#like. the first season they were funny so i paid attention

[sinofwriting]

I ❤️ MILFS - Max Verstappen

Words: 9,747 Summary: Max wasn’t too sure who the woman was that was always with Logan, but he was sure that he wanted to get to know her. Note(s): Sargeant Reader, Age Gap, Older!Reader, Logan and Oscar are both 20 during the 2023 season, not 22. The 2023 driver standings are different (I am giving Logan the season he should have had). Reader has the nickname Pan (short for momma panther). Logan is sweetheart, Max is head over heels in love. I’m gonna be honest I never thought this fic would get written or finished. I got the idea for it back in December but only started writing it on March 16th. And it would have never happened without @burningcupcakefire & @pucksandpower. Thank you both so much for all your help. (also if anyone wants to see more of Max and Pan, let me know)

Taglist | Masterlist | Emergency Dental Fund

Max remembers the announcement of Oscar’s arrival to F1, the drama and hilarity of it. Sometimes he sees the kids name and has to stop himself from laughing. No nineteen-year-old had any business being that funny.

Max doesn’t remember much of Logan’s announcement to F1. Only that he was young as well, being the first American in forever, and Williams' quick admission that they hadn’t wanted to sign, had wanted to wait another year.

He wishes now that he had paid more attention.

There’s a woman standing in the William’s garage, on Logan’s side. She’s clearly there for him, with the similar pass that his trainer has around her neck, and the way her eyes intently follow Logan’s movements around the garage as he talks to the mechanics and engineers.

She also happens to be the most beautiful woman Max has ever seen.

—

She can’t help but clutch at Benny’s arm the whole race, terror gripping her along with pride.

Benny chuckles when the race comes to an end, Logan doing his cooldown lap and she finally lets go. “And just think you’ve got over twenty more races of this.” Her nose wrinkle and a hand goes over her heart that’s thudding. “Please, Benny.” He chuckles again but pats her shoulder. “You’ve got this.” “Not gonna tell me it gets easier?” He snorts. “No. This is far worse than F2 or F3 and we still were both scared watching him out there. We’ll never know a day of peace now.”

She sighs, watching the screens as it shows the top three getting interviewed and in the background you can see some of the drivers getting weighed. “He’s going to be sore and in pain.” It makes something clench inside her, the knowledge that Logan would be in pain. It was part of the job, the aches and the bruises, but it didn’t make it any easier for her to know. “I’ve already got everything set up as soon as he’s back and debriefs are done.”

Her eyes catch on the screen showing where all the drivers placed and tears prick her eyes and she shakes her head. “Twelfth in his first grand prix. I can’t believe it.”

The garage is filled with chatter as the team celebrates getting their first points of the season and their rookie driver performing better than they expected. The way they don’t even try to whisper it makes her jaw twitch. She was grateful that Williams was giving Logan his dream, but she didn’t like how they were going about it. Quickly and publicly stating that they didn’t want to sign Logan yet, wanted to wait a year. And now this.

A light nudge to her ribs makes her unclench her jaw and she gives Benny a grateful smile.

Both of their attention is quickly drawn however to the two Williams drivers entering the garage, the space filling with cheers.

She smiles as Logan grins at the team, basking in the smiles they have on their faces for him and Alex, the pats on the back he’s getting. The grin turns to a beam when he spots Benny and her and he quickly bounces over to them.

A laugh leaves her at the way Benny pulls him into a bear hug, lifting him off his feet a little. “Proud of you, kid.” He murmurs. She can’t hear what Logan says, but he’s put down and it’s her turn.

She wants to bundle him up in her arms, hold him and not let go, but doesn’t want to embarrass him in front of his team, so she raises a hand and pushes his hair out of his face. “You did amazing, baby.” He smiles at her, all bright and shiny eyes and then he’s wrapping his arms around her, hugging her tight and she’s quick to return it, rubbing his back. “You did so good, Logan. So good. I’m so proud.” She tells him again, pressing a kiss to his sweaty head. “Thank you, momma.” He tells her, hugging her tight for another moment before letting her go. She smiles up at him and god, that makes her heart ache. Her son, her baby, taller than her somehow. She woke up some days and still wasn’t sure where the time had gone and how he was taller than her shoulders. “Go shower and debrief and then Benny and me will take care of you, yeah? And I’ll get your favorite ordered to the hotel, ready as soon as you get there.” He beams at her again, darting forward to press a quick to her cheek before starting to rush away. “Best mom ever!” He calls over his shoulder and she laughs.

—

Y/N Sargeant will never forget the first time she held her son, only then at nine years old, he had been her cousin.

Logan was small, wrinkly, pink skin, and full of small cries. She could remember staring at him with furrowed eyebrows, trying to understand how he could be what her baby dolls were made to be like. She remembers her mama having her sit on the couch after asking her if she wanted to hold him and how she had quickly nodded, hoping that maybe holding him would somehow make him look better.

She remembers the sudden nerves that built in her stomach as her mama started to hand him to her. Remembers being scared that she would drop him, remembers thinking how stupid it would be if he was still weird to look at like this.

And she remembers finally holding that and it disappearing. His small cries, no more, his  wriggling calmed down, and his wrinkles no longer looked weird but cute. She remembers holding him for the first time and feeling unconditional love for the first time in her life.

—

She’s twelve when she realizes that her uncle and aunt don’t like Logan much. It didn’t make sense to her then, still doesn’t know. Because they liked Dalton just fine, but not Logan.

She remembers asking her dad about it. Asking him why they didn’t love Logan, but loved Dalton and worse, she remembers the pained look in his eyes as he realizes that his child picked up on what he and his wife had as well.

It’s the first hard adult conversation she has with her parents and it’s fitting that it’s about Logan, as they sit her down and talk to her about how not all parents love their kids, and how sometimes that includes them only loving one child and not the other.

—

She remembers clearly the first time Logan calls her mom.

It’s her fourteenth birthday and she’s got the four-year-old in her lap as she sits in a rocking chair, reading her English essay aloud for him. Logan’s eyes are closed, head resting on her chest, over her heart, and his little fingers of his one hand are curled in her shirt right by his head.

She wants to sit there forever, reading to him as she rocks back and forth. But she wants another slice of cake before Martha puts it away and Logan needs to sleep in his bed where he can stretch out fully and drool on his pillowcases and not her shirt that Martha will surely tut over but then smile fondly when she sees Logan doing it all over again.

Setting the essay down on her dresser, she runs her now free fingers through his blond hair. “C’mon Logan, time for bed.” He grumbles, fingers tightening on her shirt and she can feel it being pulled slightly. “You can put on your new race car jammies, cuddle with Ello.” He shakes his head, squirming a bit in her lap as he tries to shove himself closer. “Stay with you.” “Oh, baby.” She whispers, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Y’know I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep.” His head shakes again and she has to bite her lip as his head hits her collarbone. “Want cuddles, momma.” Her heart thuds painfully in her chest at the name he called her, tears pricking her eyes. “Okay, baby. Let's get you in jammies, grab Ello, and you can stay with me tonight.”

—

She’s only been eighteen for ten hours when she asks her father for the near impossible.

“I want custody of Logan. I want to adopt him. And I need your help to make that happen.” He stares at her, no expression on his face, not even shock. “He’s,” She pauses, jaw twitching and tears springing to her eyes. “He wants to do karting, just like Dalton. And he’s good at it. I’ve taken him. They told him no. They haven’t bought him clothes in two years. They don’t know a single thing about his school, his grades, his teachers. He hasn’t called David dad since he was six and he hasn’t called Madelyn mom since he was four.” Her hands are formed into fists, nails digging into her palms as she speaks. “I have money, I can provide for him. I’ve got my shares of the company now and I’ve got my inheritance from Grandma Talls. But I know that a judge won’t sign off without some influence.” “Madelyn and Daniel?” She leans forward in her seat, a spark of hope filling her. “I already talked to them, they’ll do it.” One of his hands comes up to rub at his mouth, sighing. Then it drops to open up one of his desk drawers and he’s pulling out a bunch of papers, dropping them on the desk in front of her.

“I figured this was gonna happen and I knew after you talked to them and they called me. They signed away their rights three hours ago. Michael and Lily are waiting outside to come in so you can sign the papers.” Tears slipped from her eyes, joy wrapping itself around her entire being from his words, the fact that he called their family lawyer to be on standby, that he and her mother were so supportive. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” He smiles at her. “I couldn’t say no to you. Not when it comes to Logan. I’m way too young to have a grandkid, let alone one that’s eight, but I made my peace with that years ago.” “Thank you.”

—

Max watches the free practice session coverage intently as they focus on the Williams garage, nose wrinkling when they focus on Logan’s trainer, Benny and then James Vowles. Could it really be possible that they never once caught a shot of her? He starts to get a sinking feeling in his stomach that he's gonna have to go on Twitter when the camera moves and suddenly she’s there and he’s scrambling for the tv remote, pressing the pause button just before the camera switches to an overhead shot of the Bahrain track.

His heart skips a beat as he gets his first good luck at her. Her pretty eyes and smile. His eyes then travel down, wanting to know her name and his heart drops.

Y/N Sargeant, Mother of Logan Sargeant.

Fuck.

—

“Momma Panther!” Oscar greets to the confusion of other drivers as Logan and a woman enter the room.

Lando’s eyebrows are raised as he watches Oscar stand. Watching as his teammate claps Logan on the back, before giving him an actual hug. Before he then hugs the woman as well, whispering something to her that makes her laugh.

Pulling away from her, Oscar grins when her hand comes up to pat his cheek for a second. “Thank you for the invite, Os.” “Of course.” He sends a fond look to Logan, who's standing awkwardly by the table. “Y’know Logan and you are always welcome.” She makes a humming noise. “C’mon, let me introduce you to everyone.”

Turning around, he smirks at the table. “Everyone, Logan.” Charles lets out a laugh, as the others chuckle. He gestures to her, “This is Momma Panther or Pan.” “Y/N or Pan.” She corrects, playfully shaking her finger at Oscar. “I only let the F2 boys call me Momma Pan.” He sighs. “Okay, this is Y/N. Logan’s mom.”

Lando coughs, water going down the wrong pipe. Fernando’s eyes are wide as he looks at her. Charles, George, and Alex are all nodding. Max has a weird expression on his face and Carlos looks dumbfounded.

“She,” Carlos points at her. “Is his,” he points at Logan. “Mother?” Logan moves away from the table to stand by his mom, easily melting into her side at all the attention. The action makes Oscar smile, all too used to the easy affection between the mother and son. “I got pretty lucky right?” She shakes her head. “I’m just happy you weren’t a difficult child.” Logan both blushes and preens at the same time. Carlos shakes his head, disbelief still clear.

“Please, sit.” George says after a moment. “We haven’t ordered yet.”

The seasoned drivers and her watch amused as both Oscar and Logan usher her to sit first. Oscar easily then lets Logan sit next before sitting beside the American. The two of them sharing a grin after.

It makes her shake her head as she turns her attention to the menu, tuning out the sound of conversation picking back up.

The gentle sound of a throat clearing makes her glance to her left.

The current two time world champion smiles a bit awkwardly at her. “Have you been here before?” She shakes her head, turning her head a bit to look at him better. “No. To Australia of course, for Logan’s races and to visit Oscar once, but not here.” He nods and she can’t help but notice the way he swallows harshly. “We started coming here in 2021, it’s good food. Good drinks.” She laughs, “good gin and tonic?” He flushes a little, but laughs. “Yes. Very good. Heavy on the gin.” She nods, “I think I’ll have one of those then.”

Her eyes drift back to the menu, not even wincing at the prices next to the dishes. This was nearly cheap compared to where she had been forced to eat growing up.

“Momma, can we,” “Yes.” She answers before Logan finishes, already knowing what he’s asking. “Also you two, no hard liquor. We have plans tomorrow.” She continues, still looking at the menu.

They wouldn’t get drunk from a few drinks, but she had a feeling that Lando would try to instigate something again with Oscar, making the poor kid so drunk he could barely walk, again. And she didn’t mind people thinking that she was overbearing with Logan and even Oscar. The boys knew that if they really wanted to do something they could, even if she said otherwise. It was one of the nice things about being an adult.

Logan wrinkles his nose, glancing at the drinks part of the menu, before grinning. “They have it.” Oscar glances at what he’s pointing at, shaking his head. “You and your goddamn obsession.” “We come here like once a year.” Logan defends. “And no other country sells it.”

It’s not until after the server leaves, all of their orders taken, that conversation starts again.

“So, Mrs. Sargeant,” Lando starts. “Just Y/N or even Pan.” She sends a fond look to Oscar who had made that nickname stick. “And I’m not married.” She says, amused. “Ah.” “Not married.” Fernando shakes his head. “Now that doesn’t sound right.” She looks at him amused. “Don’t believe in premarital sex?” She teases. The older driver laughs and so do the others. “No. Just hard to believe that you aren’t married. You are a very gorgeous woman.” “Thank you.”

“So,” Lando starts again, giving Max a weird look seeing how his friend is gripping his glass of water. “Will you be coming to all the races?” She nods. “Yes, I have since Logan started his career. Haven’t missed one.” Logan shakes his head, grinning at her. “Nope, not one.” “Your work allows you to do that?” Her lips press together for a second to try and hide her smile at the gentle but obvious fishing they are doing. “I have shares in some companies and a very generous inheritance. So, no true, real work.” “You do some work for Grandpa when we’re in the states.” “I organize his desk for him, which he then messes up as soon as he sits back down at it.”

“You do not mind the constant travel? It is quite tiring.” Charles asks, curious. “No. And once I got Logan in karting, I promised him that I’d make it to all of his races. Maybe in a few years, I’ll stop going to all of them, but I am part of his team as well.” “Manager?” “God, no.” She shakes her head at Carlos’ assumption. “Cook slash nutritionist. Benny, his trainer is amazing, also doubles at being a physiotherapist for Logan, but he doesn’t know how to cook to save his life. So I make their meals.” “Mine as well.” Alex pipes in. “They’re truly amazing, by the way.” “Of course.” “Can you make mine again?” Oscar asks, leaning over Logan a bit to look at her. “I’ve missed having them.” “Sure.” She laughs. “Get me your new sheets before the next race, yeah?” “Done.”

—

Max watches from the corner of his eyes as she takes her first sip of her gin and tonic. Her brows raise a bit when the drink hits her tongue and he has to force his eyes up, to not focus in on her lips, to think about them and what they’d feel like on, he shakes his head. Forcing the thoughts, the ideas away.

“Very heavy on the gin.” She whispers, turning a bit to look at him. He rubs his hands against his jeans. “Do you like it?” “It’s nice.” She smiles. Relief fills him. “Good.”

He continues to look at her, wanting to tear his eyes away but being unable to. She was simply lovely. And getting this closer look at her, he can’t believe that she’s a mother, or at least a mother to a twenty-year-old. It didn’t seem possible. She looked barely older than him. Not at least thirty-five. She was probably more like Fernando’s age as well and he glances at the fellow two world champion, more disbelief filling him. Because how could the two be close in age at all?

—

Logan sighs as he collapses face first onto Oscar’s bed. Laying there for a solid minute before groaning and turning his head.

“Dinner was nice.” Oscar hums and he can feel the bed dip beside him. “You seemed a bit more relaxed.” “No media, and you and Pan were there. A bit more relaxed.” Logan scoffs. “Yeah, because you were so tense with media before.” As he speaks, he reaches out to lay a hand on Oscar’s thigh, giving the muscle a squeeze. “It’s nuts, isn’t it? I mean we all got told that the media was so much more, so different, but…” He trails off, shaking his head. “Yeah.” Oscar sighs and then he’s laying beside Logan, the American luckily moving his hand off and away from the other’s thigh before he lies on it.

“Y’know I have no personality, apparently.” Logan snorts, eyes opening when he hadn’t even realized he had closed him. The Australian driver also has his head turned so they’re looking at each other. “What? Have they never seen a Prema video?” He shrugs as best as he can. “I’d take that over my apparent frat boyness.” “You? A frat boy?” Oscar laughs. Logan sighs as he thinks a bit more about it, the mood turning a bit serious. “I just hope momma hasn’t seen it.” “What happened?” “She’s just worried. Thinks I haven’t noticed, but she’s wondering if she did a good job with me, done enough for me. And she’s given me everything y’know. I can’t imagine what I’d be like with them as my parents.” Oscar moves a bit closer, just a few inches between their faces now. “You’d still be amazing, still great. Maybe a frat boy.” The American rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling.

“I think Fernando has a thing for her. For Pan.” He clarifies. “What?” “I mean, just during the dinner y’know, he kept looking at her. And him calling her gorgeous.” “Well, he’d be dumb and blind to not notice that.” Logan scoffs, rolling onto his back and turning his head to the side, keeping his eyes on Oscar. “I’m being serious.” The younger laughs, poking him lightly. “I think Alonso has a thing for her.” Logan’s face scrunches up in disgust. “Dude, no. That’s gross. Momma isn’t even thirty and Fernando’s like forty-three. And isn’t he dating that journalist?” Oscar’s brows press together. “What journalist?” “The one that gave Fred shit.” “I thought she died?” The two look at each other, both baffled.

Logan thinks again of the journalist he’s seen around Fernando and the one that all of the Prema drivers, former and at the time current, had avoided or given shit statements too. They did look a bit different now that he really thought about it. Fernando’s journalist slash girlfriend didn’t have a fucking complex.

“Different journo.” Logan mutters. He then blinks, “wait, she died?” “Mate, you didn’t hear about that?” “No!” “She was supposed to be at Spa, remember. And we all were relieved when she wasn’t there. She died, car crash or something, I can’t remember.” “How do I not remember this?” Oscar shrugs as best as he can while laying down. “I don’t know.”

It’s silent for a moment, “you don’t think,” “No.” Oscar shakes his head, but he doesn’t sound too sure. “I mean, yeah no.” “Right.” He looks up at the ceiling.

