering she can’t write yet I think that’s pretty good.”
“Go with stuffed animals. Toddlers love stuffed animals,” he said.
“I thought she was trying to write puppy,” said JJ, stirring the food with a fork and taking a seat next to you.
“I so do not need a dog. We can visit Toby here whenever we want,” you said, tucking the letter back in your pocket. “We got all her presents already. And Colin. TJ’s all I need to get.”
“You know what I want,” he said, rounding the corner from the bathroom. He smirked and you rolled your eyes.
“Yeah but I can’t just get you what you want. There has to be some element of surprise Hanover,” you said.
“She has a point,” said your dad. “Twins!”
“What?” they called from over on the couch, watching a christmas movie in the background.
“Come here. Little family meeting while mom’s out with the babies,” he said.
“Are we going on vacation?” asked Arrow, dashing over and looking up at him.
“Calm yourself,” he said, Zepp padding over and sitting up on the counter, stealing a cookie from the tray. “Alright. I’m entrusting all of you with very secret information.”
“Is this about the vacation to Europe you’re taking mom on next summer?” said Arrow, glancing at your cup of chocolate milk. You slid it over while your dad blinked a few times.
“She knows?” he asked.
“No,” she said with a shrug. “You just leave your computer open sometimes.”
“Wait you go looking at my computer?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.
“Afraid they’re gonna find po…” trailed off TJ when he glared at him. “Note to self. Never use your computer.”
“I didn’t look. It was just open. You’re lucky I shut it so mom didn’t see,” she said.
“Alright,” he said, breathing deeply. “Good. I wanted to make sure you guys knew ahead of time. Y/N and TJ will be in charge the couple weeks we’re gone. JJ, I’m hoping you’ll offer to help out a little.”
“I know how to make food,” she said, holding up her dish.
“Clearly,” he said, shaking his head. “So no spoiling, no nothing. I know mom is planning something for me so if it is happening in the month of June, let me know now.”
“You’re good,” you all said, your dad pouting.
“How’d you all know that?”
“Mom told us her plans like two months ago,” you said, stomach rumbling. “Let’s order pizza.”
“It’s a school night,” he said, Arrow already grabbing the takeout book from the drawer.
“Not for us,” said TJ, pulling out his phone.
“Fine but I want garlic knots,” he said, TJ tapping away on the app. “Well something you all don’t know, because apparently you’re all little ninjas listening all the time, is this.”
He went over to the table and grabbed what looked like Christmas cards and slid them across the counter, one to each of you.
“I know that we’re all aware the big man in red is in fact not real-”
“Parents are scam artists,” sighed Arrow. “I really thought Santa was real and then the rug just gets ripped out from under you.”
“Sad but hey we got rid of your fear of werewolves in one fell swoop that day didn’t we,” said your dad. You chuckled, turning over the blank envelope and pulling out a sheet of paper.
“Yeah but like how’d you pull it off? Cause trust me, we used to search this place top to bottom for toys,” said JJ.
“Storage unit. You’ll thank me someday,” he said, going to the counter and grabbing the cup with pens, handing them out. “Now I know you all know Santa isn’t real and I already know half of what you want for Christmas anyways but for my own amusement, I want you all to write a letter to Santa asking what you want.”
“Seriously,” deadpanned Zeppelin.
“Oh! Another contender for my most passive aggressive child of the day. Careful Arrow, your title is on the line,” he said, leaning against the counter. “So entertain your dear old dad and do this for me, huh?”
“When’s food get here?” you asked TJ.
“About forty five minutes,” he hummed, already writing his letter. You stared at him, TJ lifting his head. “What? I never wrote to Santa before.”
“You never wrote to Santa?” asked JJ, her hand over her mouth.
“Well I always knew he was fake,” said TJ. “My dad never really hid that.”
“Your dad’s a dick,” said Arrow. He gave her a side hug and laughed.
“There’s a reason we’ve always gotten along,” he chuckled. He picked up his pen again and started to write, Arrow waiting a beat before she was working away. You took your paper and pen and wandered out to the back porch, taking a seat at the table.
“Oh don’t tell me you’re gonna be the hold out. I was expecting one of the teens to give me a problem over you,” said your dad, sitting down next to you. You leaned back in the chair, taking out Allie’s letter again. You looked at it and handed it to him.
“I asked her if she could tell me what she wanted cause well, that’s just scribbles. You know what she said? She was asking Santa if he could feed everybody cause we drove past a homeless man earlier in the week. She’s not even three and she is a better person than I ever will be. Lately I am so scared of fucking it up and turning her into an asshole. The world doesn’t need more assholes like Rick. It needs little hers and I don’t know how to not dump my shit on her and fuck her up.”
“Y/N. Fucking it up would have been hearing that baby cry and walking away because you told yourselves it wasn’t anything. It would have been so easy to walk away and never know she was in there. She would have died that night if you and TJ hadn’t stopped. She’s alive not because you made her but because you saved her. I know that Allie touched a piece of you that I can’t ever get to, TJ can’t, mom can’t. It’s a special place for your children. You give that child so much love...Allie is kind because her mother and father are kind. Part of it, yeah, that’s her. And part of it is in how you raise her. But you know all the things not to do. You and TJ both know what leaves scars. You’re gonna mess up but as long as you don’t actively hurt her which I know will never happen, she will turn out amazing. I promise.”
“How do you know that?”
“No such thing as a perfect person. Aim for good,” he said. You took the letter back and tucked it away, taking a deep inhale, releasing slowly. “When were you originally planning on kids?”
“Hm?”
“I know you didn’t want them this early. You guys ever talk about that?”
“At least thirty,” you said softly. “Maybe a year or two after to start. He wanted more time for us, for me to...be happy without responsibility.”
“Is that why you and mom nearly got in a fight when she said she’d take the babies for the night, spend some time with them?”
“They should be here,” you said quietly.
“It’s past bedtime for them and you need to get better at letting them go without you.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means TJ’s mom can take the kids. We can. Your aunts, uncles, the whole damn family. Your friends. It means I need you to stop feeling guilty because you don’t think you’re a perfect mother and that you don’t spend enough time with your kids. They are both always attached to your hip.”
“That’s not true. I’m away from them too much.”