“Okay, so Fernando is out of the running.” Logan groans, “Os, no.” “Look he clearly has eyes, but if he’s dating someone he’s out. He wasn’t the only one looking.” “Oscar, please, it’s my mom.” “She’s like my mom too, which is why we have to talk about this.” Oscar insists, wriggling closer to Logan. Their sides completely pressed together and when Logan turns his head to look at the other, their noses nearly brush. He looks at Oscar’s face, all earnest and caring and sighs. “Fine. Charles was looking, but he only dates one type, so safe from him.” “Lando was looking.” Logan snorts, “I thought this was for potential dates, not another kid.” He laughs, their noses brushing together from the movement. “Okay, no Lando. Max.” “He kind of looked weird when you introduced her.” He frowns. “I saw that too.” “But he also got all blushy when they talked.”

“The drivers do know, I mean Alex knows that she didn’t like birth you, right?” Logan’s frown deepens. “Of course. I mean, it’s not super well known, but it’s a little hard to believe that she naturally had a kid twenty years ago.” “Thought so.” Oscar then chuckles. “Imagine, them thinking that she did, though. Just thinking she’s got some sort of insane skin care routine.”

—

“How in the hell does she look like that with a twenty-year-old kid?” “I know right?” Alex says, looking at Carlos. “It’s insane.” Charles pokes at his own cheek. “I think I need to ask her for advice, what products she uses. I want to age like her.” “We all want to age like her.” George agrees. “What are you saying?” Fernando frowns. A few of them share a look, but Charles and Max share a different one. “Mate, you’ve got wrinkles and all these lines.” Max says. “I mean those are natural, but look at her. The skincare helps.” Fernando frowns, “Lines?” Charles touches at his own lines, “see lines. From smiling, laughing, frowning. All good things, very nice. Just not uh,” his brows furrow drawing a blank. Lando snorts at his struggle. “You just want to help your skin. Keep it healthy.” The older driver makes a humming noise, considering.

—

Her breath is caught in her throat, eyes wide as she watches the screen. Her heart feels like it is beating in double time. She wants to look away, doesn’t want to watch in case something horrible happens, but she can’t. Because Logan just overtook both Magnussen and Ocon in the same lap. Logan is in 9th. Logan is in a point scoring position with only five laps of the race left. Logan might score his first formula 1 points at his home race, at his actual home race, at his first ever home race.

Her hands are shaking, fingers locked together as she presses them against her mouth, trying to breathe, praying that Logan won’t fall back out of the points.

She doesn’t even notice that he’s lessened that gap to Pierre until suddenly he’s overtaken the other French driver, just three laps later. “Oh my god.” “Fuck.” “Benny,” she whispers, and one of her hands is dropping so she can clutch at the older man. “Benny, I think,” “He’s gonna do it.”

And sure enough he does it. Logan holds his place in front of Pierre and finishes in 8th.

“Yes!” The whole garage is cheering and she’s wrapping her arms around Benny, laughing when the trainer lifts her. “He did it! He did it!” She cheers. The garage quiets though as Gaetan starts to speak on the radio.

“Logan, you are on your cooldown lap.” “Got it. Where’s Alex?” She winces at the question, one of her hands grips at Benny’s shoulder as he sets her back down, the other holding onto her headphones that miraculously didn’t get thrown off her head or disconnected when celebrating. “Alex is P14, P14.” It’s quiet for a moment. “Okay, I’m sorry we didn’t get any points today, next race is ours right? The car felt great.” Both of her hands fly up to her mouth. “Logan.” Gaetan’s voice is full of disbelief and laughter. “Mate, you finished P8. You got us points. You got your first points.” She can see him react to the news, the car jerking underneath him for a second, before he wrangles it back under control. “What? What do you mean?” “You finished in P8. Clean race, finished ahead of both Alpines and Magnussen.” “Holy fuck.” The garage fills with laughter at his reaction and tears start to build in her eyes. “You guys,” his voice breaks. “Thank you guys so much. This was you guys, the car felt great, really.” She watches as James hops on the radio. “This was you as well, Logan. Amazing drive today.” “Thank you, James. Thank you so much for this.”

His mechanics, Benny and her, quickly go over to where the cars are parking, watching as Logan slots it into place. He’s a little shaky as he gets out of the car and he’s about to dart towards them but someone from the FIA, is ushering him to the scale.

His reluctance is clear even with his helmet on, but he goes. Letting them take his weight and as soon as it’s written down, he’s stepping off and away, fumbling with his gloves and then his helmet.

There’s an awed grin on his face, tears in his eyes, and seeing it makes the tears that have built in her own fall.

His gloves and helmet tumble to the ground as his mechanics and Benny surround him, celebrating his points.

Logan laughs when they finally let them go and his eyes light up when he sees her and he darts to her and she easily welcomes him into her arms.

“I’m so proud of you.” She tells him, squeezing his sweaty body close before running a hand through his hair. “You did amazing.” “I did it, momma.” His voice is weak and she can feel tears hit the skin of her neck where his head is buried. “You did it.”

—

“Logan did amazing, it was a good drive.” She blinks in surprise at the voice, turning in her barstool to look. “Max?” He smiles at her, cheeks flushed. “He did really well.” “He did.” She agrees before patting the stool next to her. His smile widens as he takes the seat. “I didn’t realize that Red Bull was in the same hotel.” Maybe she should have since she had spotted a few Red Bull polos, but she figured it was fan gear. “I think Aston is here as well. You aren’t celebrating with Logan?” She shakes her head. “We already celebrated. Him, Oscar, and a bunch of his friends here are throwing a party. I wasn’t really interested in watching them all get wasted, so this,” she gestures to the hotel bar, “is me having a drink to celebrate before going up to my room and ordering some room service.” “Could I join you?” His cheeks redden at the words, at the way her eyebrows raise. “Not like that. But for food? I’ve never actually eaten anywhere in Miami that wasn’t catering.” She stares at him for a moment before nodding. “Yeah. And I have the perfect place to take you.”

—

“Did I actually score points yesterday?” “You did.” “Sweet.” “Very. How’s the head?” Logan shrugs, “I mean, I drank a lot, but like I’m just dehydrated.” She shakes her head, “That will change in a few years.” “Not gonna tell me to not drink underage?” He teases, bending down to press a kiss to her cheek before grabbing her glass of juice and draining it. She snorts. “We’re in Europe most of the time and I gave you your first drink. I don’t think I have a leg to stand on. And you were celebrating.” “True.”

He sits across from her, refilling the glass and taking another drink from it before setting it down and starting to help himself to her pancakes, which she just pushes closer to him. “How was your night? You could have joined us. We wouldn’t of minded.” “I’m your mom, Logan.” She laughs. “I think the me going to your friend's parties ship sailed a few years ago.” “Yeah, but you're awesome. We like having you around.” “I know.” She smiles. “I wasn’t in the mood to watch all of you get wasted.” “Fair.” he says around a bite of pancake, which she sends him a look for and he quickly swallows the food. Giving her a smile that says sorry.

“So, how was your night?” “It was good.” She tells him, spearing a piece of fruit with her other fork. “I came back to the hotel, had a drink, and then got dinner with Max.” His brows press together. “Max?” “Verstappen.” She clarifies. “Red Bull is staying here as well, he saw me at the hotel bar and asked if he could join me for some food.”

“You went on a date?” Her eyes narrow at him. “It wasn't a date.” “You went on a date.” He scrambles for his phone. “Oscar is never gonna believe it.” “I go on dates.” “Momma, you’ve gone on like five dates. And two of those were before you turned eighteen.” She scowls at him. “It wasn’t a date. We just got dinner.” She insists. “Uh huh.” He says, clearly not believing her. “Did he pay?” “Yes.” “Pull your chair out, help you with your coat, anything like that?” Her mind flashes back to Max helping her get out of his car, his insistence on opening doors for her. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean,” Logan continues. “Did he walk you to your hotel room? Say that he had a good time and he’d like to do it again?” “Oh.” Logan grins at her, smug, as he finishes typing out a text to Oscar. “You went on a date last night.” “I went on a date last night.” And she doesn’t mention the fact that a new number resides in her phone.

—

“Logan!” He stops at the sound of his name, turning to look behind him, where Max Verstappen is nearly jogging to catch up with him. “Max.” He greets, when the older driver is next to him, nerves filling him at the eyes of said driver on him, along with how a few other drivers are also looking at the pair, shock and surprise clear on their faces. “Hey.” Max grins. “How are you feeling about the track?” He looks at the older driver in confusion. They had just left the drivers briefing, why was he asking him this? Alex had already spoken about how the team was feeling about Monaco. “The car won’t be the best here, but we said that in Miami, so we’re hoping to repeat that here. Alex has a good chance at ending in a point scoring position.” He reiterates what he's been told and what he’s been telling the press. “But how are you feeling about it?” Logan stares at the Dutchman, eyes flickering around trying to see if cameras are there, if his momma is there, but there isn’t anyone. The other drivers are already gone, so are the FIA people. It’s just him and Max. “Y’know you don’t have to talk to me because you went out with my mom.” He expects relief, like that one dick Jase, and really who puts that on a birth certificate, but Max just frowns. “I know, I don’t have to.” Logan swallows around the lump in his throat, “right.” Turning around, he starts to walk, somehow knowing that the other driver will join him. “It’s a tricky track, it’s Monaco. I was here last year and I barely got in the points.” “P10 and P9.” He throws the driver a look, because that was too much to know, but Max is just looking at him, encouraging him to continue. “The car isn’t suited for it. I mean it wasn’t for Miami, but this is different. And I’m still not managing my tyres correctly, so even if I did manage to gain positions, I’d get called in to pit and lose them.” Max huffs out a laugh. “You are a rookie in a Williams, it’s impressive that you’ve already gotten points. If you could manage your tyres, when sometimes even I struggle, well I’d put you in Checo’s seat.” “Not yours?” He laughs again, “No. I’m a bit better at it than Checo.” Logan couldn’t really deny that.

“Do you want some advice? On the tyres?” Logan quickly nods. “I’ll take anything I can get.” “Don’t fight the car too much on the turns. If you need to get it to turn properly or without going on the brakes too soon, fight it. But when you don’t, let the car be stable, keep it fluid. When you come out of the corner, press harder. It might feel like you’ll go into the wall, but you won’t.” “And if I go into the wall?” Max laughs, clapping him on the shoulder. “I think you're a better driver than that mate.”

—

“How are you doing that in the turns?” Logan looks up from his notebook, where he’d been scribbling a bunch of random words. Looking at the screen, he watches his own onboard. He thinks about saying that it was Max that told, but no one at Williams liked hearing about Red Bull, especially with Alex in the room. “Just something I thought I’d try.” “Well, it was good, continue doing it. We may have ended up out of the points, but we got close.” Logan nods. Even with his five-second penalty, he had still kept fourteenth, and Alex ended up in twelfth. “Will do.”

—

Max had thought about her in his apartment a lot, an embarrassing amount. He had also pictured it very differently. A nice dinner, wine, even though a majority of it made his nose wrinkle, perhaps some kissing on his couch as a movie plays that they both don’t care about.

He hadn’t expected lunch, with juice that he’s trying to figure out how he’s never had it when he’s lived in Monaco for so many years, and a somewhat serious conversation, though maybe he has been expecting that one or rather anticipating it.

“I like you, Max.” He flushes, “I like you too.” He really did, even though his mother was going to have a heart attack when she found out how much older Pan was than him. “And I want to continue doing this.” She gestures between them with her free hand that isn’t being held in his. “So,” sensing that there’s something she wants to say. “I’m a mom.” He blinks at her words, panic starting to fill him. He thought he’d made that clear that he knew that, understood that. He always made sure to ask about Logan. He even had Logan’s number now after talking to him about how he felt about the Monaco track. “I know.” “Logan is important to me.” Oh, god, did Logan not like him? “The most important thing to me. And if we're going to continue to do this, I just need you to know that. He’s always going to be my first priority.” “Of course.” Relief fills him, his heart slows from its frantic beating. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.” She stares at him, trying to gauge how truthful he’s being before nodding. “Okay.”

“Did you think that I didn’t know that?” She shakes her head immediately. “No, it’s just. I don’t really do this.” She laughs. “Dating, relationships. Logan pointed that out to me, so I don’t really know how this goes and I just had to make it clear, put it on the table now.” “I don’t really do this either.” He hesitates to ask his next question, but does. “Logan’s father. What was your relationship with him like?” Her face screws up in disgust. “Ew.” He laughs, not expecting that reply or that word to sum up a relationship. But fair enough.

“I mean the idea of a relationship between me and Logan’s father is gross. Logan’s,” she pauses, seeming to settle on a different word. “Birth parents are my aunt and uncle.” “His what?” He could have sworn she said birth parents, but that couldn’t be right. “His birth parents.” She looks at him, concerned. “I adopted Logan when I turned eighteen. Did you think I gave birth to him?” “No.” He says, shaking head and clearing his throat. “Of course not.” She stares at him, lips pressed together. He sighs, slumping in his seat, eyes closing. “I may or may not have thought you were just a really, really young looking forty-something year old woman.” She immediately bursts into laughter and his eyes fly open at the sound. “You thought?” “The graphic for the race footage says you are his mother, I did not think otherwise. I just thought you looked great for your age.” He defends, a little embarrassed, but delighted by the expression on her face and her laughter that is still filling his ears. “I am his mother, just adopted.” “Not that either of you see it that way.” “No.” She shakes her head, laughing one last time before calming down.

“No. Logan’s mine, he’s been mine practically since he was born. It just wasn’t seen that way legally until I was eighteen and custody got signed over to me.” “Of course.” He then flashes her smile, “So can I ask how old you are?” She laughs, nodding. “Yes, Max. I think just this once it’s better to ask a lady her age than assume it.” “How old are you?” “I’m twenty-nine.” He looks at her with new eyes, the age making much more sense. “I would’ve said twenty-five.” “Really? I think you would’ve said forty-something.” “How was I to know?” He throws his free hand in the air at the tease, his other still holding hers.

—

“Hi, baby.” She greets when Logan stumbles out of his room, practically still asleep, as he drops onto the couch. “Momma.” He whines, resting his head on her lap and turning his face to press it into her stomach, trying to block out the sun. Her fingers brush through his hair as she forces her body to stay relaxed. It was always a fight when he did this.

She hated that her body didn’t bear any signs of being pregnant before, no stretch marks around her belly. She hated that she hadn’t actually gotten to carry Logan no matter how impractical it was, unless of course she was as old as Max had thought she was. She smiles at the memory of how flustered Max had looked when he realized her actual age.

He mumbles something and she turns his face away from her stomach. “What?” “How was your date last night?” Her smile widens. “It was good.” “Yeah?” She nods. “Did you see Jimmy and Sassy?” “No.” She runs her hand over his forehead, knowing that he’s thinking of Sooty. “We should talk though after you’ve had some breakfast.” “About what?” “Breakfast first.”

“What do we need to talk about?” Logan asks nearly thirty minutes later, his fruit bowl all gone and his coffee on its way to be there as well. She swallows, hands flexing. “Max.” “What about Max?” She sighs. “Well, baby, him and I talked about becoming serious last night. But that’s not gonna happen until I know how you feel.” “You know, I’m okay with it.” “I know you're okay with me dating, but this is a bit more complicated. Max is on the grid with you and we’re talking about a relationship.” Logan eyes widen a bit at the word relationship. “I mean, how does Max feel about it? About being with someone who has a kid on the grid?”

He asks knowing it will give him time to figure out how to tell her how he feels and because he wants to know, he kind of wants Max to be okay with it. He likes Max, and not just as a driver. The older driver is kind and funny, he also looks at his mom like she’s the sun, he makes her happy and that’s enough to put him in Logan’s good books. His mom deserves the best and he thinks from what little he’s seen, from how much more happy his mom has been (and god that was weird, because it wasn’t even like she wasn’t happy before) that Max might be the best for her. And Max now every time he sees Logan is always stopping to talk to him even if it’s just for a second to say a quick hi.

“Max is good with it. He knows that you're my number one and that’s never going to change.” Logan flushes at the words. “He also likes you, thinks you're a good kid.” She lets out an amused huff as the word kid leaves her mouth. It was odd to hear Max describe Logan that way, with only five years between them. But at the same time she knew it came from being practically a veteran in the sport. Max was coming up on ten years in Formula 1 despite his young age. He flushes even more. “Really?” “Yeah.” She smiles. “He always asks about you, it’s really sweet. And he knows to that if you aren’t comfortable with this or need more time then that’s what will happen.” “I am an adult.” “You are.” She was sadly well aware of that fact. “But you are my baby, my kid. I couldn’t be in a relationship with someone if you didn’t like them or if it made you uncomfortable.” He nods. “I’m okay with it. Max makes you happy, he’s nice.” “Yeah?” “Yeah.”

—

She lets out a giggle as arms wrap around her from behind, lips pressing against her cheek. “Hi.” “Hi.” Another kiss is pressed to her cheek. “Can I help?” She glances down at what she’s finishing up. “No. You could set the table, though?” “Done.” A kiss is pressed to her temple and then the blanket of heat that covered her back is gone. “What cabinet?” “First one entering the kitchen on the left.” She says, turning her head a bit to watch as Max pulls the dishes out.

Her mouth goes a little dry as she watches him. His t-shirt is tight around his biceps and chest. His skin is a little tanned after their date a few days ago on a friend's yacht. She forces her eyes to not look at his hands, instead trailing them up to his strong shoulders and neck and then to his face. Max, she thinks as he starts to put the plates on the table, is unfairly attractive. Before he can catch her staring, she checks on the final thing on the stove. “Perfectly done.” She mumbles with a smile.

The sound of the front door opening makes her smile grow wider as she grabs a pot holder. “Am I late?” “Just on time.” She tells Logan as he steps into the kitchen. “Can I,” She stops him before he can continue. “No, go wash up.” “Alright.” He bends a little to press a kiss to her cheek before turning on his heel, offering a wave to Max. “Hi.” “Hi, Logan.”

Picking up the pan, she shakes her head as Max goes to try and take it from her. “Logan and you are both going to get on too well.” “Why’s that?” He asks, a twinkle in his eye. “You both don’t like when I lift anything.” “What’s the point of having a son or a boyfriend, then?” Logan says, clapping Max on the shoulder as he comes back. Max grins at the younger, delighted as he claps him back. “Exactly. We feel a bit neglected.” She rolls her eyes, shaking her head, though a smile is stretching across her lips.

—

Max watches amused as the mother and son argue.

“Mom, it would be for two races, two, that’s it.” “One race, really.” Max chimes in, smiling when she glares at him. “Spa is nice, but Zandvoort is really what I consider my home race.” “See, it would be one race. Max wants you in his garage.” Logan says, looking at the other driver, begging for him to help but at the last sentence Max shakes his head. “I never said that. Well, I would like to see Pan in my garage, not for the whole weekend, or even a day. She’s part of your team.” Logan looks at him, bewildered. “But, it’s your home race.” He shrugs. “I’d like for her to stop by, you as well. I already have it cleared with the team. Staying for even a whole session though just doesn’t make any sense. I don’t need her on my side of the garage to know that she’s supporting me, wanting me to do well, not when you are on the grid.” “Are you sure?” Max smiles at Logan, because yes he was sure. Did he want her there, supporting him? Maybe even dressed in something with his number? Of course. But, he liked seeing her in Logan’s garage. Supporting him, wearing his merch, being a mom. “I’m more than sure.”

“Besides,” she says, drawing both of their attention. “Max and I haven’t gone public yet. Or really told anyone yet.”

—

“Well, this is a bit of an odd one.” Laura says as they stop in front of the Red Bull garage. The cameraman focuses on what she’s looking at. “Both Logan Sargeant and his mother, better known as Pan from Formula 2 fans, are in the Red Bull garage, currently talking with our current championship leader Max Verstappen, his engineer GP, and Daniel Ricciardo.” “Shall I see if I can steal one of them away?” Will asks, smiling at the camera as he holds the F1 TV microphone loosely. “Please.” She gestures.

Will steps towards the garage smiling at the small group hovering just inside. “Could I steal one of you for a quick minute?” The five exchange a look and Will stops himself from rolling his eyes at the way they all look annoyed at the idea, but Logan nods. “Sure.” “Thank you.”

He watches as Logan says something quietly to them, getting nods from them all. His brow furrows when Max squeezes his shoulder before the younger driver gives his mom a quick hug, making him shake his head. Logan Sargeant was an absolute mommy’s boy and it was embarrassing as all hell to see. He couldn’t imagine being twenty and hugging his mom in public, let alone all those videos and photos of him reaching for her hand.

Will ignored the part of him that did think it was sweet and felt bad for the kid. He couldn’t look all sappy while filming, especially not when in front of the Red Bull garage.

“Hi everyone.” Logan greets, taking the third mic from the newest crew member. “Hello, Logan. How are you feeling about this weekend?” He smiles at Laura. “I’m feeling okay, I’ve raced here before, obviously not in an F1 car, but I do have some experience with this track.” “And you and your mum’s visit to the Red Bull garage, should we expect an announcement of you switching teams?” She teases. “No.” He laughs. “No, uh, just visiting for personal reasons. Saying hello to Daniel, wishing Max a good home race.” “I mean, I’m not sure, he needs it.” Will jokes, gaining a few laughs. “So, no business to be done at Red Bull? Just saying a hello and wishing a good race to a fellow driver.” “Yeah,” he pauses, looking back at the garage where it’s just Max and his mom standing now watching him with smiles on their faces. It’s only that he continues when his mom gives a brief nod, one barely able to be seen by the camera. “And I wasn’t just wishing a fellow driver good luck.” “Oh?” Logan grins, looking pleased with himself. “I was wishing my new dad good luck.”

—

“Carlos Sainz is a cunt.” Max freezes at her words, hand still on the doorknob from just stepping into the room. “Hi, schat.” “Carlos Sainz is a cunt.” She repeats. His brain is scrambling because what exactly had Carlos done but also why was it so attractive to her say the word cunt. It had to be the accent, he decided quickly, still trying to figure out the Carlos thing. “And why is Carlos a cunt?” He finally asks, releasing the door knob and stepping further into the room.

She’s on her laptop, rapidly typing something, and he can feel anger radiating off her.

“That bullshit he spewed, blaming Oscar’s inexperience.” She scoffs, pausing her typing as she shakes her head. “It was an incident, a racing incident, something he knows a lot about. There was no inexperience fault.” “Oscar’s okay?” He already knows that he is, but knows it's good to ask. “He’s good. He knows that it's a racing incident.” Max winces. Wonders for a second if he should warn Carlos to keep his mouth shut, but shrugs. It wasn’t his fault that Carlos was getting in trouble because he couldn’t watch his mouth or correctly look at footage. “Can I help?” She sighs, hitting close on whatever she was writing in. “No.” She then closes her laptop, turning to face him, with a smile. “Hi. Congrats on the win.” “Thank you.” He bends to kiss her. “You okay?” “Yeah, just,” she waves her hand at her laptop, “stuff.” “Anything I can help with?” She starts to shake her head no as he sits on the edge of the bed, but she stops. “Actually, could I get your insight on something? Not just as a driver, but as someone who lives and breathes racing, loves data, really knows how the sport works.” “Of course. What’s going on?”

Another sigh leaves her, hand coming up to rub at her mouth for a second before it drops. “Why would a team not resign a driver?” His eyebrows furrow, because she knows the reasons, but he answers. “Not performing well, they want out of the team or sport, sponsorship issues.” “The driver wants to stay in the sport and the team.” Her lips turn downwards a bit at the word team. “And the driver brought new sponsorships to the team.” “They have to be not performing well.” “They’re a rookie in a back marker team.” “They have to be really performing badly.” Max says, trying to think of who in Formula 2 or 3 she’s talking about. “They already have six points and have placed ahead of their experienced teammate three times.” His mind is scrambling again, trying to find a reason, because what? “How many does his teammate have?” “Nine.” “I have no idea. Not unless there’s conflict within the team.” She shakes her head. “Is there potentially a more experienced driver for the spot?” She shakes her head. “They’re looking at another rookie or maybe someone who stepped away from the series for a year, though they’d rather take a rookie than him.” “I don’t have an answer for you. It doesn’t make sense to me.” She nods, expression falling and she’s rubbing at her face.

“What’s going on?” He asks, standing up just to crouch down in front of her, taking her hands in his. “The driver’s Logan.” “What?” “Williams isn’t sure they want to offer Logan another year.” Max stares at her. “How?” “I don’t know.” She shrugs, laughing. “There’s talks of them signing whoever wins this F2 championship or even the runner-up depending on who it is. Logan’s making too many mistakes.” “He’s costing them too much money.” Max fills in the blank, shaking his head. “That’s ridiculous. Don’t take a rookie if you can’t afford it. You are supposed to account for the worse. And he’s doing well. It’s not his fault that they built a shit car.” “I don’t know what to do.” She admits, voice just a whisper, and his heart clenches painfully at the sound of it, at the tears in her eyes. “This is his dream. I don't know what to do if that gets taken away from him.” “It won’t. We’ll figure something out.” He tells her, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

—

“I think I’m spoiled.” Max says, watching as she gets ready for bed. A faint feeling of arousal pooling his gut as she pulls on one of his shirts. He absentmindedly wonders if it would be weird to wear it tomorrow to the track, the scent of her lotion clinging to it. “Why’s that, honey?” He smiles, cheeks a bit pink, and that arousal builds a bit more at the pet name, at the way she shifts in the vanity chair to loosen some tension in her back. “You come to every race, you see me win, you celebrate them, you got to see me win my third championship today.” Those words feel weird off his tongue, today, but totally sober to celebrate. He wants desperately for tomorrow to come, for the race to finish so they can celebrate, him, her, Logan, the team. “I guess you are a bit spoiled.” He gasps, clutching at his heart, making her giggle. “That’s okay though.” She says, getting up and moving onto the bed, straddling him. “I think I like you spoiled.” He groans as she dips her head, pressing a kiss to the flutter of his pulse. “Schat.” It's a warning to stop and a plea for more. “I know.” She kisses the spot a bit firmer. “Celebrations will have to wait just a day longer.” She then rolls off him, his arm immediately lifting so she can press against his side.

“It’s cruel to win with a sprint race.” She snorts, “A sprint race never stopped us before.” “It’s cruel to win with a sprint race in Qatar.” He amends. “Very true.”

He sighs, staring at the ceiling as he calms down, luckily the feeling of her fingers tapping along his stomach not making it harder. “How’s Logan feeling?” Max asks, remembering how pale he looked when they got dinner. She sighs, moving somehow closer. “Not great. No fever, but his stomach is still a bit upset.” He winces. “He gonna be okay tomorrow?” “I hope so. The team knows that he’s sick, they’ll make the right choice.” “I hope so.” He echoes, wishing that Logan felt better, hoping that he feels better by the time the race starts.

—

“We are confident in him.” Max scoffs, tossing his phone aside. “I know.” “Logan still wanting to do his new routine.” She nods, lips pursed. He shakes his head. “He did good.” It wasn’t the rookie season that Oscar had, but it couldn’t be. Oscar got lucky enough to get a seat in a near top team, while Logan got one with a back of the grid team that was sometimes midfield.

Logan scoring ten points, getting himself to sixteenth in the standings, tied with Bottas in the standings, was very good for a rookie. It was a shame that Williams seemed to think he could’ve and should have done better. At least, Max thinks, the 2025 grid was wide open for possibilities.

“Are him and Oscar still joining us?” She throws him a look. “Us?” “You.” He amends, knowing that despite him joining her, he’d get caught up in Redline and different things. He was just happy she didn’t mind that. “Only for a few days and then they both are off to Australia.” “Will Logan be joining us for Florida?” “Yes. My mom has been asking the next time she’s going to see her only grandchild.” Max laughs at the eye roll. “So, Belgium first, then Monaco,” “You go to Milton for a day after.” He nods, “then Greece, Florida, Monaco.” “Not bad for the first few weeks of winter break.” “Not bad at all.” He agrees, wrapping his arms around her waist, chest pressed against her back.

It’s quiet between the couple as Max sways them.

“Max.” “Yes?” “Your mom, she does know that I’m not in my forties right? Or thirties?” She figured that the woman did, but she also had only briefly gotten to meet her at the one race, and there had been an odd expression on her face when Max introduced her as his girlfriend. He freezes. “Max.” “I knew I forgot something.”

@ohtous @cixrosie @darleneslane @fanboyluvr @teti-menchon0604 @eugene-emt-roe @quackquackhun @rewmuslupin @copper-boom @stopeatread @crashingwavesofeuphoria @jointhehunt67 @namgification @asphalstead @poppyflower-22 @racingheartsposts @gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @hiireadstuff @iloveyou3000morgan @boiohboii @bibliosaurous @skepvids @elliegrey2803

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #I ❤️ MILFS verse #I was on something when I came up with this idea and the name of this fic

[aliaology]

IN BETWEEN

summary: just two people in love

pairings: quinn hughes x fem!reader

warnings: just love 🤍

no one would ever be able to come between you and quinn hughes. that was not a regular ‘statement,’ it was a fact. you and quinn hughes were hopelessly in love with one another since you were freshmen.

freshmen year was when you and quinn met. you met him in your algebra class. he was seated in front of you and you couldn’t see a single thing due to him being there.

you tapped his shoulder softly. his body turned to look at you, confusion plastered across his face. embarrassed, you spoke,

“can you lean down slightly? i can’t see the board too well..”

quinns confusion turned to a soft smile. he nodded and leaned down slightly. you pushed the bridge of your glasses up further on your nose and began to write your notes down.

after that day, he would lean down the entire class so you could see. it became a thing he liked to do for you.

a week later, he turned to you.

“can i steal your notes? im behind in this class and i cant fail or im out of hockey for the season.” he asked desperately.

that was the first thing you learned about him. you nodded and handed him your notebook. he smiled and turned around, copying your notes into his notebook.

you started to hand your notes to him everyday, because you took notice that he barely paid attention anyways.

it didn’t take long for you both to become friends. he began to see who you were, you began to see who he was. you weren’t the pretty popular girl for nothing. you were kindhearted, you cared. you tried.

he wasn’t the hockey jock who hated everyone. no, he may not have been a people-person, but he was kind as well. he meant well no matter what.

plus, you loved his family. his brothers quickly became yours. his parents, quickly became your second set. his family became yours, and yours became his.

he loved your mom, she was the sweetest woman ever. he loved your other mom, shes where you got the smarts from. and he loved your ten year old brother.

you two adapted to one another, quickly becoming each others constant. you circled around him, he circled around you. no one could come between you two.

“oh please, he doesn’t answer me that fast.” you’d tell your girl friends.

your friend, priya, rolled her eyes. “yes he does! he barely lets it ring.” she told.

“call him, right now.” she instructed.

you felt flustered, but did what you were told nonetheless. you shakily held your phone in your hand, clicking on his contact and pressing call.

priya was right, because not even two seconds later did he answer. “hello?”

priya gave you a look. your eyes widened and immediately you put the phone up to your ear.

“hey, quinny, uhm— what time does practice end?”

it wasn’t until junior year that people could see how in love you two were. the way quinn would look at you with such a longing gaze. the way he would light up when your name was mentioned, even if it was technically about someone else. the thought of you made him joyful.

then there was the way you looked at him. how you stared at him a little bit too much longer than you should’ve. the way you would get excited hearing the word ‘hockey’ because you thought of him.

you two were inseparable. and finally, you two began to date in the middle of junior year. years of longing for dates, late night talks, kisses, were finally over, because you got them whenever you wanted.

your relationship with quinn was one for the books. he’d laugh at your eyes, your smile, at the glasses on your face, but not because he thought you looked weird or funny, but because he finally had you.

you loved listening to him at night, getting the side of him no one else does. you listen to him call you things that make your stomach erupt into butterflies. beautiful, gorgeous, funny, smart. hes never seen anything or anyone like you.

in the relationship, you were the bold one.

“im new at this..” he admitted, embarrassed.

you were his first real relationship. he was scared to mess up. he was scared you would run off, or find someone better.

but you’d hold his face with both of your hands and place a kiss onto his lips, reassuring him that he was all you wanted.

sparks would fly when you kissed.

you both lasted to present time. you were still so helplessly in love with him just like you were in highschool.

just like you thought, he was always there, until he wasn’t because he was on a roadie. you hated his roadies, having him leave.

you hate when hes away, scared something will happen while hes at a game. you were already scared shitless when you watched jack fall into the boards and sit out a few games. who knows how you’d feel if quinn were to get hurt.

he hates when you cry. you cry every night before he leaves for a roadie, scared. he holds you tight, whispers sweet nothings into your ear. he was also, so in love with you still.

but you still got what you wanted. more everything in between. you got the love you deserved, and so did he.

tags (perm): @slaythehousebootsdown13 , @outrunangelss , @um-mads , @bqbylon , @whoreforthehughesbrothers , @p3nislawd , @queenmendes !

#hockey #nhl imagine #nhl #nhl hockey #jack hughes #quinn hughes #luke hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes imagine #in between #vancover canucks #vancouver

[enchanteleclerc]

reckless feeling 🂱 cl16

genre: 18+, literally pwp, canon compliant, fem!reader who is max’s gf (oops i do not condone cheating tho!)

word count: 2k

You don’t know how it happened but somehow you find yourself sneaking off to the bathroom with Charles while your boyfriend receives his championship trophy.

a/n … hihi! my first fic hence why its so shit so would love feedback LMAO this is literally my first time fully writing something since school so bare w me pls. anyways enjoy ig :))

warnings … penetrative sex, cheating, public sex, dirty talk (degradation and praise), unprotected sex, rough ish sex? idk

-

After just over a year absorbed into the lifestyle of a ‘Formula 1 driver wag’, it was at this point you truly began to wonder what it was you were doing here. The annual FIA prize-giving ceremony was happening around you, and despite the number of glasses of champagne you had downed as ‘liquid courage’, you couldn’t feign interest beyond a few tight-lipped smiles and absentmindedly clapping whenever the crowd did so. Not that anyone noticed, of course. Your boyfriend had just won his second championship. You should be over the moon. But it didn’t seem as if Max even cared for it. Sitting beside you, his attention was divided equally between whispered conversations with Christian Horner and something on his phone. To anyone else, you may as well have been a stranger assigned to the seat beside him, but his hand on your thigh brought you some comfort, you supposed. Minimally affectionate and hidden. Exactly how Max liked it.

“What’s so funny?” attempting to include yourself in the seemingly hilarious conversation between Max and Christian, earning you blank gazes from both parties. “Nothing, babe. You wouldn’t get it. racing stuff, you know?” Yeah. Got it. Thanks a lot, babe. The scoff that left your lips, punctuated with a roll of your eyes, was lost on the two men, and so was the way your eyes landed naturally on the man seated directly in front of you. Green eyes stared back at you with a knowing smirk that, if you had not been seated, would probably cause your legs to give out. His brown hair was neatly combed for this occasion, accentuating his crisp suit featuring a Ferrari emblem. You’d pretended to pay enough attention to Max’s conversations tonight to assume the man undressing you with his eyes in front of you was Charles Leclerc, runner-up in the championship. If you knew Formula 1 drivers looked like that, you’d have paid much more attention to the season.

Realising you’d been staring and subconsciously checking him out, Charles sent a wink in your direction. Cheeks burning and your throat suddenly dry, you reached for your champagne glass before noticing it was empty. Chuckling at your attempt to play it cool, Charles pushes his full champagne glass across the table towards you, which you happily accept, brushing your finger against his in this exchange. A large sip of champagne was needed to distract you from the way your thighs clenched at the feeling of Charles’ skin on yours right next to your boyfriend. Max had never caused you to feel like this, especially not from such a small interaction.

”You alright?” Geri caught your attention with her hushed whispers. Your fingers clenched around the base of the champagne glass to quell the dizziness in your head. “Yeah, um, thanks. I just need to go to the bathroom.” Nodding back at Geri, you place the champagne glass back on the table before excusing yourself to the bathroom. “Be quick. Max will be on soon.” She offers you a smile as you walk behind her, but her words don’t seem to reach you as your eyes connect with Charles again. Seeing him follow you with his eyes and place his glass down as you had done before made your heart race beyond belief.