“Y/N. I lived away from your siblings, from you, for nine months out of the year. When I came home, I took trips alone with just mom. Besides the sarcasm being off the charts, how’d I do with ‘em? How’d I do with you?”
“Why must you always have good points,” you groaned. “It’s so fucking annoying.”
“Special skillset,” he said, leaning back in his chair. His shirt rode up and you saw his scar on his side peak through, your dad glancing down. “I know the letter thing is silly but Allie’s not the only person that wouldn’t still be here without you.”
“Mom said you’re thinking about laser surgery,” you said.
“I am a tad self-conscious if I’m being honest,” he said. “I haven’t decided yet.”
“I’m getting it. For the ones on my back,” you said. He turned his head and you looked up. “Gonna hurt like a bitch apparently.”
“Why are you doing it then?”
“Because all summer long every time we went swimming, there you were staring at my back and I could just see the wheels turning in your head. I don’t like how they make you feel. I don’t like the way they look. I just want to. If you want to get rid of the one on your stomach then I say go for it. You already have a tattoo for me on your arm. I don’t need a scar too.”
He tugged up his shirt, showing off more of the scar.
“How the hell did you fit your hand inside of me,” he said absently, rubbing his fingers over it.
“I wasn’t really thinking about it. I just did it. I know it hurt you,” you said, reaching over and pulling his hand away. “What if I ask Santa for something he can’t give me?”
“Santa wants you to ask for something big this year,” he said.
“Dad.”
“I shouldn’t be here. This should be a shitty Christmas for all of you. But it’s not so this year, you get extra.”
“Alright. Anything I want?”
“Anything at all. You name it.”
“I want you to never thank me for saving your life again because you don’t have to say thanks for that.” He pursed his lips and nodded.
“I still want a letter to Santa with what you want.”
“I will if you agree to stop thanking me.”
“Have I ever mentioned what a stubborn child you are?”
“Several times,” you said. You crossed your arms and he groaned. “I guess Santa’s gonna miss out on a letter…”
“Fine. I won’t bring it up again but I want something real good in this letter,” he said. He got up and ruffled your hair. “Come inside if you get chilly out here.”
“I won’t be long.”
It was around three in the morning when you woke up to use the bathroom, stomach rumbling along the way. You padded into the kitchen to make a quick snack, pausing when you saw the envelope propped up next to the little christmas basket on the island. You looked around, nothing else in the house seeming disturbed.
After a beat you grabbed the envelope and flipped it over, relaxing when you saw the handwriting. It was addressed to you and started to open it, waiting to take it out while you put a piece of pizza in the microwave to reheat. After it beeped off, you took a seat at the counter, taking a few bites before removing the letter and unfolding it.
Y/N! I got your letter today. You’ve been very good this year. Truth be told you’ve been good every year since the last time we talked. I’m sorry to hear that the way you found out I’m not real was when you lost your parents. Well, a version of me isn’t real. Cause see I’m kinda special. Santa’s always around, even if you’re in on the secret.
I saw in your letter you didn’t ask for much. I guess we should blame your parents for making you so unspoiled. You’re so hard to find a gift for you know? Their words, not mine. Anyways, I talked things over with your old man and he’s willing to let you take Baby out for a night with TJ, after a quick few driving lessons in her.
Your dad remembers when you guys used to go driving when you first came here too. Those are some good memories for him. You were ready for your road test the first time he got in the car with you. But he kinda selfishly would tell you to keep getting more practice so you guys could spend some time together. He secretly wishes he could have been the one to teach you but he’ll settle for some tips behind Baby’s wheel.
But here’s the thing. This year was a lot. Santa knows you went to therapy with your dad and physical therapy too. You guys even started going on your walks for him to build up strength again. He appreciates all of that more than you know. Then there was the whole mess with TJ’s dad and then his dad trying to take money and finding out he’s not even his father in the first place. I know you took the brunt of that for him. Then there was the medication mess around Halloween and everybody’s emotions were all over the place and long story short, Santa knows you had a hell of a year kiddo.
It’s funny. You spent most of this year taking care of your family when you’re the one that thinks they’re always taking care of you. You who also were hurt in an accident. Santa knows shit got real that night and you took that on yourself.
So Santa swung a little deal for you. That trip that got cut short earlier this year? How about you and your dad go on up and visit the canyon park after new years. No work, just you guys having the trip you were supposed to. Oh and Santa wants you to go check in the garage in the backseat of your car. He left a little early present for you.
Love Santa
“You’re a sap Santa,” you said, taking a bite. “But I love ya you big dork.”
“Hello,” yawned TJ, scratching his bare belly as he walked into the kitchen. “Any pizza left?”
“Yeah,” you said, TJ choosing to eat a piece straight from the box cold. “Santa paid us a visit.”
“Jensen texted me before bed and said he might be dropping by. Told me not to shoot him if I caught him,” he said as you slid the letter over. “Oh so you got a letter from Santa. That’s new.”
“I’m gonna go get my present,” you said, walking over to the garage and ducking inside, finding a bag in the backseat.
“What’d you get?” he asked, tearing off a chunk of crust. You set the bag on the counter, chuckling when you pulled out a bottle of wine with a key and card on it. “What is it?”
“Storage containers come in handy for Santa’s with children that like to snoop,” you read off the card. “My parents got us five years at a storage container to hide christmas presents for the kids.”
“That’s a genius idea,” said TJ. “Allie‘a gonna be able to figure out how to get up on a chair and find presents in the closet next year.”
“I say we take all the advice Santa is willing to give,” you said. TJ took the key and popped it in the dish by the garage, picking up the bottle of wine on his way back in. “What’d they give us?”
“A bottle of that Cabernet they get us for our anniversary. You and Jensen have a talk or something?”
“It’s my father. What do you think?” you said. You yawned and stretched out, TJ patting your butt when you got up.
“Back to bed young lady.”
“Only cause I’m tired,” you said, heading down the hall. “Don’t take long.”
“I’ll be right there,” he said. You curled up in bed, safely setting the letter on your nightstand until you could tuck it away with the others you’d gotten over the years. You rolled into the middle, stealing part of TJ’s blanket and letting out a soft sigh.
“Thomas,” you said when he came back in, lazily getting under covers and burrowing into you. “My parents don’t know about our present for them right?”
“Nope. The suckers won’t know what him ‘em.”