Walking into the bathroom much faster than you had anticipated in these heels, you sigh in relief at the empty bathroom as everyone was in the main hall watching the awards presentation. And yet, the sound of the bathroom door opening and closing didn’t alarm you, neither did the feel of someone turning you around and crashing their lips on you. Lips kissed yours beyond any kiss shared between you and Max. Your arms wrapped around his neck, allowing your fingers to thread through his hair as his own wrapped around your waist. The feel of his cold rings on the heat of your open back caused a gasp to fall from your lips, a gasp that Charles took advantage of by deepening the kiss and leading you backwards towards the sink. His hands wandered from your lower back to your ass before giving it a light squeeze, inviting you to wrap your legs around his torso as he placed you on the sink, him standing between your legs.

His lips moved to a place on your neck that had you throwing your head back for more. Eyes fluttering, you catch a view of the pair of you in the mirror, but the moment Charles’ hands ran up your thighs, scrunching the material of your dress and pulling your red lacy panties down with it, your undivided attention was on this man. If you could form any coherent thoughts, you would laugh at the irony of wearing red lingerie, but you couldn’t at this moment. He did everything confidently and did not care if someone walked in and saw. He wasn’t ashamed. Not even when his hands crept up higher up your thigh, where you needed him the most. The way he watched your reaction to everything he did through half-lidded eyes was enough to bring you over the edge, but once his fingers attached to your clit, you knew this boy would be the death of you.

”Please, Charles”, you whimper, causing him to chuckle at your desperation. “Aw, baby. Max not pleasing you enough?” he mocks. You bite your lip and shake your head. He could ask you simply who Max was, and you wouldn’t even be able to answer it the way Charles touched you like this; there were no thoughts beyond how he was making you feel. The moan that fell from your lips when he inserted a finger into you was almost pornographic. Charles had to stifle a groan of his own, feeling the tightening pressure in his pants becoming close to unbearable.

”Good girl”, he rumbled lowly as your hips grind towards his fingers, clearly desperate for more the way your slick was dripping out and making a mess of the counter. He inserts another finger inside of you, and the way you clench around his fingers has him clenching his jaw to maintain the little composure he has left. The thrusting of his fingers and the musical quelch they make in this bathroom turn you on beyond belief. The thought of someone— let alone Max— catching you like this, on the verge of an orgasm from the skilful fingers of his rival, sent you into a mind-numbing orgasm, your pussy clenching and unclenching around his fingers as lewd noises left your mouth.

Before you even had a moment to return to reality, Charles dragged you off the counter, turning you around and bending you over it. “Fuck. been thinking about this pussy all night.” The distinct sound of a belt unclasping and a zipper being pulled down had your back arching on the counter. The coldness of the counter biting into your hips perfectly contrasted with the fire burning within you, sending your emotions on overdrive. He drags the tip of his cock along your slit, coating it in your slick before pushing it inside you without any warning. His eyes flit from where your bodies are connected to the reflection of your face in the mirror. Your eyes fluttered closed, and your lips sealed together to conceal the symphony of moans threatening to leave your mouth. Charles was drunk on the view of seeing you take his cock like you were made for him. All tight and wrapped around him like a present on Christmas day.

He pulls out and thrusts back in again, his hand firmly gripping your hips, which you will surely be bruised by this and the way your body sways forwards from every thrust. You struggle to adjust to his size, larger and girthier than Max by a large margin. The way he’s stretching you out so perfectly has you throwing your hips back to meet his thrusts. One of his hands leaves your hips and goes to rub your clit in small circles, causing a moan from you that was much louder than you expected. Immediately you brought your hand to your mouth to muffle the moans, but Charles gripped your hair and pulled you up, letting your arms fall down to the counter to support you.

”Nuh uh. Don’t hide your moans. I want Max to hear what it sounds like to actually please you” his hand wrapped around your throat, adding slight pressure to it while speeding up his thrusts. The volume of your moans increased exponentially, thankful for the loud crowd on the other side of the bathroom door. He holds your neck so your faces are so close as he drops some of his spit into your mouth and tells you to swallow. You do as he says and stick your tongue out to show him after, to which he chuckles. Charles could tell you to do anything at this moment, and you would comply with absolutely no hesitation.

”You’re such a good girl for me, hmm. Letting me fuck you in the bathroom while Max is getting his award. I bet you want him to walk in, huh?” your head shook, but you couldn’t deny the way your pussy clenched around him at the thought of Max walking in on you in this compromising position. He pushes even deeper inside of you, your legs trembling from how sensitive you were from your last orgasm.

”Fuck Charles—” you say, leaning your head back on his shoulder, not missing the way he groaned and sped up his pace when you moaned his name. “I’m gonna cum. Please, Charles,” you plead, but he already knew you were close by the way you tightened around him.

”Cum for me, baby” Almost on cue, your body trembles and shakes around him. His grip on your body tightens to hold you up; you’d be a puddle on the floor without it. He doesn’t cease his movements, however. Your finishing moan is disrupted by his vigorous thrusts that seem to be speeding up, if possible, yet shallower. You can tell he is close too. The way he pants out your name and beads of sweat fall from his gorgeous face.

”Inside me, please”, you beg, seeing the way his grip on your hips tightens and his eyes darken in the reflection of the mirror. He paints your insides with his cum, continuing his thrusts, pumping you full of his cum. You sigh at the feeling of it warm inside you and shiver at the loss of contact when he pulls out of you.

”Please put your hands together for your 2022 Formula 1 world champion, Max Verstappen” The presenter’s words echoed through the bathroom walls as the gravity of the situation dawned on you and Charles.

—

Sitting back at the table as inconspicuously as possible, Max sent you a glare beyond words but still placed his hand on your thigh affectionately before his head snapped to Charles, taking his seat on the other side of the table. His hair and suit were messy and crumpled. A stark contrast to the perfectly polished Charles merely a few minutes ago. Doing nothing to subdue his messy state, he slumps in his seat with his legs spread out and reaches for a new glass of champagne that must have been placed in front of Charles’ seat when we were gone. Sipping the champagne, he maintains eye contact with Max and me, sporting a cocky smirk. If Max didn’t notice you leaving right before Charles or both of your absences when he received his award, he definitely notices now. Max wasn’t an idiot. He knew. He didn’t know all the details, of course— he didn’t know that you were full of his rival’s cum to the point where it could be dripping out of you, soaking into your dress and into the seat. He didn’t know Charles had your panties stuffed into his suit pocket. And he didn’t know that this was the most interest you’d shown in anything regarding this sport. But he knew enough.

-

#f1 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader

[joeys-babe]

Joey B Blurbs: Water

————————————————————————-

Summary: While bored at home during the twin’s nap time, you try the Water by Tyla Tiktok trend on your husband Joe.

Warnings: nothing really. fluff, unserious/funny

Pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

Imagine universe: Into The Mystic

————————————————————————-

November 6th - Day after win over the Bills

(yn’s pov)

Joe and I were currently cuddled up on the couch in comfortable silence, the only sounds being of the overhead fan and TV quietly playing the science channel.

Yesterday the Bengals had yet again a big win and it seemed like things were starting to click with the team. That Bye Week was exactly what they needed to set the season on a good path.

I scrolled through TikTok on my phone, one Airpod in my ear so I could hear the audio while leaving one ear free to hear any remarks from Joe about what he was watching on the TV.

Lately, my FYP consisted of puppies, couples, other WAGS, and thirst edits of Joe (I'm not ashamed).

Just under two weeks ago, I pranked Joe after seeing a video on TikTok and I wouldn't be lying if I said I have a couple more trends I've wanted to test on him.

One of them is the trend that consisted of you playing the song “Water” by Tyla as you secretly record your man to see if they'll try to get a peak of the screen to see her do the water dance.

I already knew that Joe would never openly fawn over another woman in front of me, or in private either really. Knowing it wouldn't have a super-positive impact on me and our relationship. But, there was still a part of me that wanted to see how he'd react to it.

Hell, he probably didn't even know the trend; which honestly would be the best outcome.

My head was lying comfortably on Joe’s shoulder as he intently paid attention to his favorite channel. I discreetly took my Airpod out of my ear and back in the case before pulling up the audio.

I had my phone angled to where it was hidden discreetly but Joe was still in frame.

The show was on a commercial break and through the camera view it showed Joe scrolling on his phone, occasionally laughing at something then scrolling on.

Turning my volume button up, I clicked the record button and studied Joe’s expression.

As soon as he turned I looked at him with a shocked look, but he was only grinning and showing me this video of a fainting goat on his Instagram feed; not even paying attention to the audio.

When he noticed the bitchy look on my face he immediately looked at me rather confused.

“What? Do you not think it's funny?” - Joe

My gaze on him softened when the fact he didn't know any significance of the audio became apparent. When I moved my phone out of its hiding spot and Joe realized he was being recorded, he looked at me even more confused.

“What are you doing?” - Joe

I turned the video off with a laugh and pecked his lips. When I pulled away Joe still looked lost and a little annoyed as to why I hadn't started explaining myself yet.

“Do you not recognize that song?” - you laughed

“No…” - Joe gave you a puzzled look

“It was a little TikTok trend that girls do on their boys. you, my love, are one of the very few that passed.” - you

“Yay?” - Joe

“Very yay, Joey!” - you giggled

Joe smiled slightly before gesturing to the TV that was counting down the time left on the commercial break.

“Can we watch the show now?” - Joe

“Of course. You had such a good reaction that I'm gonna bake you a pumpkin pie later.” - you

“Really?!” - Joe

“Yup!” - you

Joe squeezed me as a thank you and nuzzled his face in my neck, suddenly feeling the need to be cuddled.

“I still don't know what I did that was so right, but I'm glad I made you happy.” - Joe

————————————————————————-

Authors note: this fic was too short to even qualify as an imagine so here’s my first blurb!

Hope you enjoyed! ❤️

#joe burrow #bengals #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x reader #joey b #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow fan fic

[strawberriescherrieskiwi]

Good Girl

Anon request:

N/A.

So exams season is definitely over for me but I know so many of you are studying and stressing so here is Kyle to reward you for all your hard work. Thank you to @media2005 for putting this idea in my head and congratulation on doing well on your exam

Wordcount: 2.6K+

Masterlist

Description: You are sure you never want to study again. Forget studying and exams and Kyle just casually playing instead studying, but with a little incentive you’ll be a good girl and study hard.

A/N: First ever Kyle. I didn’t have plan to ever write for him because his personality is a bit difficult to translate and make a decent human being, but I am happy with this and had a lot of fun. Sorry in advance for the amount of times he called her good girl, I just want Kyle to constantly call me that.

Warning: Praise kink, smut, public smut, oral, somnophilia, fluff ending.

“Why did they bring letters into math? Were numbers not enough? Were imaginary numbers not enough? Now there are letters and all this bullshit. I am trying to get a degree in literature why do I have to take this class,” you complained, slamming your math book.

A chuckle from across the room drew your eyes to Kyle, who lounged on your bed strumming his bass. He was relaxed unlike you who was stressing about all the exams you had in just a few days.

“What is so funny, Kyle?” You huffed.

He lazily looked up from his instrument, smirking over at you. He shrugged pulling out a cigarette and lighting it up. “Nothing,” he said.

You glared at him getting up and walking over to him, opening the window in your dorm room. “My roommate is going to complain if the room smells like smoke again. I don’t want to get kicked out.”

“Forget that roommate, move in with me. You know my dad is overcompensating for his cancer and is renting me a place downtown. Using his money to buy my love,” he paused to chuckle and take a long drag, blowing a ring of smoke. “Pointless anyways he knows money is just temporary and does nothing for me. Either way, it’s big enough for the both of us.”

You rolled your eyes. “Only people with money say money is temporary,” you pointed out.

“Why are you bringing that up? I don’t have money. My parents do.”

“Ah, Kyle you are so annoying sometimes,” you said, grabbing his bass and sitting in his lap. Kyle smirked, wrapping his arm around your waist. Kyle held the cigarette to your lips.

“You like that I’m annoying,” he stated. You scoffed, but he was not wrong so you took a long drag, keeping your eyes on him the whole time. His eyes darker slightly and you blow the smoke out the window.

Kyle grabbed your chin between his thumb and pointer finger, pulling you down until your lips connected. You kissed slowly and sensually for a few minutes before Kyle pulled away. “You have studying to do.” He said, pushing you gently off his lap.

He grabbed his bass and went back to strumming. You whined but Kyle ignored you. “Fuck this song is going to kill at the next concert,” he said, nodding. Moving his cigarette to one side of his mouth as he wrote down some lyrics.

“Kyle, why aren’t you studying?” You said, moving back to your desk.

“I’m a music major. I am studying.”

“We both know you aren’t studying.”

“I don’t need to. If I fail, I fail. This degree is just a formality. L’Enfance Nue is going to take off. We are already getting some attention and higher-paid gigs. I’m just doing this to please my father.”

“Must be so freeing to not have to fucking stress,” You groaned, opening your math book once more, but the moment you saw a long problem you slammed the book back. You laid your head on the book, groaning.

Kyle chuckled getting up and walking over to you. He kissed the back of your neck. “I’ll make a deal with you. If you study for an hour, I’ll go down on you,” he whispered in your ear, biting your lobe.

A shiver went down your spine and you whined softly. “A whole hour? Not 30 minutes?” You tried to bargain with him. You were so done with studying and you wanted nothing more than to have Kyle between your thighs.

“Next try. You’ve barely done anything,” he said, moving back from you. Kissing the back of your head. “Study.”

“I thought school was pointless. A formality?”

“I know it means a lot to you. You’ll be a mess if you fail. Just know after this semester you’ll only be taking classes that you enjoy. No more of this math crap,” he said.

You sighed knowing he was telling the truth. “Fine, an hour, and then we will have some fun.” You lifted your head and turned around in your seat to look at him.

“Yes study like the good girl I know you are and then I’ll get on my knees and worship your pretty pussy until you only remember my name,” he said, pressing his lips to yours.

You whimpered into his mouth, grabbing his curls and pulling him closer, but Kyle grabbed your hands and moved them away from his hair, and slowly pulled away. “Study, Baby, and then you’ll get your reward.”

Sighing softly, you nodded, pecking his lips once more. “Okay, play me that song you wrote last week.”

“The one you think is about you?” He teased.

“Unless you have another girl you like going down on, that loves literature and put up with your fake eat-the-rich bullshit, it’s about me.”

Kyle pouted, going to sit back on your bed, and pulled his bass into his lap. “It’s not fake. Eat them, they are fucking up the economy. You know I don’t lie,” he said in his typical monotone voice, but you could still hear the slight pout and whine.

You laughed slightly. “I know babe and I was joking.”

He nodded not saying anything.

“Babe, you aren’t upset are you?”

“No, study. Just thinking about writing something about unsupportive girlfriends,” he said, looking up at you with a wink.

“Dramatic.”

“I’m an artist what do you expect,” he chuckled.

Rolling your eyes you turn back to your textbook, notebook, and highlighters. “You can do this, you can do this,” you whispered to yourself.

“Sexy how you talk to yourself.”

“Write a song about it,” you said, already in the zone.

You study for the next hour and once you were finished you felt a lot better about your exam. You sighed happily closing your book and turning around. You laughed as you saw Kyle slumped against the wall, his mouth hung open sleeping with little snores coming out of his mouth.

Getting up you put his Bass away and get between his legs. You undid his pants and moaned as his cock was revealed to you. You pumped him until he was completely hard, he was always half hard, and took his head in your mouth.

Kyle groaned in his sleep, his hips leaving the bed and forcing his cock deeper down your throat. You choked slightly, moaning around him, tightening your lips and sucking him faster.

“Shit, that’s my good girl,” he groaned. You looked up at him and chuckled when you saw he was still asleep. Pulling him out of your mouth, you stroked him with your hands, teasing his tip with your thumb.

“Babe, love your cock so much. Love you sliding down my throat, feel so fucking good. Am I being so good for you, babe?” You moaned.

“Shit. Yeah so good. Always my good girl. Always the best for me,” he said. His eyes squeezed tighter and he panted heavily. His teeth sunk into his lower lip and you knew he was close.

You took him back into your mouth more enthusiastic than before. Swallowing his cock all the way down your throat, moaning and tugging on his balls. Kyle's hips fucked deep into your throat, causing you to choke again. Your spit coating his cock and your throat spammed.

“Shit shit shit, take my cum,” Kyle groaned as he filled your mouth. You continued to pump him and take all his cum. Kyle grabbed your jaw and your eyes snapped up to him and connected with his green eyes.

“What are you doing?” He said, stroking your cheek, groaning as he felt his cock through it.

“I was waking you up,” you said, pulling off with a soft pop. Running your fingers through the cum that spilled down the side of your mouth and pushing it back in.  Kyle cursed, pulling you close and kissing you deeply.

“Fucking best way to get woken up. You are like… You are a gift. All my good deeds paying off,” he rambled as he kissed you.

You laughed pushing him away. “Speaking of gifts. I studied for a full hour. I think I was promised something?” You teased.

Kyle furrowed his brows. “Really? I don’t remember. Got my cock sucked stupid. Both heads are useless.”

“Kyle, you promised me,” you whined.

“Don’t remember, baby,” he said, shrugging, his voice deeper and with a slower drawl still heavy with sleep and post glow.

You kicked his knee getting off the bed. “I guess I’ll go find someone else to reward me for all my studying.”

Kyle nodded nonchalantly and laid down completely on your bed, snuggling with your pillow. “Okay. Have fun.”

“I’m really going to leave,” you said, slipping on your jumper over your T-shirt and slipping on your shoes.

“Yeah, I heard you the first time, have fun,” He said, closing his eyes.

You glared at him, but he didn’t react. You grabbed his lighter and cigarettes leaving your dorm. You slightly hoped your roommate came back and got him kicked out, but that would get you in trouble.

You quickly lit one up and walked around the quad before leaning against a tree. You smoked as you looked up at the moon beyond annoyed with Kyle. He was the most annoying person sometimes and while you enjoyed his company and oddities most of the time, sometimes you wanted to punch him.

“I can’t believe you left,” Kyle said with his hands deep in his pockets as he walked over to you.

“I said I would.”

“That’s so dramatic of you to leave. I was joking.”

“I’m dating a man that doesn’t participate in our economy. We are kind of a dramatic couple.”

Kyle moved in front of you dropping to his knees. Working on your pants. You sighed looking down at him. “What are you doing?” You asked.

“You left but I wanted to eat your pretty pussy. So I’m going to do it now,” he said plainly.

“Are you joking, we are in public anyone could see us,” you said, taking another drag of your cigarette.

“I never joke when it comes to your pretty pussy,” he said, pulling your pants down your legs.

“You joked about it earlier,” you pointed out.

“Hmm, no, I don’t believe so,” He said, tugging your underwear down and putting your left leg on his shoulder. “Look at your pretty pussy. How could I deny myself of this,” He groaned.

“You did.”

“You are talking too much. Smoke and enjoy," he said attaching his lips to your clit, sucking as if his life depended on it.

“Fuck, Kyle,” you groaned, digging your heel into his back. You glanced around making sure no one was nearby and could see what you two were doing, but fuck the longer he was on his knees the less you cared.

“Good girl. Moan for me. Let everyone know who is eating your pussy, who you belong to,” He demanded as he bit your thighs and pulled you closer, making you sit on his face. Kyle circled your clit slowly and teasingly for a few minutes until you were crying and begging for more.

“Don’t tease me. Please, Kyle. Please please, please. Don’t tease me. I studied and I was such a good girl, please make me cum.”

“So noisy everyone is going to hear you. Gonna get kicked out,” he teased, spitting on your pussy and flicking your clit a few times. “Needy, girl.”

“Only for you.”

“Really, what about the guy you came out to find?” He said darkly, working his tongue into your tight pussy and moaning obscenely into your sloppy core. You groaned looking down at him, cursing as you saw how far his head was in your pussy. His eyes were closed and his cock was hard.

“God, there is no one else, Kyle. Always you, only you.” You chanted.

“Fucking better be,” he moaned. The vibration had you gasping as your orgasm rushed through you. You covered your mouth to lower your sounds as you screamed riding his face.

Kyle didn’t let up and kept fucking you with his tongue. He parted your folds with his fingers so he could be deeper, his nose bumping against your clit. The sound of your wet cunt had you blushing, but you grabbed his curls and road out your orgasm.

Your legs shook and you whimpered softly, pushing his head away when it became too much. He pressed one last kiss to your cunt before pulling back. His face dripping with your cum.

You flushed and put out your cigarette and slowly put your leg on the ground. “Kyle fuck. You fuck,” you said, breathing in as much air as your lungs allowed, trying to calm down unable to get your words out.

Kyle smirked, getting to his feet, and licking his lips. “I kept my promise, baby girl. You did good studying and I wanted to reward you,” he said, grabbing your hips and picking you up, shoving his tongue down your throat.

“Fuck, Kyle, let’s go back to my dorm, please, I need to feel you in me,” you moaned. Kyle pulled back and nodded, grabbing your hand and pulling you toward your dorm. You both giggled, stopping every feel meters and kissing each other until your lungs felt like they were going to pop.

The moment the door closed behind you both, your clothes were coming off and thrown around the room. Kyle spun you around a few times, causing you both to laugh and fall onto your bed with Kyle landing on top.

Kyle stopped laughing looking down at you, smiling softly, and pushing some hair out of your face. Kyle just stared at you with the softest expression ever that made your heart speed up.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” You said, pushing his face away.

Kyle let you push him but was back on you, staring down at you. “I don’t know. It’s just. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. And like, I just realized I love you.”

You two had been together for over 2 years and while everyone had comments about your relationship that it seemed too casual. You never said the words before because you never wanted to scare Kyle away. Hell, you only label your relationship weeks ago.

“So you didn’t say anything back. It’s cool if you don’t feel the same. You know love being chemicals and it could just be the high from a good orgasm and eating your pussy.” He said after a moment.

“Do you think I would have put up with you for 2 years if I didn’t love you?” You questioned.

Kyle shrugged. “I don’t know. We... you know just enjoy each other company and the sex is good. And, I don’t know. You’ve always been so cool and chill and not like how girlfriends are in films and shit and I don’t know. I love that and I love you.” He looked away his cheek heating up.

“Ah, Kyle, I am going to have to tell the whole band about this. You are all cute and shy and lovely. Who are you and what have you done with my boyfriend.” You teased.

“Don’t tease me. I am being serious.”

“I know you were born serious.” You pecked his lips, grinning up at him. “For the record, I do love you as well.”

He sighed, cupping the side of your head. “That’s a fucking relief.”

And then he kissed you again.

                                                    Taglist.

@gatoenlaciudad​ @iloveneilperry​ @valencia-rou @s-we-e-t-t-ea​

#timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet imagine #timothee x reader #kyle scheible #kyle scheible x reader #timothee chalamet x you #lady bird imagines #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet imagines #timothee chalamet smut #smut

[saintslewis]

Spin bout u • LN4

pairing: lando norris x black fem driver!reader

summary: in which he finds out about what your boyfriend’s doing to you and he has to stop it before he loses you.

warnings: mentions of an abusive relationship, violence, swearing, protective grid, mentions of bruises.

saint’s notes: so i have such a school girl crush on Lando, it’s not even funny anymore so here’s something. i was just scrolling and i saw @bbymelsworld indirectly requesting this so let’s start! sorry if there’s typos!

taglist: @thisismeracing @certifiedlesbianbaddie

-

P5.

Just 4 places behind your teammate, Lewis. As much your team, Mercedes, had decided to celebrate the qualifying positions and you were both set for Silverstone, you knew you were in trouble the minute you got out of the racing car.

Standing close to the garage entrance, you took a sip from your large bottle of water and watched how the other drivers were getting ready for post-qualifying interviews with smiles on their faces and the atmosphere was buzzing. You hadn’t noticed that Lewis was walking towards you, placing his hand on your shoulder causing you to violently flinch at the sudden contact.

“Oh uh, hi Lewis.” You sheepishly smiled, hoping that he would completely forget about the past few seconds. His eyes bore into yours but he knew the media was watching the both of you so he didn’t want to ask any questions that would raise suspicions. He immediately put a smile on his face, removing his hand from your shoulder. “You killed it on track,man. Proud of you as always. A few of the drivers and I are getting some ice cream after the big day. Are you up for it?” He suggested, knowing that your mood had decreased the moment you stepped out of the car.

Lewis was the mentor you had been hoping for since before your karting days. Starting off in 2022, you came into the F1 world scared of what would come to you. You were now the second black driver on the grid, a woman and the youngest, just two months short of Oscar Piastri. After the announcement of your arrival in F1 and into Mercedes, the world went insane at your presence. Lewis had been there for you since your first day, helping you handle the challenges of being black and the only woman after decades in F1.

The rest of the grid had welcomed you with open arms, loving your energy and kindness that you would often display the first half of the 2022 season until after a race in Spa did they notice your entire demeanour change whenever anyone was near you. How you would push yourself to your limits which resulted in a crash in Imola that had everyone worried for your safety. How you used to be known as Lewis’ protégé in terms of paddock fashion but now you barely show any skin. How your smile used to brighten up any room you were in but now it barely reaches your eyes. They had speculations that you could possibly be in a relationship but they didn’t want to assume.

However Lando kept his eye on you, with him being the first to always notice your mood changes and the way you would distance yourself from everyone every time you wouldn’t get pole. His crush on you was as clear as day to anyone who paid attention and both of your fans would highlight your interactions, especially when you would go film with Quadrant as a special guest and definitely when he pointed out that you had the same McLaren, just in different colours.

“Um I might take you up on that one, Lew. Thank you.” You quietly said and he nodded, turning away from you to begin his interviews. You too needed to get ready for your interviews but you knew you had a limit today; 5 interviews with female reporters and immediately return home to your boyfriend of two years.

Patting the last of your body foundation on your arms, you heard your phone vibrate with various text messages from your boyfriend, Beckham.

Beck

i’m going out with the boys

you better be home when i get home

you

can you at least not come home smelling like another woman?

Beck

fix that stupid sentence and pray i go easy on you today, bitch

You sighed, switching your phone off completely and leaving the driver’s room while fixing the band of your leggings, the chain clinking and sparkling under the Mercedes garage lights. Walking past Toto’s seat and giving him your special handshake, you got to the media pen with your assistant, Jamie, trailing behind you.

“Hello Y/n!” A reporter who you quickly recognised as Kim waved you over to where she was standing and you excitedly walked up to her. “Hi, hope you’re well.” You greeted, steadying yourself on the barricade. “ I am, thank you. You look awfully happy. Is P5 good for you?” She asked.

“Uh, it’s definitely better than last week. That’s for sure.” You responded, the memory of receiving P12 and receiving a harsh greeting when you got to the hotel came to your mind but you quickly pushed it to the back of your mind. As you spoke with her, Kim and Jamie alike had noticed smudges on your arms but didn’t want to intrude. “I’m sorry Y/n but if you don’t mind me asking, what happened to your forearm?” Kim questioned, taking a closer look at it only for you to snatch your arm away in a gentle manner.

“Oh, this! Just bumped into the door a little too hard.” You gave a fake smile, your bracelets clinking together to somewhat hide the almost green looking bruise that seemed large from afar. “That door must’ve hated you because it definitely left a mark.” Kim hissed at the look of your bruise. You could’ve sworn that your forearm had the most coverage from the body foundation.

Before you could even get another word out, a familiar presence came up behind you and placed a hand on your upper arm, causing you to flinch once again and this time, the whole world had certainty seen everything. You internally cringed at the thought of this very moment being captured. Turning around, you saw that it was Lando with a smile on his face but his beautiful green eyes told a completely different story. “Hey n/n, just came to congratulate you for P5.” He greeted, his eyes moving to examine the face he was slowly falling for. Lando could tell that you were uncomfortable so he had to come up with something, quickly.

“I uh bumped into umm Naomi and she’s looking for you. She said it’s important.” He quickly blurted out, noticing the confusion on your face but you quickly fixed your face to turn and excuse yourself from Kim and the media pen as a whole.

As you began walking with Lando silently, you battled keeping your tears from falling, your breathing becoming increasingly faster but you couldn’t break because the media was following you everywhere. Putting on a fake smile, you gave a few cameras a wave as you walked in the direction of the Mercedes garage. You turned to Lando so quickly, it almost tripped him up. “Um I’ll see you tomorrow, Norris.” You said, terrified at the fact that the cameras were pointed to you and that this footage would reach Beckham.

“O-oh okay. Uh travel safe.” Lando stuttered, sensing your nerves as he watched you practically run into the motor home. He didn’t want to be that person but he has a feeling that his suspicions were right.

-

P6.

Your hands shaking terribly as you took off your gloves and ran to your driver’s room, completely ignoring the media following behind you. Lewis, who had won the race, cut his interviews short as he saw you running. He made his way into the Mercedes garage, unaware that two other drivers were following him too. You only had a panic attack once and that was the cause of your crash, resulting in a mild concussion.

Most of the grid was extremely protective over you as they had sworn to be after the media would continuously attack you just for your existence so check-ups on you were quite frequent, especially when you changed your entire demeanour.

Jamie was already with you, holding your head in an embrace as the both of you cradled together outside your driver’s room. You tried to keep your sobs silent, scared that he would hear you as if he fed off of your fear towards him. Hearing heavy footsteps coming in your direction, you slightly lifted your head just to see Lewis, Charles and Lando look extremely worried as they slowed their pace to approach you.

You hid your head further away from them, not wanting your fellow drivers to see you like that. Your teammate was the first one to crouch down next to you, giving breathing exercises to you to help you calm down. Wiping your tears with the back of your hands and filling them with mascara lines, you stood up hastily and turned to the drivers. “I’ll see you guys later for ice cream.” You managed to croak out, rushing into the driver’s room.

Defeated, the boys hesitantly turned around to return back to what they were doing and all had the same thing in their minds; get to the problem that is bothering you and that has been bothering you for the past year.

Parking your McLaren in the driveway of your house, you let out a sigh of relief when you saw that Beckham’s car wasn’t there as well. As you opened the front door after unlocking it, all you could smell was the strong scent of Chanel No.5, a perfume you would never use but it lingered around your home. The mystery woman’s discarded clothing was laid out on the floor, her undergarments reaching the stairs. Hearing thumps from upstairs, you slowly made your way up there only to find a woman in your walk-in closet, holding a pair of your jeans to her body and she muttered at how these clothes would never fit her.

She was the complete opposite of you. Much skinnier with the shiniest blonde hair and the brightest blue eyes. Clearing your throat, you startled her and she gasped loudly, not expecting anyone to be in the house. “Get out.” You sighed out, looking over the mess she made to your closet. Some of your jewellery was outside of its cases, your bags were skew on their display and your shoes were mismatched. “But B said no one lived here with him.” The girl said with a tone that made you want to drag by her hair.

“Look, get out of my house. I don’t want to repeat this shit.” You said and she still hadn’t put your jeans down, not moving an inch. Placing your handbag on one of the chairs in your closet, you grabbed the girl’s hand and pulled her out of your room and out of your house. Her pleas were pathetic to your ears and you slammed the front door in her face. After a few moments of silence, you could hear her screeching into her phone to your boyfriend about how much of a bitch you were.

After cleaning up all the mess and calling Jamie to organise movers to take all your things to your home in Monaco, it was nearly time for the ice cream night with some of the drivers and you had thought of cancelling on them multiple times but you knew you needed the break. Feeling your phone vibrate as you zoned out, you checked to see who was texting you.

landoooo

hey y/n

this is the ice cream place we’re going to

address

you don’t have to be there if you don’t want to btw

you

i’ll be there, lands :)

landoooo

oh okay cool

see you later y/n :)

you

🥰

You sighed at the thought of covering your scars and bruises and you could not even cover up as it was a boiling hot evening in London (rare). Luckily, you had a few more bottles of body foundation in your second bathroom so you were okay. A shower and a little snack later, you stared at yourself in the mirror and you had stood there for 5 minutes. You were disgusted by yourself. The shorts were hugging you and the tank top was showing your chest a little bit too much but it was covering everything but of course you were overthinking everything. You fixed your cap and shades and grabbed a different bag from before, a Dior saddle bag which was a gift from Lando for your birthday. You cherished this bag because of the artwork on it, a small portrait of your first win on it with the tall buildings of Monaco behind you.

Putting on your crème white Louis Vuitton varsity jacket, you didn’t think twice before taking the car keys and leaving your house in a rush. Around the drivers was the only time you could be happy without Beckham near you. You would’ve had other friends but they were chased away because they spoke up against your relationship. He wanted to keep you around as a trophy, to brag to his friends that he has a well-off girlfriend who will provide for them because that’s all you did. Beckham only worked part time at an electronics store whenever you weren’t around. When he started physically hurting you, you felt trapped and you felt like you would never get out of it. During your first season in F1, you became ‘friends’ with Lando. You were very careful with the friends title because you knew you weren’t allowed to have any guy friends.

Down the line, you began having feelings for the McLaren driver. Just everything about him had attracted you to him but you felt terrible for even thinking of him like that because you felt like Beckham knew each and every one of your thoughts so you gradually distanced yourself from him, slowly depressing yourself because of the lack of communication between you and other drivers. You never wanted Beck to attend any races because you knew he would absolutely embarrass you. He would often say that he would become friends with all the other drivers so that he would never have to deal with you. Not to mention that he was your first everything so you were conflicted about leaving him because you loved him.

Without even noticing, you had reached the ice cream place. It was decorated with different pastel colours and it just looked like the place to cheer anyone up. Making your way into the shop, one of the employees was tasked to guide to their private area for vip and a few people recognised you as you made your way into the room. Hearing the driver’s laughs bouncing off the walls, you pushed the door and alerted them of your arrival. “She’s here!” A very happy sounding Max cheered causing the others to cheer as well. You went around the incredibly long table to greet everyone and a few stood up to hug you. Sat between Lewis and Mick, a menu was already placed in front of you along with a small cup of cookies and cream flavoured ice cream, your absolute favourite. Looking at the seat in front of you, Lando gave you a slight nod and a grin. You smiled right back at him and dug in.

Throughout the evening, you spoke to mainly everyone from your seat and took your jacket off during your conversation with Carlos who was right next to Lando. You never realised how whenever you were talking with anyone, you always rubbed your arms and you were doing quite excessively at the moment, unaware that your body foundation was quickly rubbing off and your bruises and scars were become visible to anyone who was looking. Feeling something sticky on your hands, you excused yourself from the table to go to the bathroom to wash your hands.

As soon as you closed the door, everyone turned their heads to where you were sitting. Releasing a small sigh, Lance began speaking. “Um so everyone saw the bruises right?” He questioned and everyone hummed in agreement. “I know this is obvious but clearly they weren’t self-inflicted. Does anyone know anything?” Esteban spoke up. “Would that be the reason why she covers up these days?” Pierre asks, examining your jacket which had a few smudges on the inside of the arms. Your phone began vibrating against the table, Siri notifying that Beck had been calling. All the drivers looked to Lewis to answer the call. Although he didn’t want to go over his boundaries with your private life, he was curious and definitely had questions.

As Lewis answered and put the phone on speaker, he couldn’t even get a word out before Beck began his rant. “I thought i said you should be home by the time I get there, you fucking bitch. If I find out you’re with other guys, you’re dead.” He warned through the phone, immediately alarming the guys. “Ay man, who the fuck are you talking to like that?” Lewis began, he was already livid and held his car keys in his hands.

“Of course she’s with other guys! What? Is she giving herself to you guys like the bitch she is? Huh? Getting passed around?” Beck cackled loudly. “Just shut up,man. Are you the one putting your hands on her?” Lewis grumbled. “And what about it, bro? Are you gonna tell on me?” He mocked. “Whoever the fuck you guys are, you can’t get nothing from me. She’s nothing without me and she knows it.” Beck yelled, sounding sober and the rest of the guys knew it was time to go handle him. Before anyone could say anything more, you walked into the room with a small smile only to be met with silence and a few drivers surrounding something.

“Guys? What’s going on?” You trailed off, going closer to your seat. “Oh there she is! Listen Y/n, come home and we can talk about your little friends, okay? Just want to talk. Also, P6 today? You already know what’s gonna happen. See you soon.” Beckham taunted you and he hung up the call, your stomach dropping once you realised the situation. Tears pricked your eyes as you looked at the drivers who were already looking at you with concern.