“Good,” you said, TJ pulling your arms over his waist. You kissed his forehead and hummed, TJ already starting to drift off. “Night sweetheart.”
“Night Y/N.”
_______
A/N: Read the Canada Trip timestamp here!
#spnchristmasbingo#spn#supernatural#jensen x daughter!reader#rpf#au#spn fanfic#supernatural fanfic#jensen ackles#jensen ackles x daughter!reader#series
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Monegasque Kiss | Charles Leclerc
Fandom: Formula one
Warning: My favorite trope, pining after each other and then confess your love. Friends to lovers. 2500 words. I enjoyed writing this a LOT.
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x neutral!reader
Summary: You and Charles are pining after one another and it ends up with a kiss, with some help from Pierre Gasly
A/N: Once again I’m thanking Screnwriter’s prompts, nr. 10, for sparking my inspiration to write, your prompts are the best! Gif by dams-racing. Honestly, I’m having such a blast writing for Charles and the other drivers, it really inspires me to continue writing.
There were some perks with being friends with formula one drivers. For instance you could go watch them race and kick ass on the tracks. You had known Charles and Pierre since you were younger. You had the fortune to meet them when they raced go kart and you just happened to be in Monaco on vacation with your family when their race was there. You had met them by accident and the three of you had stayed in touch ever since that day. Even though you couldn’t meet them as much as you wanted, you were happy to accompany them on their races, especially when it was in Monaco.
You were by the docks looking at the people on their boats. Music started blasting through the speakers on the boats and people talked loudly to overpower the sound. Champagne was popping, spilling onto the wooden deck and laughter was heard from tipsy people. Girls were tanning on the deck and guys shouting at the people below. But you loved this, the commotion of people and how happy everyone was.
Screams were heard behind you when you saw that the big screen was showing all the drivers and that the drivers were posing in front of said screen. The crowd cheered the loudest when Charles' face was shown and he walked in front of it. Your heart made a jump when you saw him. Ever since that day many years ago, you had had a crush on Charles. But there was no way in hell that you were going to tell him that. Your friendship were too important to destroy by a stupid crush. But something inside you hoped, wished that he felt the same towards you.
Pierre had seen you on the docks and made his way over to you, hugging you from behind. You shrieked, but soon relaxed when you realized who it was. Pierre laughed loudly at your reaction.
“Pierre, you scared the living shit out of me.” you said and smacked him on the arm. His smile just grew even wider.
“I didn’t know that you would be here so soon, (Y/N). I thought me or Charles were going to pick you up at the airport when you landed.”
“No need to, plus I didn’t want to ruin your fashion show down there.” you said and winked at him. He shoved you slightly which made you giggle. The two of you walked towards one of the cafés. The weather was amazing. You and Pierre caught up with everything while waiting for Charles to arrive. Pierre talked about the race and how he had enjoyed some time to hang out with his friends. You talked about your life and what was going on there. This was the first race that you could attend in Europe and you were happy that it was in Monaco.
“So, anyone special at home?” he asked, with a look on his face like he knew something. You looked at him suspiciously.
“No, why?”
“Well you are beautiful. I just wondered why you haven’t found someone yet.” his smirk grew.
He definitely knew.
“Thank you, Pierre. I don’t know.” you tried to sound innocent and oblivious. “Maybe I haven’t found the right one.”
“Or the right one haven’t asked you.” he mumbled into his coffee, which made you turn bright red.
Charles was on his way to your location and he had stopped by a flower shop to buy you some flowers. It had been ages since he had seen you and he wanted to give you something. He had seen you and Pierre hug on the docks, which made him feel a wave of jealousy crash inside of him. But he didn’t want to admit it to himself. The two of you were friends, nothing more, nothing less. But god did he hope for more.
He rounded the corner to see the two of you talking at the café. The sting of jealousy came back again, because it looked like the two of you were on a date. But he tried to dismiss the thought and put on the biggest smile on his face. Pierre saw him first and waved him over, which made you turn to face him. Charles stopped in his tracks when his eyes met yours. His stomach filled with butterflies and he could feel his face getting flustered.
You rose from your chair to run to him and you gave him the biggest hug.
“God how I have missed you, Charles.” you said. He hugged you back and inhaled your scent. How he had missed your hugs and your scent.
“I have missed you so much, (Y/N).”
He let go of you.
“These are for you.”
He gave you the flowers he had bought and you had the biggest smile plastered on your face.
“You didn’t have to.”
“I wanted to.”
“Thank you so much, Charles.” you beamed and smelled the flowers.
The two of you joined Pierre by the café and continued your chat for some time. You talked about everything and nothing.
“(Y/N), you should join us tonight at the party.” Pierre said.
“There’s a party tonight?”
“Yes, it’s on one of the yacht’s by the dock. I’m sure that you can come as our plus one.” Pierre said and winked at you, which made Charles' expression sour.
“Sounds fun and I get to hang out with you guys even more.” you smiled.
“Great, there will be more formula one drivers there tonight. But just stay close to us and you’ll be fine.”
“What time is it?”
“Around seven.”
“Great, can you pick me up by my hotel before that?”
“Of course.” they both said.
You grabbed your flowers and left them to get ready for the party. Inhaling the scent one once again and felt the butterflies go nuts in your stomach.
He gave you flowers!
At the hotel you had packed some more fancy clothes, in case this happened and now you were extremely happy that you did. You were done just in time when someone knocked on your door. Outside stood Charles in a blue shirt and he looked ravishing. You opened and his face flustered by your fancy attire.
“Wow, you look amazing.” he breathed. You blushed by his comment and invited him in. He closed the door and sat down on the bed.
“You know, you could’ve stayed at my place for your time here.” Charles said. You froze by his statement and he saw your reaction and he could feel the panic grow inside him.
“I-if you wanted, that is.” he stuttered trying to save the situation. “You are always welcome, you know.”
His hand touched his neck in a nervous gesture and his face was even more flustered than before. You tried to not think too much about what he said, he wanted to be a kind friend towards you. Nothing more, nothing less.
“Thank you, Charles. I will surely take that offer next time I’m in Monaco to see you.” you said and took one last glance in the mirror before the two of you headed for the lobby. The ride towards the party was fun, the two of you cracked jokes which made you cry with laughter. Charles felt proud that he could make you laugh like this and he enjoyed that the two of you were alone.