“Um-” Your voice broke as your throat closed and you felt the first two tears fall. Being pulled into a hug, you began sobbing quietly and that broke the driver’s hearts. Smelling the familiar cologne, you realised it was Lando and that made you sob even more, knowing that you couldn’t be near him during all of this. Feeling a hand on your back, you looked to see it was Lewis. “Y/n, we’re coming with you when you drive home. He will never threaten or hurt you while we’re around.” He assured, rubbing your shoulder and being careful to not add pressure to the huge bruise there. Looking around the room, all the drivers were gathering their things with anger prevelant on their faces. “We’ll be in the parking lot, Y/n!” Max called out as he walked out and everyone followed after him, leaving just you and Lando in the room.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Y/n. I’m sorry I didn’t protect you.” Lando whispered as his cheek laid on your braided head. Sniffling, you answered him. “It’s not your fault, Lands. I kept thinking it was going to get better and it never did. It’s never going to get better.” You sobbed out the last sentence and you felt him hug you tighter. “As long as I’m here, love, everything will be alright. You’re not alone in this. I can’t have you staying with him any longer.” He pleaded, not letting go of the embrace.

“But Lands, he’s going to kill me if I don’t stay. I already don’t have family or friends because he chased everyone away. I feel like I have no one. I want to leave, I really do but I can’t.” You said in a wobbly voice. “No, Y/n. Don’t say that. We’ll get him sorted out. We got you.” He assured you, holding your face in his large hands. He leaned to kiss your forehead and for that moment, you felt peace for the first time in over a year.

-

With a convoy of 10 supercars on the way to your house, you sat in your car nervous as you led your fellow drivers to your house. Devising a plan before you all left the ice cream place, you would park your car in the driveway and they would follow. You would go into the house and shine a flashlight from a window to let them know that he’s inside the house with you. Driving into your street had your heart racing.

As you got out of the car, you walked to your front door and left it unlocked. You hesitantly took your shoes off, afraid that any sound would alarm him. You shone your flashlight on the window, praying that they saw the signal. “What are you doing?” You heard that rough voice that scared the life out of you. You turned around to face Beck. “T-there was a spider on the window so I was just checking that.” You uncomfortably smiled as you switched the flashlight off. He nodded and walked back to wherever he came from.

Following after him, he sat in the kitchen with a glass of whiskey, sipping from it ever so slowly. “It’s just you and me now.” He smirked and that sent shivers up your spine. “I don’t like your coworkers, they aren’t very nice people.” He mocked with a small smile on his face. Looking at him, your attraction for him disappeared a long time ago, after he began hurting you. His eyes weren’t inviting like Lando’s neither did his smile make you feel safe. Wait, why are you comparing him to Lando?

Breathing in and preparing yourself for everything, you knew it was the only way to end this. “Beckham, I’m leaving you and I’m moving. I want to dead whatever this has become.” You stood your ground, feeling extremely proud of yourself for what you’ve just done. He began chuckling then began full on laughing. “You were always such a jokester.” He said, wiping a non existent tear after laughing that hard.

You knew exactly what was coming next but you couldn’t prepare yourself to run as fast as you wanted. Beckham threw the glass of whiskey next to your head, the shards of glass shattered everywhere and you screamed, running away from the kitchen and out your front door. The drivers saw you running onto the street and got out of their cars. Lando guided you into his car and asked you to sit in it and that he will be back soon. Grabbing a hold of his arm, you asked him to stay with you in the car.

After a few beats of silence between the two of you, he began to speak. “What are you gonna do after this? Like where are you gonna stay?” He questioned, looking at you as you looked straight ahead. “I have an penthouse in Monaco but it’s not yet finished. I don’t know when I was going to move.” You informed him, avoiding his eye contact. “I’m thinking of going to a hotel for the night.” You eventually looked at him and he shook his head a little. “I know I’m stepping on some toes here but come stay by me and we’ll go to Monaco tomorrow.” Lando suggested and you reacted without thinking by kissing his lips quickly.

“You would do that for me?” You asked in a breathy voice. He kissed you back with a little more passion than the first kiss you two shared. “I’d do anything for you, Y/n.” Lando looked into your eyes and you were happily that your feelings towards each other were mutual. Leaning on his shoulder in a comfortable silence, you’re both startled by the knocking on the window only to see that it was Lewis. “So Y/n, just grab whatever you can for tonight and we’ll come back and get everything tomorrow.” Lewis grinned then gave you two a thumbs up as he goes back into the house and the others start leaving.

Getting out of Lando’s car, you went up to each one of the drivers to thank them for their help and support. “What did you guys do in there?” You questioned Max and Charles and they looked at each other with a look. “Someone just cover her eyes when going upstairs.” Carlos said behind you, seeing him walk out onto the lawn with his hair disheveled. “Not to mention the police are on their way for him.” Lance smiled and you could’ve sworn you saw a bit of blood on his shirt.

You looked back at Lando who simply smiled at you and you leaned into his touch as he threw his arm around you.

yourusername

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yourusername the class of ‘23 (and a few of the other guys) 🫶🏽

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user this is the cutest picture omg but where are you??

yourusername i took the pic love :)

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user you’re in her BUSINESS DAMN

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#formula 1 #formula one x black reader #x black fem reader #f1 x reader #f1 x you #formula one x reader #x black reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris x black reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #spotify

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Summer Sun, Something's Begun

Part of my Birthday Bash!

Request: "You're so cool, it makes me hate you so much." with Roy :)

I'm Bright Baby Blue, Falling Into You

Roy Kent x Reader

2.1k words

Warnings: Language, Chelsea!Roy, lots of fluff and flirting

Author's Note: This takes place during Roy's time in Chelsea, so he's in his mid-20s. The reader is his manger's very off-limits daughter, early 20s. I loved writing this so much, I'm going to add more to it later- so keep an eye out! 👀

Summers were for Chelsea.

For as long as you could remember, as soon as the school year ended, your mind focused on nothing but football. Throughout your childhood, you’d join your father at the facilities, watching the team prepare for the new season. Everything about it felt magical: the green of the pitch, the bright blue skies above, the shouts and excitement from the team. You looked forward to the first day of term, when everyone spoke about their summer holidays, the places they’d visited and the friends they got together with, when you would gush about the players you watched train and the matches you attended.

Now, you packed your bags at the end of each term and came home from uni, still feeling that same flutter of joy as you thought about training. A young adult yourself now, your dad still let you loiter around the team. Pretty much since you were old enough to drive, he treated you more like an assistant, asking you to grab lunches or help answer emails. As far as summer jobs went, this one felt like a great deal to you; hang out with your dad and the squad all day and get paid in match tickets whenever you and your mates wanted.

Of course, your role at the club wasn’t the only thing that changed. As a child, the players doted on you, asking about your dog or kicking around the ball with you before hitting the showers. You were Chelsea’s little princess, running around in jean shorts and too-big t-shirts. But now? Now you were the same age as many of the players, a young woman. Sure, the older players who’d known you for years, the ones who had watched you grow up, still joked around with you and treated you like family. But the younger players, the ones who were closer to your age than your father’s, definitely saw you differently. You caught the lingering stares, the cocky grins shot in your direction when they did something impressive on the pitch, the nudges when you strolled by the weight room when you brought the coaches their lunches.

Not that a single one of them would ever do anything about it. They were young, but they weren’t stupid. You were the manager’s daughter; you were the very definition of off-limits.

Which was totally fine with you, by the way. You didn’t care much for the attention of the young footballers, no matter how fit or wealthy they were. Not when you only had eyes for one midfielder in particular.

Roy Kent. Roy freaking Kent. With those brown eyes and those little smirks and that growling voice, not to mention that gorgeous chest hair you thought about way to often to be healthy, you were positively, absolutely smitten. He was brilliant to watch on the pitch, and he was pretty clever and funny when he cared to be. While his reputation centered around his scowls and brooding air, you often found yourself falling into step with him in the halls, offering teasing remarks back and forth and eliciting light chuckles from the mouth you thought about all year long back at school.

Ever since you started university, your dad had joked about not dating footballers. And normally, you were a good kid and listened to your parents. But the sound of Roy Kent’s laughter and the sight of his bare chest in the changing room always had you wanting to ignore your dad’s advice.

Because ever since he arrived at Chelsea, summers were for Roy Kent.

This summer was no different.

After a full week of Roy catching you staring at him on the pitch and making jokes that you laughed a smidge too hard at, you discovered him on the pitch long after practice had ended for the day and most players had begun to go home. Well, maybe ‘discovered’ was the wrong word. That made it sound like a coincidence, like you hadn’t quietly slipped away from your father’s office and followed the midfielder out of the building. Like you hadn’t perched yourself in the stands, not in an obvious spot, but definitely not hiding either as you watched him absently dribble around the grass while the sun began to set. Like you hadn’t been doing this for three days in a row now.

After maybe five minutes of watching him, he finally turned his head in your direction. “Oi!” he called out. “You just going to sit there and watch?” Even from a distance you could see the smile on his face, the one he usually saved for you.

You shrugged and stood, smoothing down the dress you may or may not have chosen while thinking about what Roy would think of it. It took every ounce of self-control not to skip down the stands, across the grass, and fling yourself into his arms, the way you wished you could after Chelsea victories. Instead, you strolled casually towards him, hands innocently behind your back, until you were gazing up at those pretty brown eyes, the ones that always seemed to sparkle when he looked at you.

“Enjoy the show?” Roy razzed, quirking one of those thick eyebrows at you.

“I always enjoy watching football,” you countered. You bent down to pick up the ball and began rolling it between your hands. “Especially when I get to watch talented people play.”

Behind the teasing look on his face, you could see in his eyes that he was pleased by your indirect compliment. “You think I’m talented then?” he hummed, doing his best to maintain his indifferent manner.

You wrinkled your nose at him and tossed the ball at his chest, which he caught with a soft grunt. “Who said I was talking about you, Kent? I was just stating the fact that I like watching football.”

His face lit up at your banter, eyebrows raised and mouth agape. You never saw him make that face at work except when you joked around with each other; you wondered if he ever made that face away from the pitch, if he ever made that face at anyone else, at any other girls. “Fuck me then,” Roy laughed, holding the ball close to his chest. He dropped it to the ground with a thud and nudged it towards you with his foot. “Come on, then. Let me prove myself.”

“Me, who hasn’t played football since I was eight, versus you, a Premier League star.” You rolled your eyes and bumped the ball back to him. “Yeah, sounds real fair to me, Kent.”

This time, the surprise he wore was genuine. “You haven’t played since you were eight?” He shook his head at you. “Your dad coaches fucking Chelsea. How the fuck did you manage to not play?”

“I prefer spectating and being a fan,” you stated simply. You wrinkled your nose. “Plus, I wasn’t very good,” you admitted. “I think Dad found it all a little embarrassing. He didn’t make much of a fuss when I quit.”

Roy shook his head and took a step back, dragging the ball with him. “Well, your dad’s not here now,” he pointed out, something close to flirtation in his voice. “And I’ll try to go easy on you, princess.”

Your heart fluttered at the teasing nickname. A few of the players called you that, always playful and joking, but when Roy said it, it made you wonder how other pet names would sound coming out of that beautiful mouth of his. “Fine,” you conceded with a huff, as though you weren’t thrilled at the opportunity to be close to Roy. “But go easy on me.”

Playing football in flats and a dress was not the easiest thing in the world, you discovered. Especially not when your opponent was Chelsea’s skilled and beautiful superstar. Still, you had to admit to yourself that it was fun. It was obvious that Roy did his best to go easy on you, but it wasn’t natural for the midfielder to give anything less than one hundred percent, so even his “easy” was a challenge. But he chuckled as you ran around each other, and a couple times he even laid a hand on your waist; you wondered if he knew the effect it had on you because each time he did, you froze and he was able to steal the ball with ease.

Eventually, you managed to break away from him with the ball at your feet and happiness in your lungs. You really thought you had a chance at scoring a goal when that firm hand landed on your hips. As you tried to wriggle free, your feet tangled with his, and the two of you fell to the ground, a jumble of laughter and bodies and a football. You managed to roll onto your back, grinning at Roy as he sat up and gazed down at you.

“You do suck,” he announced with a smirk. “Better study hard at uni, princess, because even with your daddy in charge, you are never getting signed to Chelsea.”

“I think I’ll live,” you huffed back as he laid beside you. You felt keenly aware of his body next to yours, of his breathing, of how close his hand was to your own. You wondered if he could feel your heart pounding through the ground; part of you worried it would cause the earth to quake, it was beating so hard.

Roy’s voice cut through your thoughts. “Glad to be home for the summer?” he hummed, his casual tone a sharp contrast to your nerves.

You cleared your throat. “I am. It’s always nice to be back with my family. And not worry about schoolwork. Plus, I love being here.” You gestured broadly around the pitch.

“Hmm.” Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Roy squinting at the oranging sky. “Any big summer plans?” His voice was heavy with interest, something rare for Roy Kent. He always seemed so aloof.

“Working here,” you said with a huff. “Same as every summer.” After a moment, you realized he was waiting for you to continue talking. “What about you? Training, training, and more training?” you teased.

He sighed, a low growling sound that had the hairs on the back of your neck prickling. “’ve got a fucking photoshoot tomorrow,” he grumbled. “For fucking Nike. Some international ad campaign or some shit, I don’t fucking know.”

You were instantly reminded that Roy Kent was a professional footballer, a celebrity, a legend in the making, who already had a track record for bedding models and actresses. He was on magazine covers and advertisements. And you were… you. He wasn’t like the boys in your uni classes or the fellas in your neighborhood, earnest young men who nervously asked girls out at pubs and prayed for a ‘yes’. He was a star.

In an attempt to ease your sudden angst, you let out a light chuckle. “Nike photoshoot, huh? Wow, Kent. You’re so cool.” You turned your face towards him and stuck your tongue out playfully. “It makes me hate you so much.”

Roy shifted his head so he was looking at you. “Me? Cool?” He rolled his eyes. “I never feel fucking cool. Especially not around you.” He gazed back up at the sky. “Always feel like a clumsy little kid around you.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest. His voice was so sincere, not an ounce of the joking and teasing usually aimed at in your direction. And you swore his cheeks were tinted pink- and you didn’t think it was from all the running around. Although your mind was racing to a million different places at once, the only thing you could manage to murmur was, “Well, I think you’re pretty fucking cool, Kent.”

He faced you again, squinting at the setting sun that was hitting him just right. “Thanks.” After a moment, you felt his finger brush tentatively against your knuckles. “D’you think I could call you sometime? While you’re home for the summer?” He shrugged, clearly trying to appear more casual than he felt. “We could… hang out or something.”

If you thought your heart was racing before, it was nothing compared to now. You searched his eyes, looking for some sign that he was goofing around, just fucking with you, but all you could find was sunshine and anticipation. Swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat, you nodded, turning your palm upwards so Roy could rest his hand on yours, intertwining your fingers.

“Yeah, Kent,” you finally whispered as a smile crept across your face. “You could call me sometime.”

#tally's birthday bash #request ❤️ #Chelsea!Roy #he's here he's there he's every fucking where #roy kent #roy kent x reader #roy kent fanfic #roy kent fic #roy kent fanfiction #roy kent imagine #ted lasso #ted lasso fic #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fanfiction

[secretsofblackthornhall]

Julian To Kieran

PRIVATE COMMUNIQUE: DO NOT SHARE ON PAIN OF DEATH

From: Julian Blackthorn of Blackthorn Hall

To: Kieran, King of Unseelie

Well, we’re back from the Seelie Court. Good news: we got the fish slice. Bad news: we didn’t learn very much and we raised a lot of suspicion. But I’m happy to share with you how things went in the hope that you will find it informative. I hope also that you will consider it sufficient exchange for the favor you now owe a phouka. (I am pretty sure that favor will involve asking you to buy a hat.)

We were pretty nervous about going, even with Adaon’s invite—the last time we were in Faerie, things were not great. It was all gray smoke and snow and moths and blasted areas of dead land. All of that seems to be over and done with; Faerie looks healthy again. It was autumn there, and the ground was covered in fallen leaves, all red and gold.

Anyway, we followed Adaon’s instructions and entered Faerie through an old barrow at Primrose Hill. We ended up in a forest clearing with two big wooden doors rising up out of the ground. And Adaon was there to meet us, which was nice of him.

But he did not look happy. He hurried over and explained that he had had to tell the Queen we were coming. “There isn’t much that occurs under her roof,” he said, “of which she is unaware. It is how she has maintained her power all this time, in part.”

He looked so miserable that Emma told him it was all fine and we weren’t doing anything that the Queen would disapprove of, or even care about. He just kind of shook his head. “One never knows just what her Majesty will care about. Or disapprove of. She has bid me take you both to the throne room upon your arrival, and so that is what I must do.”

Now I began to feel a bit more nervous. I reminded Adaon that he had guaranteed our safety. He said, “By the laws of hospitality, not to mention the Accords, she may not harm you or detain you, if your purpose be virtuous.” But he was shaking his head again.

“Let me guess,” I said. “The Queen has the exclusive power to decide if our purpose is virtuous or not.”

Adaon smiled thinly. “Quite.” But he brought us to the throne room.

The throne room was just as autumn-themed as the clearing. More so, really. But it wasn’t about the end of the growing season or being sad that summer was over. It was more like a harvest celebration. There were cornucopias, is what I’m saying, spilling over with gourds, apples, pears, corncobs. There were hay bales, which is kind of funny since nobody in that throne room has, I promise you, ever baled hay. There were pixies with fiery butterfly wings, circling the ceiling.

The Queen was, not surprisingly, on her throne. She wore a dress that I swear, was entirely made of glittering green scarab beetles sewed together. Her hair was like an explosion of red-gold flames around her face. She doesn’t look sickly or emaciated anymore, like she did when we last saw her, and she seemed to exude a power she’d been missing before. 

There were the usual groups of faeries scattered around the room—courtiers, I guess—gossiping, tittering, sometimes just sitting around being louche. So everything seemed normal there. They barely paid attention to us, just kind of craned their necks over, realized we weren’t interesting, and got back to lounging.

I expected the Queen to immediately start insulting us, but she was actually quite cordial. Not warm. But not unfriendly, either. Of course, she did want to be complimented on the décor first. She waved her hand around at the throne room and opened with, “You choose a fair season to visit us.”