On the yacht there were people everywhere, talking, drinking, you think you saw someone making out with someone behind the stairs. To give the lovely couple some privacy you turned around to walk over to the bar. Charles and Pierre had to do some interviews and mingle with the bosses and such, which made you stand alone for a while. But you didn’t care, because then you could watch the different people that were at the party. You saw Lewis Hamilton, Max Verstappen and Sebastian Vettel. In one corner you could see Daniel Ricciarido laugh with some people you didn’t recognize.
Sebastian had seen you alone and came up to you. Charles had introduced you when Sebastian was racing for Ferrari and you could tell that Charles looked up to Sebastian. The two of you got along well as well, which made Charles even more happy. However, Sebastian could see the looks the monegasque racer gave you when you weren’t looking. The wistful and yearning looks that only a love-sick person could give. The slight tint of pink on his cheeks whenever you gave him attention or how his attention or body was always turned towards you, no matter what.
“Hey, (Y/N).” he said and embraced you.
“Hey, Sebastian.”
“Enjoying the party?” he said and let go of you.
“It’s nicer now that I have someone to talk to.” you joked and looked over to Pierre and Charles doing some interviews with reporters. Sebastian could see the look you gave them, especially Charles. He felt bad for you that you felt alone.
“Well, I can introduce you to some people if you want?” he asked. You nodded and followed him towards the crowd of the other racers. You met Max, Sergio and Lewis.
Charles had glanced over at you to see that you were doing okay, but that wave of jealousy came crashing inside of him when he saw you talking to the other racers. And with the jealousy came the worry. You turned around to meet his piercing eyes and you smiled at him. His insides melted by your smile and some of the worry and jealousy went away. Some of it, but not all.
When the interview was over he and Pierre went over to the bar. Charles ordered two drinks, one for him and one for you.
“Some encouragement?” Pierre asked.
“For what?”
“Asking (Y/N) to be yours?”
Charles almost choked on air by Pierre’s statement.
“What are you talking about? She is a friend.”
“Yeaaah, a friend that you like… or even more than that.”
Charles just shook his head and headed over to you. You smiled at him when he reached you and someone said that we should continue the conversation on the sofas nearby. The crowd started moving towards the sofas and somehow you didn’t get a seat. Pierre came by to slightly nudge you so that you lost your balance and landed in Charles lap.
“I’m so sorry.” you said frantic, feeling yourself getting flustered, but not as flustered as Charles. You tried to get up from his lap, but he wouldn’t let you.
“I-it’s fine. You can sit here, since there is no other room for you to sit.” he stuttered and eyed Pierre. Pierre just raised his glas towards him and continued his conversation with Esteban. Trying his best to look innocent, but it was exactly the opposite. You nodded and tried your best not to blush profusely. His body was radiating so much heat and you took some deep breaths and tried to relax. But the tention between you and Charles. You could cut it with a knife and you bet that the both of you were blushing messes at the moment. Charles didn’t know where to keep his hands and you didn’t want to move around to much. Charles wanted to both kill Pierre for doing this and thank him at the same time. But now he mostly wanted to kill him. You could feel how stiff your posture was in his lap and tried your best to not lean against him too much. But you wanted too. Charles' hand found its way on your lower back, to act as a backrest. You tried to act cool, but this whole situation made your mind and body freak out. How could you focus on anything else than Charles hand on you back? His warm body and his muscular thighs which you were currently sitting on?
You tried to continue your conversations with the boys. Throughout the night Charles got more and more bold with his actions. It started with that he rested his other hand on your thigh, which made you freeze when he did it, but you soon relaxed to his touch. Then he started to pull you closer to his chest so you were resting against his chest. You could feel it rise up and down, but he hoped that you couldn’t hear his racing heart over how close you were to him. Your arms snaked around his waist and you rested your head against his shoulder. He had a hard time breathing normally with you so close to him.
Later that evening Pierre joined you, which made you break apart from your cozy situation. You and Pierre were talking about some silly things, as usual, and now there was room for you to sit on the sofa, but you didn’t want to leave Charles' lap. Somehow, you had gotten into the topic of different kissing techniques. This made Charles pull you even closer to himself, as he didn’t like the topic that you and Pierre were discussing.
“Have you ever had a french kiss (Y/N)?”
“No, I don’t think so, why?”
“Well, there are a lot of french people here, would you like to try it with a real french man?” he smirked and you burst into laughter, which made you fall of Charles lap and landed between the boys instead. This made Charles expression sour even more. You and Pierre shared a loud and long laughter by what Pierre just said, but Charles… not so much. His eyes darkened as he looked over to his best friend.
“In your dreams, Pierre.” you said and dried away some tears and shoved him away from you.
“Perhaps, but it is certainly in someone else’s dreams.” he said and patted you on the knee and left. You looked at him confused and then turned around to Charles. His eyes were still dark as he followed Pierre, but his flustered cheeks told you something else.
“Do you know what he was talking about?”
Charles’ directed his attention towards you again, trying his best to look unbothered.
“No.” he lied.
You shrugged your shoulders and rose from the sofa.
“Come on, let’s look over the city.”
You grabbed his hand, feeling more bold now that you had sat in his lap for most of the evening. You dragged him towards the railing and looked over Monte Carlo. You hadn’t let go of his hand when you looked over the city. He drew you closer to him and you let your head rest on his arm. Then his curiosity sparked from the conversation you had with Pierre before.
“You haven’t had a french kiss?”
“No, I haven’t.” you laughed but tried to hide the nerves and your embarrassment over the topic. Charles nodded and turned around to face you. You looked at him curiously, which made his stomach do flips. How gorgeous you looked in this light, or in every light for that matter. Your smile, your hair, your laughter, you personality, it was all perfection to him. A wave of confidence crashed inside of him and he saw his chance now. He wanted to be with you and he hoped that you felt the same towards him.
It’s now or never, he thought.
“Well if you haven’t had a french kiss, you probably haven’t had a monegasque kiss.” Charles said with a smirk on his face. He let his hand touch your arm slightly, drawing circles on it.
“A monegasque kiss? What is that?” you asked.
“It’s like a french kiss but better.”
“Better?”
“Yes, because it is with me... “ Charles leaned in closer to you. “And you.”
He closed the gap between the two of you. One of his hands grabbed your cheek while the other hand was on your lower back, pulling you closer to him. Sparks flew as your bodies touched and you stopped breathing for a second, which made Charles nervous. But you soon realized what was happening and you moved in sync with his lips. It felt like no time had passed but your lungs were screaming for air. You broke apart from the kiss, looking into each other’s eyes.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that.” Charles breathed. You just beamed over what had just happened. Charles’ hand caressed your cheek.
“So… What Pierre said about me kissing a certain someone in a certain someone’s dreams. Was that you?”
“Guilty.” He said and from the back you could hear Pierre cheering and shouting something like ‘finally you guys did it!’.
You just laughed and kissed Charles again, which would be one of many kisses to come and quite frankly, you enjoyed the monegasque kiss much more than you would ever like any other kiss in the future.
A/N: Thank you for reading! 🥰
TAGS: @ohmyolympusssy @baueoud @marvelishgirl
#charles leclerc oneshots#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc imagine#f1 x reader#f1 imagines#f1 fandom#f1 imagine#f1#imagine#imagines#charles leclerc imagines#harleysarchive
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Sweeter Than This
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!spy!Reader
Words: Mobile again ☹️
Summary: You almost miss your first Valentine’s Day with Bucky, but you have a plan to make it up to him.
Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex(f receiving), salad tossing, unprotected anal sex, use of butt plug), violence (standard canon stuff), SMUT, 18+ ONLY!!!!
A/N: Happy V-Day y’all! Here’s the next entry in my Holidays With Bucky series (with so Sam sprinkled in) and it’s a fun one! Unfortunately, the power is out at my place right now due to snow and because my city sucks at preparations I’m probably not going to have power until at least Monday, so we’ll see if I’m able to deliver on my other promised Valentine’s treats for you all.
Check out my masterlist and join my taglist if you want!
Bucky hated clubs so much.
The loud music, the overcrowding, the overpriced drinks. He was absolutely miserable.
It didn’t help that Sam was bouncing around like an idiot, enjoying the atmosphere with a stupid grin on his face. Would it kill the man to act like a professional for once?
They’d followed the target to the Cross Club here in Prague after four days of surveillance with nothing to show for it, and now they were watching him talk to some new player in a VIP booth. God he hoped this would be over soon.
“What?” Buck shouted over the music. Sam had said something, but even with his super soldier hearing, he couldn’t make it out over the thumping bass.
“I said, is Y/N pissed you’re missing Valentines Day?” Sam yelled, his hips still moving in time to the music.
Bucky did some quick mental math and cursed under his breath. He hadn’t seen you in almost 3 weeks. You had to head back to the States for some stupid debrief with Sharon and the big bosses while he and Sam kept chasing leads on Zemo here in Europe. He hadn’t even realized it was Valentines Day.
“Shit, he’s moving.” Sam said, tapping Buck on the shoulder as the mark stood up and moved towards the dance floor.
“Fuck, can’t we go around?” Bucky whined, starting to follow after Sam towards the crowd.
“Y’know, when your girlfriend’s not around, you’re such an old man.” Sam teased. “We don’t wanna lose him, so pull the stick out of your ass and try to look like you’re enjoying yourself.”
Buck just rolled his eyes and trailed after him, doing his best to avoid the writhing, sweaty bodies that kept trying to grind against him. Sam was right, it was a lot easier to enjoy these types of ops when you were with him.
He didn’t know how they managed to keep eyes on the target as he moved through the crowd, but they saw him head out one of the exits and were following after him within a few minutes.
“Hey, Wilson? Where the fuck is he?” Buck hissed as he opened the door to an empty alley.
“Shit, hold on, let me pull up Redwing.”
“I still can’t believe you named that fucking thing.” Buck said exasperatedly.
Sam didn’t have a chance to reply before a motorcycle ripped past the two of them.
“Was that him?” Bucky yelled as he whipped his head after it. “Motherfucker!”
“Calm down, I got it.” Sam said, summoning his wings.
“Oh, I guess I’ll just run after him then? I told you we should’ve brought a car!”
“I could carry you.” Sam said teasingly, giving Bucky a stupid grin.
“Oh fuck you.” Buck said, flipping Sam off as he chuckled at him. “Shit!”
The two of them dove out of the way as a Lexus tore into the alley, stopping just short of hitting them.
“Hey assholes! Happy Valentine’s Day!!!” You shouted as you rolled down the window, a massive grin splitting your face.
“Baby!? What’re you doing here?!?” Bucky asked, beaming back at you.
“I had to get the fuck out of D.C. There was no way I’d miss our first Valentine’s Day! Besides, I missed the field! Now get in, I managed to tag his bike but I don’t want him to get out of range.”
“Shotgun!” Sam called with a grin on his face, making you laugh.
“What?!? Fuck you Wilson! You’re gonna make me sit in the back when this is the first time I’ve seen my girl in weeks?” Bucky said in disbelief.
“Sorry Barnes, you should’ve called it!”
“Yeah babe, you really should’ve called it.” You teased as he crawled into the back of the vehicle with a scowl.
“I can’t believe you’re taking his side.” He pouted at you as Sam climbed after him, bringing the back of his seat up to crash against Buck’s knees.
“There’s no sides, honey, it’s shotgun rules.” You said as you peeled out of the alleyway.
“Whatever, could you move your seat up Wilson?”
“Nope.” Sam said grinning over his shoulder before cursing under his breath and bracing one hand against the ceiling as you swerved around a slow moving van. “Jesus, Y/N! Maybe take it a little slower, we’re still in the city.”
You just snorted before taking a sharp turn at an inadvisable speed, barely tapping on the brakes and sending Bucky sliding across the backseat.
“Put your seatbelts on, idiots.” You scolded as the two of them tried to find something to grab onto.
“Honey, pedestrian, pedestrian, Pedestrian!!!” Buck screamed as he buckled himself in, screwing his eyes closed.
“Yeah, I see them.” You said as you took another turn at the last second, barely missing the man who was crossing the street.
“Oh my god! This is how I’m going to die.” Sam said, his knuckles white on the dashboard as you flew up a hill, the car actually suspending in midair for a beat before crashing back to the street with a jolt. “Stuck in a car with a crazy woman and her 100 year old boyfriend.”