“It’s cheerier than last time,” Emma said.

“And yet you have chosen to return,” the Queen said, as though she was pleased about it, “despite the…lack of cheer at our last meeting.”

“It has been a long time since we saw our friend Adaon,” I said. “We sought the pleasure of his company.”

“Sayest thou such?” said the Queen, which I suspect is Faerie-speak for So, that’s obviously bullshit.  “As you must know, it is not outside the realm of my knowledge that your brother is the consort of the Unseelie King.”

“Only one of his consorts,” Emma pointed out.

The Queen ignored her. “Surely you’ve anticipated that I would suspect you of espionage.”

“We are not here for the Unseelie King,” I said, “but rather regarding our interests in the Seelie Court. Indeed, our family is connected to the Seelie Court in several ways. As you know.”

The Queen ignored me as well. “Your best defense, it seems to me, is that you are such obvious choices for espionage, that surely Kieran Kingson [I think this was meant to be an insult to you, me or both of us] would be cleverer than to choose you as his spies.”

“That too,” Emma said.

“Well, then,” the Queen said. “Spin me a tale. What is your purpose here?”

I felt like we had nothing to lose with the truth—we really weren’t doing anything the Queen should care about. So I gave her the whole story: we inherited a house in London; the house is cursed; we want to undo the curse. I emphasized that neither the house nor the curse were fey-related at all. (I did not bring up Round Tom, as I thought it would be distracting to the main point.)

Breaking the curse requires that (among other things) we get our hands on this fish slice; we’ve learned the fish slice is or was in the possession of Socks MacPherson the phouka; we’ve come to bargain with him for it, and we arranged an invitation through Adaon because we had no way to contact MacPherson directly.

“All we need to do,” Emma said, “is barter with MacPherson for the fish slice. We can do it right here in the throne room, if he could be sent for.”

The Queen looked very interested all of a sudden. “You are willing to do the business here, and never enter the Court proper at all?”

I explained to the Queen that we strongly shared her desire for us not to have to enter the Court.

She seemed surprised, but she called over one of the courtiers and murmured to him. “The phouka will be sent for,” she said. “Prince Adaon, when the Nephilim have concluded their negotiation with him, you will escort them back outside and see them off.” Adaon bowed his assent. “And now,” she said, and her eyes flicked over to one side, “I must beg your pardon, as I see that I am needed.”

We stepped aside to let her descend the throne. I saw that a man had come in who I didn’t recognize—but he was clearly someone of importance given how differently he was dressed than anybody else there. Rather than garb appropriate to court, he was in a gray-green hooded cloak, and his face was obscured by a mask like a falcon head. His clothes were more appropriate to hunting in the woods than anything else, but they were perfectly clean. I didn’t know what to make of him—but I thought I had better pass along his description to you. You said to look for anything new or out of place, and I couldn’t help feeling like he was.

We waited around and chatted with Adaon for a couple of minutes and then Socks MacPherson showed up. We’ve met a couple phoukas before—one of them is the gatekeeper at the LA Shadow Market, as you might remember—and I had thought maybe MacPherson would turn out to be one of those, but no, totally different guy. He was wearing a huge round fur hat that his ears stuck through. It was a lot of hat.

 He seemed surprised that the Queen had left us alone, and said he was sorry if we had been harassed overmuch on his account. I said she had probably meant to loom over us but had been called away unexpectedly. MacPherson shrugged and said, “She thinks everything is a move in some game of five-dimensional chess she is playing. But sometimes, someone only wants to trade me something for a kitchen tool. Speaking of which, I have the fish slice.”

He took it out of a kind of carpet bag he had brought with him, and immediately the Ghost Sensor went off like crazy and he kind of jumped away and hid behind one of the groups of courtiers. Although we could still see his hat. (And his ears twitching above the hat.) So we had to go over and explain that it was just a device that detected the cursed objects we were looking for and that the noise was good because it confirmed that the fish slice was the one we wanted. The courtiers shooed us away; they had some important luxuriating to get to that we were delaying.

Socks grumbled that of course “that miserable Spoon” gave him a cursed fish slice. “I don’t know why I took the deal,” he said. “I don’t have any use for this thing. I’m a vegetarian.”

Finally he asked what we were offering, we told him a favor from you and explained how it was we were qualified to offer such a thing. He said the offer was acceptable and we took home the fish slice.

To sum up: Socks MacPherson is protected by the Seelie Court but didn’t blink at accepting a favor from the Unseelie Court. The Queen remains suspicious, both in the sense that she suspected us and in the sense that her behavior was itself weird. The Seelie Court is definitely hiding something, given how relieved the Queen was the minute she realized we weren’t going to actually leave the throne room and enter the court to look around. I have a feeling, based on nothing really — that it’s not a something but a someone that they’re concealing—if it was an object surely they could just hide it somewhere we wouldn’t see it? But, it’s just a feeling.

So that’s it. My deepest gratitude to you, as always, for all your help. I’m sure you were anticipating more information than the above, but hopefully it will be of some use to you.

Our love to Mark and Cristina, and to you of course. And above all, glory to Kraig.

Julian

#sobh #secrets of blackthorn hall #phouka #Julian Blackthorn #Kieran Kingson #Socks McPherson #Seelie Queen #Glory to Kraig #Ghost Sensor

[micamicster]

ma'am the people want to hear your blocking thoughts it's not something i really paid attention to but then when you mentioned it I can see how that's part of what gives letterkenny it's letterkenny vibes? anyway THOUGHTS

omg SO. okay. I am not the best person to discuss this (i know very little about cinematography and the terms etc that should be used to talk about this) but i am happy to give my thoughts!

So the video that prompted this question is a great example of it,

Just the way that wayne, like, pops up from behind that wooden structure to say his line is hysterical. The screenshots don't do it justice

here are a couple more just from like, the first 2 episodes of the show.

Letterkenny tends to pose its cast in tableau, where everyone sits in the exact same position every time and their shots are very static--they have everyone run their dialogue/bit without much movement from the established positions. I think this is likely a product of this show starting out as an incredibly low budget youtube series that these guys were filming themselves. You would set up the camera to get everyone in the shot, do the scene, move the camera. But from the very beginning they're using these static shots as part of the humor of the series, by framing the characters in unexpected or unnatural ways. (A big favorite of the series is the shot that unexpectedly cuts off the character's face and tbh it cracks me up every time like look at these!)

Even early on, this sort of attention to detail added to the shows appeal. It's evolved over the seasons into its own visual language, that they've kept even as the show's budget increased.

I think it adds to the humor of the show, and it also helps establish the small town repetitiveness of it? Like every time they have a scene at the produce stand, the characters sit in their produce-stand-positions. It really drives home how they do the exact same things every day with the exact same people. The conversations vary, the setting is identical.

Now for an even more meta take on it, I think this stiff and unexpected framing/blocking is related to our stiff and unexpected protaganist. Wayne (jared keeso you're SO fucking funny) always stands the exact same way, he moves very abruptly from one specific pose to another, he always holds the telephone the exact same way, he has specific and repetitive motions he always does in the same order, he's our autistic king and he's the toughest guy in letterkenny! The framing and blocking mimic his body movements, making us view the whole show from his perspective, inside his world. It's so fun <3

look at that center framing wes anderson who?

#thank you for asking! #this was so fun to talk about! #im really not caught up on this show at all but it is SO much fun highly recommend to everyone #at this point just google a 'funniest episodes of' list and go crazy #or start from the beginning that works too <3 #letterkenny

[piratefishmama]

For One Night Only | Part 3

“Steve?!”

“Nance!” The reunion was abrupt, two bodies colliding in the middle of the room amidst makeup artists and stylists in a tight hug that wound up with Steve being lifted off of the floor by little miss badass herself, Nancy Wheeler. “Jeez! Hitting the gym much?” He laughed as she set his whole 5’10 stocky mass back down on the carpet.

“Only on the weekends, running around after these idiots is great cardio, keeps me in tip top shape, what’re you doing here?”

“Munson needed a date to this fancy award thing, I got the invite, you know me, love being pampered and showered with attention. I thought you and Barb were in Cali with the Byers?” Even though she and Jonathan weren't dating anymore, both realising they found their best friends way more compatible with themselves than each other, they still had plenty of love for each other, enough to spend a week just getting baked on the beach together once every few months.

“That’s next month after the events season is up, still running ragged this month. These lot have got radio shows tomorrow afternoon and evening, and they’re invited to a premier next weekend for something that used one of their songs in the soundtrack, it’s… hectic. God it’s been…what—”

“Few years since face to face" they'd kept up the catch up phone calls though, their "babies first love" hadn't worked out but they made excellent friends. "You look good Nance…”

“I feel good… less stressed. Weirdly enough.” She didn’t have to deal with asshole bosses and sexism in the workplace, she just had to deal with nerds, and the nerds respected her. “Did Eddie tell you about the whole journalism thing?”

“That you finally told them to go suck several severely unwashed dicks? Not in those exact words but I’m proud of you Nance, I know it’s what you wanted to do but—”

“Sometimes we don’t know what we want until we’ve tried it and it sucks. Barb walked out with me flipping the whole office off, it was glorious.” She finished as he nodded, smiling brightly at the knowledge that Barb had stuck by her in that too, because of course she had, when had Barb ever not stuck by her? “So I see this whole thing is still working out nicely for you” She motioned to the entirety of him as he flourished his hands in a tadah motion. “You look good, it’s a good look on you, this job.” He got paid handsomely for doing something he genuinely enjoyed, he dressed well, he smelled good, he looked like he was worth a lot of money.

“Not to parrot you but, god Nance I feel good too, I’ve been seeing this funny old woman lately, she’s hilarious and her cookie recipe is to die for, if you ever get a moment, you should come with me one day she’ll talk your ear off about the most ridiculous shit.” He adored Gladys, she deserved the world, she was a welcome switch up to the occasional sexual hire he’d get, some people needed a damn good release, others needed to just talk to someone who’d listen.

He enjoyed both kinds of people.

“Okay so is someone going to explain what the hell Steve Harrington is doing in our room?” Gareth finally decided to break the baffled silence that’d fallen over the rest of the Corroded Coffin members as Nancy and Steve caught up like little old ladies meeting for a senior special at the local cafe.

“He’s my date!” Eddie chirped, tone dripping in smug with a grin to match. He’d parked his rear back into his own chair, allowing the stylists they hired to fuss a little more over his hair.

“No really.” Gareth deadpanned “What’s Steve Harrington doing in our room?”

“I just told you!” Eddie squawked indignantly, almost offended at how little Gareth believed in him. “I hired him, yes, but he’s still my date.”

Steve smiled and stepped forward in his defence though, “No he’s right… I am his date for the evening, and I really hope I can start fresh with you guys too, I know I wasn’t the best person in Hawkins, I don’t remember much of it, my memory isn’t great, but Eddie tells me I let some shit happen that I definitely should have put a stop to—” Tommy pushing Jeff into a locker, for example “so, i’m sorry for everything, I am, truly, I really hope you can forgive me.” The last thing he wanted was a tense night around the band.

He wanted to get along with them, not just for the sake of his job, but also because he actually was hitting it off with Eddie, he liked Eddie, Eddie was sweet, and prettier than he remembered any boy in Hawkins ever being.

That being said he really didn’t remember much.

“Okay so. It looks like Steve Harrington, it has Steve Harrington’s voice, and yet it says magical things that couldn’t possibly come from Steve Harringt-ow!” Eddie, thankfully the closest sat next to him, thumped Jeff in the arm “what the hell man?”

“We’re not dumb kids anymore, dude. Everyone’s grown here. Let’s keep the past where it belongs, yeah?”

“Would you say the same shit about Hargrove too?” Now Steve did remember Billy Hargrove, hard to forget a man like Hargrove, giant douchebag, hadn’t thought about him in years though, had no idea where he ended up and didn’t care to think about it. Just knew Nancy’s brother Mike was friends with the guys sister, Max.

Steve actually found himself frowning deeply at the idea that they associated the memory of high school him with Hargrove of all people.

“Ew no, but Steve never actually physically did anything to you, he just kinda… watched it happen, and he only did that once, sure it was still shitty but it ain’t the same and you know it ain’t the same.”

“Listen… I don’t expect forgiveness after a single apology out of nowhere, I didn’t reach out and I don’t even remember what happened, it’s all by sheer coincidence that I’m even here with the opportunity to apologise, but I do have a job to do here, and I intend to do it so I’d really appreciate it if we could at least put that past behind us for tonight, and if you want to hold a grudge, just save it for after the cameras finish rolling, okay? Not for my sake, but for your own. Do you really want the press to spin some bullshit Yoko story about how your front man is spending time with a guy you all hate? How it’s pulling you apart?”

The big one was the first to speak after that, Steve couldn’t remember his name either, but he knew it began with Fr… His brain supplied ‘Freak’ but that probably wasn’t it. “You know about Yoko?”

“I don’t live under a rock.”

“Nah just in a fancy penthouse apartment with a bitchy little Pomeranian and a walkin closet bigger than… than… uh— okay I was gonna say my apartment but I’m rich now so—” Eddie sniggered as Jeff floundered trying to be witty.

“First of all, I have a cat, her name is Mocha and she’s a queen” a severely pampered colourpoint ragdoll currently being fawned over by her usual cat sitters Robin and Vickie “and second this job requires a walk in closet bigger than some houses, do you think a rich client wants to see the same outfit twice? Man I have a whole section dedicated solely to lingerie.” Eddie nearly choked on his own saliva.

Steve in lingerie Steve in lingerie Steve in lingerie Steve in lingerie Steve in lingerie— shit he was still talking.

“Now, are we going to get our stories straight, or are we going to continue wasting time discussing my adolescent character flaws?”

Gareth finally piped up “Man, do you really have a whole closet section dedicated to lingerie?” And Steve just sighed.

#For One Night Only #PirateWrites #ficlet #Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson #Corroded Coffin #yes. yes he does have a whole closet section dedicated to that #BARB LIVES

[just-sp-in-inginthevoid]

Okay so I watched ep 1 from season 3 (maybe I'm late maybe im not idk) and I'll post my react/thoughts soon but before that:

SEASON 3 OPENING

/!\ I'm a manga reader and I finished the manga; anime only beware of spoilers/!\

First of all, they need to stop with that. They know exactly what they're doing and my heart can't take it.

WHAT DID I JUST SAID.

Kakucho watching as Izana slips away.. *muffled screams*

Koko being beat up while the other aren't made me laughed - ofc i know the context but like. It's funny. Also – a wild Sanzu appears! I wonder how many anime only paid attention to Mucho/remember him and how many are going to notice him here and go 'wait a minute. You're not supposed to be here.'

... ngl, there are a lot of moments in that op where my thoughts were 'you BASTARDS you did NOT DARE'

That's one of them. Mikey reaching for young Izana, Izana leaving? Mikey reaching for another life for one they could've have? And then the transition to Manila Mikey lying dead in Takemichi's arms?

The fact it's the timeline where he got to live with Izana? Where they got to have a relationship? Where Mikey succeeded to reach for Izana in some ways?

1. Koko 2. Death bed = we know who 3. House 4. The fire.

They must have felt sooooo smug thinking about doing that

Just kill me at this point

#tokyo revengers #tok rev #tr #tokrev #tr spoilers #tokrev spoilers #tokyo revengers spoilers #tr season 3 #tokrev season 3 #tokyo revengers season 3

[euphoricimagination]

Secret Santa

It's Christmas Eve in my country, so i thought of doing a Christmas special with my 2 favorites Haikyuu characters. Merry Xmas!!

Sakusa

If there’s something that Sakusa dreads about Christmas season, apart from the cold, is whenever someone wants to do a secret Santa, and when he had to participate in it. Whenever his family or his high school team wanted to do it he groaned in frustration; he just never knew what to give others, always ended up in awkward situations because of them.

Once he entered the Jackals he thought he will be completely free of them, and it would have been that way if only Hinata had stay quiet.

“So who did ya got Omi-omi?” Atsumu ask him once in their locker room

“It’s call secret Santa for a reason, Miya, is a secret” he rolls his eyes ignoring the nickname that Miya keeps using. In his pocket he has the paper that he picked with your name on it, carefully folded to keep it safe. You had been the first person he got close to once entering the team, you were witty and patient, were able to calm Bokuto and Hinata down, keep Miya in lane; he, surprisingly, feels way too comfortable with you around.

“C’mon! Is no fun without telling others! Unless ya got me?!!”

“Thank god you aren’t. Now move, I’m leaving” he says moving away from the blonde one. Despite having a week to buy your present he was already trying to think what to give you. He remembers you mentioning a speaker that you saw, some hair treatment you read about, a book that you been wanting to buy. His mind was so busy that he didn’t see you in front of him.

“Hey Omi-kun, what’s wrong?” you ask

“Eh? Nothing”

“Suure, it’s just weird that you don’t pay to your surroundings” you add with a chuckle. He glares at you softly, not actually trying to intimidate you. He noticed that you were wearing a different lipstick, how did he knew you it was different? He didn’t know, but he did notice the difference “I like your lipstick”

“Thanks! I really like this one, I literally put it in the morning and it hasn’t move at all!” you said excitedly as you show him the product, he looks at the brand and quickly tries to remember it as both of you go out of the gym.

He has an idea now.

The week pass fast and soon enough everyone was gathering around to do the secret Santa thing on Christmas Eve. He wasn’t really paying attention, he would rather be anywhere else than hearing Atsumu rumble about the shoes that Hinata gift him. The only time he paid attention was when it was your time to give Bokuto his gift, he liked watching your reactions.

“Sakusa-san, is your turn” Hinata calls him, making him finally pay attention. He takes the big box he had behind his back, goes to the center of the group with what most will call an annoyed expression (he glares at Miya when he said to be excited) “My secret Santa is Yn”

“Me?” you stand up going beside him, which made his stomach twirl in a funny way. You look at the big box in between his hand, frowning in confusion “What the hell is this Omi? Why is it so big?”

“Just open it and find out” he says shortly, pulling his mask as he feels his face start to go red. You break the wrap off and find the many packs of the lipstick that you said you liked, in all the different colors they had

“Omi! You didn’t seriously buy all of this for me?”