“You’re so fucking dramatic.” You said with an eye roll, glancing at him sideways. “It’s like you’ve never been in a high speed chase before.”
“Eyes on the road!” Bucky shouted at you as an unsuspecting couple started to step off the curb directly into your path.
You hopped onto the walkway behind them to avoid the brake lights in front of you and your two passengers started letting out a steady stream of curses as you weaved between pedestrians and carts.
“Just relax you two, we’ve almost got him.” You said exasperatedly, somehow speeding up even more.
You rounded another corner and the bike popped into view, speeding out of the city at a breakneck speed.
“Shit, gun!” Sam screamed as the biker turned around, hefting an AK-47 and pointing it directly at the windshield.
He and Bucky ducked, hands covering their heads. They flinched as they heard a series of pops, then straightened up slowly when they realized the windshield was still intact.
“Yeah, it’s bulletproof.” You said with a grin as you kept the car steady with one hand, reaching under your seat to grab something. You handed a giant pistol to Sam. “There should be a rifle under the backseat, baby.”
“And what exactly do you want us to do with these?” Sam asked warily as Bucky drew out the rifle and nodded appreciatively.
“Shoot at him.” You said, following the bike around a sharp turn that had the boys bracing themselves.
“Fuck that! If you think I’m sticking half my body out of a window while you’re driving like this you’re insane!” Sam said in disbelief. “Besides the car is bulletproof.
“Yeah, well the tires aren’t, and if he hits one of those while I’m driving this fast, we’re all gonna get shredded.”
Bucky shook his head before rolling down his window and pulling his upper body out of the car, bringing the rifle up to return fire.
“You are both fucking crazy!” Sam said, rolling his own window down and shoving his shoulders out, bringing up his pistol.
The biker turned his focus to Bucky while Sam covered him, and you took the opportunity to speed up.
“What’re you doing, babe?” Bucky shouted into the car as you started to get closer to the bike.
“I’m gonna ram him.” You yelled back. “Keep covering me!”
“Umm, isn’t he supposed to lead us to Zemo? Shit!” Sam yelled, a bullet whizzing by his ear.
“I don’t think he’s leading us anywhere Sammy.”
“Well, we could still get information out of him!”
“Yeah, these guys have proven to be pretty impervious to interrogations, Wilson.” Buck said, gripping the roof of the car with his vibranium hand as you followed the bike around another curve.
“I really just need his phone!” You yelled as you closed the distance even further, now only 25 feet from the back tire of the bike. “You might want to get back inside.”
Sam yanked his upper body back into the vehicle with a curse and Buck slid back inside easily as you pressed the gas pedal to the floor. You hit the bike in a few seconds and sent it and the rider rolling over the car with a thud. As soon as it was clear you slammed on the brakes, sending the vehicle spinning out.
“Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod....” Sam was screaming as the car whipped around over and over, his eyes screwed shut and his hand braced against the roof of the vehicle while his foot braced against the dashboard.
Bucky just clenched his jaw and ripped his vibranium fingers through the back door to hold himself in place, shaking his head at Wilson.
The vehicle finally came to a stop about 200 feet away from where the bike had crashed. Sam wrenched his door open and dove out of the car, bending over and vomiting at the side of the road.
“You ok there Sammy?” You asked, rising from the driver’s seat gracefully and looking at your friend with concern as Bucky almost climbed over the front seat with a wince and joined you.
“Oh, what are you wearing?” He groaned as he finally got a good look at you. “Are you trying to kill me?”
It was a skin tight, patent leather pink dress that was pushing your tits together and up in an absolutely delicious way. The skirt barely covered your ass and he was sure there was no way you could bend over in it without flashing whoever was nearby.
“I told you, baby, it’s Valentines Day.” You sad with a grin as you stepped closer to him.
He moved to wrap his arms around you but you stepped away at the last second, moving back towards where the bike crashed with a light laugh as he let out a frustrated huff.
“What is wrong with you two?!” Sam said as he started to follow after you. “Your girlfriend almost kills me and all you want to do is jump her as soon as it’s over.”
“I mean, did you see that dress?” Bucky said teasingly as he joined your friend, walking a little faster to catch up with you.
“Got the phone!!” You said triumphantly as you straightened back up from your inspection of the dead body. “And it’s still in ok shape! I’m gonna call this in real quick and then we can head back.”
“No! I’m not going anywhere if you’re driving!” Sam said, shaking his head vehemently. “Gimme the keys.”
“C’mon Sammy!” You said with an eye roll.
“You do not get to call me Sammy right now, you psycho!” He said, snatching the keys out of your outstretched hand as you laughed at him. “And neither of you gets to sit shotgun! You sit in the back and think about what you’ve done.”
“Jesus, fine dad.” You said as you slid into the back seat, Bucky chuckling as he slid in after you and slammed the door closed.
Sam pulled the car forward a few feet, turning the wheel sharply before throwing it in reverse and spinning it in the opposite direction as he backed up.
“Uh, Sammy?” You said as he repeated the process. “Maybe just crank the wheel all the way and pull a little further forward?”
“Yeah, it’s not called a 13 point turn, Wilson.”
“Both of you shut the fuck up!! I’m not taking driving advice from you!” He shouted over his shoulder as he did the exact same thing and you lost it, laughing hysterically.
“Oh my god, there’s like 15 feet of road that you’re not using!” You said breathlessly as you cracked up Bucky grinning as he watched you fold over in laughter.
“I cannot believe the shit I have to put up with.” He muttered as he finally straightened out the vehicle and drove back towards the city, doing his best to ignore your dying laughter.
Bucky was beaming at you as you settled down, leaning back against the seat as you wiped tears from your eyes. You smiled back at him and gave him a wink.
“Did I tell you how much I love that dress?” He said as he scooted closer to you, his eyes raking over your chest before sinking lower to gaze at your thighs.
“No.” You said teasingly, biting your lip at him and leaning towards him just a little bit.
“Cuz I fucking love that dress.” He growled at you as he wrapped his hands around your waist and drew you closer, nuzzling himself into your neck.
You gave a soft sigh as he ran his teeth over your throat, flinging one leg over his lap as he moved his vibranium hand from your waist to cup your ass. He moved his mouth up to the hinge of your jaw as he pressed you into him.
“Shit, Bucky.” You moaned as he pulled you onto his lap, his hands running over your thighs to tuck under your skirt as he sucked a bruise against your neck. “I swear to god, if you ruin this dress...”
“Oh, what the fuck guys?!” Sam said as he peeked at you through the rear view mirror. “I’m two feet away from you! It’s like you’re a couple of teenagers.”
“Sorry Sammy!” You whined before letting out a gasp as Bucky nuzzled himself between your tits at the same time he bucked his hips up into you, grinding his hardening cock against you.
“Oh, I do not get paid enough for this shit.” Sam groaned as he pulled the car into the parking lot of the hotel and jolted it to a halt. “I cannot believe I have to put up with you horny idiots.”
“Bye Sam!” You called after him as he slammed the door closed, waving a dismissive hand at you as he started to head back to his room. “Mmm, Bucky!”
He drew the straps of your dress down over your arms and wrapped his lips around one of your nipples as you arched your back into his face.
“Jesus Christ, I fucking missed you.” He groaned before moving his mouth up to yours, sucking your bottom lip between his teeth as he laid you down across the backseat.
“Yeah? What’d you miss baby?” You murmured against his lips, wrapping your legs around him and ripping his shirt over his head.
“Missed the way you smell.” He murmured against your neck as he nuzzled into your hair. “Missed these fucking perfect tits and how well they fit in my hands.” He whispered into your ear as he brought his hands up to palm your breasts, making you whine.
“Fuck, baby. You’re making me so wet.” You said breathlessly as a fresh rush of arousal leaked out of you, your fingers moving to work at undoing his fly.
“Good.” He growled against your collarbone as his he dipped one hand under your ass and pressed you into his hard on. “Cuz I missed that pussy the fucking most.”
“Shit.” You hissed as his vibranium hand ripped off your panties in one quick motion before his hands moved to shove your dress up around your waist. “Don’t you dare fucking rip this dress, Barnes!”
“I’m being careful.” He said with a chuckle before lining himself up. He teased his tip against your entrance before slowly sinking into you, grinning as he watched your eyes roll back in your skull as your lids fluttered, a moan escaping from your lips.
He drew himself out halfway, really taking his time as he felt himself drag against every inch of the warm channel between your legs, then slammed his hips forward with enough force that you had to brace your hand against the door to keep your head from cracking against it. You had to bite your lip to keep from screaming as you came immediately, your back arching up off the seat as your pussy spasmed and fluttered around his cock.
“Fuck, sweetheart, you miss me too?” Bucky said with a grin as he kept fucking into you, watching your chest heave as you started to come down from your first orgasm. He hooked one hand under your knee and drew it up to your waist, spreading you apart even further.
“Shit, yes!” You moaned as his dick thrust even deeper into you, hitting a new spot that had you seeing stars. “Missed this cock so fucking much.”
“Yeah? You miss feeling me in this tight little pussy?” He said as he felt you clench around him, your hips meeting his thrusts desperately.
“Fuck, Bucky! My pussy needs you so bad. Need your big cock inside me all the time.” You let out a gasp as he brought his vibranium hand between the two of you to strum at your clit. You wrapped your hand around his wrist to keep him in place as you tossed your head back. “Need to feel you stretch me and split me open, baby.”
“Jesus, keep talking.” He murmured as he collapsed on top of you, burying his face in your neck as he started moving his hips even faster. “Love hearing you use that filthy mouth of yours.”
“Yeah, babe? You wanna hear me talk about how much this pussy needs your big cock?” Your grinned when he let out a groan against your neck. “My pussy would get so fucking wet every time I thought about that dick. Nobody fucks me like you do. Oh god, right there!”
“Damn, honey. You’re squeezing me so good. You gonna cum again?”
You just nodded before a sob ripped through your chest, your knuckles turning white as your grip on his vibranium wrist tightening and a wave a pleasure crashed over you. Your legs squeezed his hips as you thumped your fist against the door, your torso rolling underneath Bucky as your cunt clamped down on him, making him twitch.
You felt his hips stuttering as you writhed underneath him, and with just a few thrusts he was filling you up, panting against your neck as he sank on top of you, pressing his full weight into you as he came down.
“Oh my god, happy fucking Valentine’s Day.” He moaned into your hair.
“Shit, I still need to give you your present, baby!!” You said with a grin as you ran your hands over his shoulders.
“I don’t need a present, sweetheart.” He said lazily before peppering soft kisses over your throat.
“Oh, I really think you’re gonna want to open this one.” You sighed, wriggling a little underneath him.
You grabbed his flesh hand and drew it between your legs slowly, dragging it over your sex until his fingers brushed against the jewel that was nestled between your ass cheeks. He sat up with a jolt when he realized what you were suggesting, making you laugh excitedly as he gave you a massive grin.
“Oh my god, Y/N, I’ve been waiting for this.” He said as he flipped you over, smacking your ass as you giggled at him. He spread your cheeks apart and groaned when he got a look at the pink jewel of the plug you had inserted earlier in the day.
He gripped the plug and drew it out of you slowly, biting his lower lip as he watched you pussy clench at the sensation. His breath came out in a hiss once it was free, your pretty hole gaping and fluttering at the loss as you moaned underneath him, pressing your ass back into his palms.
“Fuck, I’m gonna make you feel so good.”
He didn’t give you a chance to respond before he was yanking your hips back and up, tossing your thighs over his shoulders. You let out a shriek when he ran his tongue over your cunt in a heavy stripe before dragging the flat of the thick muscle over your asshole.
“Fuck, oh my god!” You screamed, trying to find something to brace yourself against as he ran the tip of his tongue around your rim, teasing you and making both of your holes throb with need.
He kept teasing you with his tongue for what felt like hours, alternating between heavy drags that ran over your entire sex and tiny kitten licks that were turning you into a begging, whimpering mess, a steady stream of slick leaking out of your swollen pussy.
“Gotta make sure you’re good and ready for me, gorgeous.” He murmured, giving you a momentary reprieve before he shoved his tongue inside your puckered hole.
The sound you made was otherworldly, halfway between a moan and a cry. He almost came just from the pure wantonness of it, and he felt his cock twitching against your chest as he started to tongue-fuck you. You pressed your cheek to the leather of the seat as he took you apart, mewling like an idiot as he stretched you open, his thick muscle probing you as deep as he could.