“You say you liked it, of course I’ll buy them for you” he looks away, noticing his teammates smirks

“Omi-Omi, ya knew that the maximum was 15000 ¥, right?” Atsumu asks “would ya have spend that much if it was any of us?”

“Shut up Miya” he says blushing even more, he had completely forgotten about the money limit, the only thought on his head was to make you happy

“Leave him alone Tsum. Thank you Omi, you’re amazing” you hug him by the waist, and even though he tense up once he felt your arms, he didn’t take them of him “Are we done now? Is there anyone else left?” You ask still comfortably hugging him

“Yeah, we’re all set, so we all going to go now, right boys?” answers Meian making the team quickly taking their things and leaving, the fastest that you’ve ever seen them leave the place

“Anyways” you chuckle “do you want to go an eat something together? Unless you have something planned for Christmas Eve, of course”

“Sure, let’s go. I wanted to spend this evening with you anyway” he says without processing the words that came out of his mouth, quickly realizing the mistake “I mean, eh…I”

“Let’s go then” you smile taking his hand and pulling him out of the gym “I wanted to spend today with you too”

Kenma

The Nekoma team, for the first time ever, was having a Secret Santa for Christmas. In the many years that Nekomata has been in the school he never seen the teams do something like this; but then again, this team was much closer than the previous ones, mainly because of Kuroo, who clearly was the most excited.

Kenma, on the other hand, had mix emotions. He chose you as your secret Santa, but he didn’t knew if he should feel excited because of that, nervous because of you, annoyed at Kuroo for even suggesting this activity, or confused because of what to give you.

He wasn’t particularly sure as of why he was feeling this way towards you; he got to know you a lot better ever since you became the manager of the team, and admittedly he liked you better than all of his teammates, but he doesn’t understand the weird twists his stomach does lately whenever you were close to him.

However, he was extremely suspicious about Kuroo when he easily guess that he got you, almost as if he had plan to help him get you a gift from the beginning. But who was he to deny help when his friend seem so excited to help him?

He knew that you liked similar games than him, and even though you weren’t particularly amazing at them, you liked seeing him play; but Kuroo had other plans for his gift despite him not being your secret santa. He made him walk around the whole mall, showing him from necklaces to flowers, claiming that it has to be ‘romantic’ for some reason.

He was walking through the games section while Kuroo was buying his own gift when he saw it. A huge cat plushie. An while it was on the more expensive side, but something was calling him to buy it for you.

(Once Kuroo saw his best friend struggling to walk with he plush he burst out laughing, he knew that Kenma was whipped but not to this extend)

Finally the day of the exchange arrived, but Kenma being himself, decided to ignore everything Kuroo say about waiting until the end of practice.

“Yn, can you come with me for a sec?” he quietly ask you once break started

“Of course Ken, are you okay? You’re quite red” you ask him while walking outside, taking his hand to stop him and pressing your free one in his forehead “you don’t have any fever”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine” he looks away from your eyes, holding your hand tighter as he guides you to the gym. He doesn’t look at you the whole way there, effectively ignoring your confused expression “can you close your eyes for a second? I need to go and get it”

“Sure, but what is it? Secret Santa shouldn’t be until later”

“Don’t worry about it, just close your eyes”

“Fine, fine, I’ll do it” you close your eyes as he walks towards the changing room where the plush was waiting with a bow (which the team teased him for once they saw it). He struggled to get it out, putting it right in front of you once he did

“You can open them” he says out of breath. He sees you open your eyes, which go wide at the sight of the gift, making him go into a slight panic “I’m your secret Santa, this was very expensive so you better like it”

“Ken, this is so pretty” you say in awe, quickly going towards him and giving him a hug. It took him by surprise in the beginning, but he quickly hugs you back with a smile appearing, his heart beating faster than in any game he ever played “You’re so amazing, Kenma”

You kiss his cheek after saying that a bunch of emotions appearing in his body. He finally realized that you were more than a mere friend thanks to that kiss; how did he not notice while he was buying the expensive plush? He doesn’t know, but better late than never.

Sadly, he couldn’t escape the teasing from the rest of the team, especially since you made sure to brag about it and hug it whenever you could (which despite the embarrassment he was glad he saw you so happy).

Sure, he got made fun of that day, but he couldn’t care less since he finally ended up with you.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyuu fluff #hq x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #hq imagines #haikyuu!! #haikyuu #hq #sakusa imagines #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa kiyoomi fluff #sakusa fluff #sakusa x y/n #sakusa x you #sakusa x reader #sakusa scenarios #sakusa headcanons #sakusa hcs #msby sakusa #kenma haikyuu #kenma x you #kenma x y/n #kenma x reader #kenma fluff #kenma scenario #kenma hcs #kenma headcanons #kenma kozume x reader

[batjokezlovineverything]

Fan Cah Montemór shared images of her meeting with Dacre and shared their conversation! The text was originally in Portuguese, so this is a rough English translation!

Well, my first interaction with him was at the meet. I was the first to ask a question. It was about why Billy and Max moved to Hawkins, in which he replied, that Billy's father wanted to stay away from where Billy's mother was from. At that time, while the moderator translated the answer to the people, he realized that I was wearing Billy's T-Shirt and then pointed to my T-Shirt, waved, and blew me a kiss. I don't know how I didn't sit down and cried at the time but I asked another question - speaking about the comparision between Billy and Will (the two if he thought that if someone before Eleven had realized what was going on inside Billy and Max's house, could've made Billy a better person and had a different ending than what we saw) in which replied, that's for sure. That if Billy had the same support as Will, things would have been different. Someone also asked about Billy and Max's relationship. He said that in between Season 2 and 3, he thinks that the two were at a level where they were okay with each other and that if Billy didn't die - he and Max could've had a great relationship, like siblings. Then, it was time for our photo. I went in and he already opened the biggest smile and the first thing he did was thanking me for the questions I asked, which he loved very much. I told him that I have been his fan for years and have waited for this opportunity for a long time. I said I had his poetry book for the autograph and everything, so I asked if we could make funny faces in the photo and he chose which one to do. Then, I asked for a hug and he's already been hugging me. During the autograph session, I went in and showed the book and he was signing it. We talked about some things in the meantime and I delivered a letter to him and he was happy, saying that he would definitely read. He thanked me about 3 times for going to see him and I thanked him for coming to Brazil. I told him to take advantage of stadia here and that was out interactions! I'm like this speechless because he was 100% attentive, a loving person. He looked me in the eye at ALL times and paid attention to what I was saying. He was an angel. He certainly realized the affected I had for both him and his work, but also for Billy, which made him very happy. I hope he keeps this experience with a lot of affection too because I sure am!

#dacre montgomery #dacre montgomery x reader #dacre montgomery fan #billy hargrove #billy hargrove lover #stranger things #stranger things s4 #comic con #translation

[diamonddogs-terrarium]

Llorumi Ramble

What’s really funny about how much I adore Llorumi, considering I’ve been fixated on it for about a year now, is that originally I wasn’t a fan of the ship. 

When I was watching the show for the first time I paid little mind to Lloyd and Harumi’s relationship. Especially in the first half of S8, like “woa so lame... goodie two shoes girl...whatevah…” and even after the reveal I didn’t have any strong opinions. I thought it was a neat dynamic but didn’t really think much of it after Harumi’s death. I thought that was it for their story and Harumi would just be another villain to be, eventually, forgotten about.

But then, I watched “Stop, Drop and Side Scroll” and gosh, the dialogue between Lloyd and what he perceives to be Harumi really captured my attention. The slight stutter when Lloyd first saw the fake Harumi, the way he hesitated to attack her, and how in the end he did technically win the fight…but he still got cubed. 

Of course I eventually reached Crystallized. I was elated at Harumi’s reveal, especially with the payoff of all her mentions between S11 to S13. And holy shit, the reveal that Lloyd went and searched for her corpse had me pacing around my room like a trapped animal LOL. Along with how it’s implied Harumi didn’t die on impact from the fall… and how that adds a lot of angsty context to some of (fake) Harumi's dialogue in “Stop, Drop and Side Scroll”. I kinda want to save the discussion of that for another post though haha. 

Crystallized kind of took a turn for the worst in terms of general story quality pretty quickly after Pt. 1 unfortunately. The storylines were stacking, and there just wasn’t enough time to wrap up Harumi’s redemption, Lloyd’s Oni side, and address their relationship before the season ended. But the pieces were there: Harumi hesitating when she considers just for a moment if they could be better. Lloyd struggles with his rage, and being forced to accept that side of himself as who he is. As someone who struggled with anger issues, it was comforting to see Lloyd conflict with that side of himself. And the brief hand holding at the end of “Roots”, a brief callback to what you might’ve seen between them in early S8. Crystallized failed to do a lot, but I could appreciate what we got out of the season. 

In my little sandbox, these two characters are so fun to play with. For the past year I’ve been brewing a post-crystallized AU (with the help of a few friends!) that attempts to address a few of the issues I’ve mentioned earlier. Along with that, I actually started drawing people and humans in general so I could create content for the ship and my art has improved greatly from 2 years ago. I love creating stories, headcanons, and artwork for these silly LEGO people. Heck, I even made a ship playlist for them that I listen to daily. I just think they're so neat.

TLDR: I’ve never been this insane about a ship before and they mean so so much to me. And I love the stuff I make about them. Live, laugh, love, llorumi.

#llorumi #ninjago llorumi

[seriouslycromulent]

I noticed a few people sharing excerpts from this new interview from Christian that came out on July 6th on TVInsider.com, but most fans aren't sharing the part I found most interesting. So I thought I'd share the part I thought deserved more attention. Note: the bold purple sections are my emphasis, not the article's.

----

Speaking of his father, talk about finally getting to explore that relationship with his dad. Because you and Keith David were so good together.

Well, it’s really funny because we had come up with this idea literally in the first season. We always thought it would be funny if Eliot was adopted because Dean loves — we’re all broken toys, you know what I mean? And I think why you rooted for it so hard right off the bat is because we’re all broken toys and we’re looking to get fixed. And so we were always thinking that Eliot was adopted, his mom had probably passed. But we thought it’d be really great if we had a Black actor come in and play this role. We thought Hardison’s [Aldis Hodge] eyes would just bug out if he ever saw that, you know what I mean? And the years went by and the years went by and we kept it. I kept it as a backstory and I’d always bring it up.

I was talking about maybe Mr. T, something like that, which would’ve been fun. But I saw Keith David at an award show, and I walked up to him, I said, “Do you have a second?” And he goes, “You!” And I was like, “What?” And I just gave him a hug and I didn’t even realize what was going on. We just both ended up hugging each other. And I said, “I just want to tell you what a huge fan I am.” He goes, “Dude, I’m a huge fan.” Turns out he is a huge Leverage fan. And I couldn’t say much about it at the time, but I said, “Dude, I have something for you. I cannot tell you what it is, but if I call you, would you be interested?” He said, “Call me.”

So me and Dean hashed it out. We talked about it. The storyline was absolutely perfect. Dean wrote it. It was great. Dean directed it. And I made the call, and listen, is he worth more money than we paid him? 100 percent. But he came in and he did me a favor, and I couldn’t thank him enough the whole time. I said, “I’ve been working on this backstory in my head for over 10 years, man, way over 10 years. And you came in and just put everything together for me, man. And it was just perfect.”

It was so much fun because a lot of that emotional stuff, my dad had recently passed, and I wasn’t going to get that emotional when I saw him, but he got emotional, and everybody thought that it was because of my dad. It really honestly wasn’t. It was because I was acting with him and he was giving me what I needed, and I really wanted to show Eliot in such a different light that we had never seen him. It was important to me, and it was strange. I was literally embarrassed on set because of the emotions that we had, which was right on the money of what I wanted to do.

And it made for such a great episode.

Yeah. I mean, if it’s Christian Kane, I’m giving Keith David a hug, I’ll probably tear up a little bit right now. I don’t care about that crap. But as playing a character, as Eliot, when I turned around to them, I was literally embarrassed. And I just thought, if I’m embarrassed right now, that means I did it right.

----

This is easily the most fascinating section of the interview in my opinion, and I'm so glad that he shared it. I saw his post on Instagram talking about this a little while back in December 2022, but it was nice to see a longer version with more details about how that episode and concept came together.

I didn't know Chris' dad had passed away, and even though he said that wasn't why he started crying in that scene, it makes that moment seem even more powerful to me as a fan of the show, the character and the actor.

#leverage #leverage: redemption #fandom #christian kane #eliot spencer

[thebuttsmcgee]

Okay! I've missed out on talking about the past few episodes but the show quite literally finished today as far as we know so it's a good as time as any I suppose to talk!

So yep. Spoilers for The Ghost and Molly Mcgee's possible series finale below!

So! To start off, Jinx vs the human world!

It was alright! Had good moments, bit of a lacking song near the end but the VILLAIN SONG? pretty damn good! Rob Cantor knows how to make a villain song and make them GOOD good. The rest wasn't bad, I liked Molly gaining her power from any kinda positivity, which is boosted by good talk of her forever friend, the Chen family scenes (well, besides that kinda. strange. scene about Mrs Chen asking ollie about kids but disregarding that) were really good!

There had been some light speculation about Geoff being the one who spooked Ruben as a kid but it was mostly in humor, so that ending up being true was neat! Definitely funny but also neat. It was also nice to see more of the Chen family coming to terms with actual ghost stuff and Ruben learning to chill with the ghost hate.

Jinx was a fun villain! Her VA did an amazing job as always! She stole the show in nearly every scene she was in and it was cool to see a ghost actually try to go up against the human world, as the title would suggest. She did go out in a pretty cheesey way but eh I don't really think it was bad, the show's based on friendship anyway.

The overall plot wasn't bad, it took Molly outta the picture for most of it but ya know I guess I do get why. At least it was in an actually reasonable way, by the villain actually being competent. It was cool to see how Ghosts are kinda invincible, but especially with the Chairman's robe, the og Chairman was a good showcase of that terrifying power but was cut short, meanwhile Scratch wasn't really all that a good showcase cause it's just Scratch, who iiiiis lazy lol.

It all felt kinda. Safe. If that makes sense. Like there wasn't really a moment where I felt in suspense. It was still enjoyable mostly, but I didn't really feel myself getting too worried about what could happen.

So yea, like a 6 or 7 outta 10 from me 👍.

Now! For the finale!!! WOO

THAT WAS AN 8 OR 9 BABEY!

I'll be honest, a good amount of S2 hasn't been as good as S1 for me. When S2 is good, it's REALLY good like 100% Molly or All in the Mind or Faint of Art. It's just that S1 was just SO good, some of S2 falls flat to me.

That said, The End felt like a season 1 episode to me cause THAT was sooooo good.

I felt actual stuff with most of the scenes, I was actually getting worried while Moll called Adia, I did wanna shed a tear when the truth hit Scratch and they used the exact same line read in Episode 1 when Moll had called Scratch to come back when he ran away MAN IT WAS ALL SO GOOD.

And the songs. MAN. The first one was good, a banger but nothing too extravagant, even if it's about being extravagant. Scratch's song tho? THAT SONG? ABSOLUTELY LOVE. That fucking hit me so hard, I legitimately wanted to cry a bit cause the lyrics, the delivery, the instrumentals, it was all so damn good! And the ending credits song being something that calls back to the usual end credits' theme, man that was so fucking good.

Here comes the heavy truth!

So the most popular theory ended up being true. Scratch is indeed, the Wraith of Todd, the background character who had small resemblances to Scratch.

Honestly I'm not too sure how to feel about it. It wasn't exactly shoved in our faces and wasn't quite hinted at, all that much unless you reaaaally paid attention to certain things. It wasn't completely outta nowhere, but also it did feel a bit, ehhh. The execution of it all was just superb tho, the voice deliveries, the animation, all of it was so well done. So I'm not entirely sure how to feel about it right now, other than the fact they executed it really well.

The whole scene with Moll and Scratch talking about what could happen when Todd is alive again, man. That hit. It hit good. That actually made me feel more nervousness than most of the previous episodes. Man what can I say. They just nailed it.

And the ultimate ending, with Todd having the personality of Scratch and his little quirks, yet supposedly not retaining his memories from when he wasn't in his human body. I say supposedly, cause tbh? His callbacks felt a bit on the nose, almost exactly like how Scratch would be when he was messing with Molly. He is a trickster at heart after all.

Can't say for sure if he doesn't or does remember cause who knows! Maybe he doesn't, maybe he does. For now tho, it seems as tho he doesn't.

And tbh, I still enjoy it.

Is it bittersweet? Yes. Extremely melancholic? YES. But it's done so well. It didn't feel underwhelming, it felt sad yet done so in the right way.

Everyone trying their best to get him to remember got me ngl lol that was. That was sad man.

Also I saw the Bill and Bob's ok adventure book I see yall tgamm crew.

Todd leaves to see the world and see Adia. Leaving Brighton, and Scratch's new family behind. Again, really bittersweet but done right. Todd is happy to live, and so is everyone else for him.

What a good ending. Bittersweet to a T.

Yes. Yes indeed a 9 for me!

Now as most of us know S3 might not happen. Who knows due to what, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't cause of fan demand, cause I'm p sure there was a lotta that for this show. And this was a fairly good way to send off the show! It had a pretty good run and it was usually up there with BCG, TOH and amphibia when discussing disney channel shows thatve come these past years, and for good reason.

I'll be honest. I'm kinda already missing it. I remember fondly of watching it for the first time and the next episodes, especially when it had aired near my nephews birthday and I had been wrapping his presents. I still enjoy listening to the few podcast talks and whatnot the crew have done for the show. It feels so. Sad. To know we'll probably never get a continuation of anything from this show. Not even a book. But all good things as they say.

If they do continue it tho, I wonder how it'd go. Probably trying to convince Todd to remember who he is and was, his time as a Wraith and as a Mcgee.

But who knows! All I can say is, thank you The Ghost and Molly Mcgee. It's been great. Really. Thank you all.

Love yall ❤️✌️

#The Ghost and Molly Mcgee #The Ghost and Molly Mcgee spoilers #TGAMM #tgamm spoilers #man. end of an era guys. #well BCG is still going thankfully but yknow. man.