“Bucky...” you mumbled before another orgasm shook you, your cunt fluttering around nothing as a wave of bliss traveled up your spine from deep in your core and making you whine as drool leaked from the corner of your mouth.
He pulled his face away from you suddenly and unwrapped his arms from around your thighs. Your muscles were jelly as he lowered your hips, your eyelids drooping as you moaned at the loss of him. Once he finally had you laid back down, he took a second to gaze at you.
He loved how fucked out you got. Your limbs were splayed out at random angles as your back rose and fell with deep breaths, the curves of your breasts just peeking out from where they were pressed against the seat. He brushed your hair away from your face to see you grinning up at him, your cheeks streaked with tears and mascara and your lipstick smeared all over your mouth and chin as you looked at him with lust blown pupils.
“We’re still not done.” He said softly before wrapping his hand around your throat and yanking you up until your back was flush against his chest, making you gasp. He brought his other hand between you to wrap around his cock and dragged it through the slick that had soaked your ruined pussy before teasing his tip against the rim of your tightest hole. “I think you’re ready for me.”
He didn’t wait for you to answer before shoving his hips forward and spearing into you. Your body tried to jolt forward at the intrusion but his palm on your throat kept you in place, holding you still as he bottomed out.
“Jesus Christ, you feel amazing.” He muttered into your hair, his fingers vibrating over your throat as you let out a whine.
He pressed down against your jugular as he started to move his hips, dragging in and out of you at a deliciously slow pace that had you keening. You were losing yourself in the new sensation of having him fill your tightest channel, his thick cock stretching you more than you’d ever been before. Your head dropped back on his shoulder as he started to move faster, the slick leaking from your pussy making it easier for him to slide in and out of you.
“Fuck, I love your body. You treat me so good baby.” He murmured against the shell of your ear. “Wanna fill all your your pretty holes and pump you full of my cum. Wish I could be inside you all the time, pretty girl.”
Your pussy was fluttering around nothing as his soft praises filled your ears, and when he dropped his hand to the apex of your thighs you almost came immediately with a cry.
“You didn’t think I forgot about this pretty pussy, did you baby?” He whispered as his metal fingers spread you apart, teasing over your entrance as his flesh hand increased the pressure on your airway and his hips picked up the pace. “You want me to fuck you with my fingers while my cock’s in your ass, honey?”
“Fuck, Bucky, I want you to spank it.” You moaned as he continued to tease you, your brain starting to shut down as the mixture of sensations overwhelmed you.
He let out a feral growl against the curve of your neck before wrapping his lips around your earlobe. “Shit, you gonna cum if I spank it?” He hissed in your ear as he kept his fingers running over your sex.
“Yeah, I’m gonna fucking cum! Need you to spank my pussy, Bucky, please.”
His teeth nipped at the hollow behind your ear at the same time he smacked your cunt and you let out a shriek as your body vibrated against him. Your thighs quivered with strain as your pussy spasmed uncontrollably, your asshole strangling Bucky’s cock as you shook in your bliss, his hand around your neck the only thing keeping you upright.
“Fuuuuck.” He hissed against your neck as his hips chased his own release. “I wanna fuck all your holes while I cum, sweetheart, get ready.”
You only had a second before he was shoving three fingers into your pussy at the same time he put two fingers in your mouth, choking you as he shoved them down your throat before you were able to relax. He groaned when you started sucking on him, swirling your tongue around his digits while his vibranium fingers curled inside of you against that sweet spot that made your eyes roll back in your skull.
He felt you clench around him everywhere and let out a groan into your hair, his cock twitching inside you as you both neared your ends.
He ground his palm against your clit and you were finished, sobbing around his fingers as you squirted your release all over his hands, his thighs, and the seat in what was the biggest orgasm of your life. Your body tried to lift itself off the seat as you came, your vision whiting out as your muscles stopped working and Bucky let you collapse forward as he finished.
Another few thrusts of his stuttering hips and he let out a wordless roar as he came inside you, filling you completely with his spend until it was leaking out around his cock. He collapsed on top of you as his body rolled on a wave of pleasure, his breath hitching in his chest.
The two of you laid there tangled with each other for what felt like hours. You were so utterly spent that the passage of time no longer held any meaning, and you completely forgot where you were.
“Holy fuck.” Bucky muttered after a while, still unable to move anything except his face, which he nuzzled into your hair.
“Yeah.” You muttered into the seat cushions, your brain finally resetting.
“I mean, holy fuck.” He couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“Yeah.” You said again, wiggling your toes look experimentally as your body started to come back down.
“I’ve never cum that hard before in my life.” He muttered as he drew his hands over your arms until they were pressing into your shoulders, moving your hair aside so he could pepper kisses all over your neck.
“Me either.” You whispered, turning your head over your shoulder so you could press your lips to his softly.
He pulled away once he was able, giving you a sloppy grin as he managed to sit up, pulling out of you gingerly and groaning at the sight of his cum leaking out of you. You twisted until you were able to sit up yourself, leaning back against the car door as you beamed back at him.
“Best fucking Valentine’s Day ever.” He muttered, drawing you onto his lap to kiss you deeply, and wondering if it would be too tacky to tell you he loved you after the first time you let him fuck your ass.
Tags!!!!!
@buckysnumberonegirl @slothspaghettiwrites @captain-asguard @starlightcrystalline @harrysthiccthighss @quxxnxfhxll @bonkywobble @chrisevanscardigan @chubbybuckydumpling @StanAllStarks @blackestpinkworld @fistmebuckyskywalker @wandering-spiritash @khadineberry @muzzyandbusy @slytheriin2002 @isysen @WanderingAlice00 @kaleeelizabeth58 @tlcwrites @angrybirdcr @unsaltedalmonds @amerikakapitanyy @lizette50 @daughterofthenight117 @obsessivereaderchick @drabblewithfrannybarnes @stargazingfangirl18 @jack-skellingtons-stuff @chrissquares @msmarvelwrites
#natalie writes#valentine's day#fanfic#fanfiction#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x you#bucky fic#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky imagine#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes x reader smut#bucky barnes reader insert#sebastian stan characters#sebastian stan fanfic#sebastian stan smut#seb stan smut#smut#eighteen and over#eighteen plus#marvel smut imagines#marvel smut#marvel fanfiction#the falcon and the winter soldier#do not interact if you are a minor
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