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povlnfour · 4 months

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ੈ✩‧₊˚ TALES OF CANDOR (LN4)

pairing: lando norris x f!author!reader

summary: lando’s girlfriend has a secret identity. she’s not quite the girl next door everyone assumed, and he might just be the inspiration for more than just her instagram captions.

warnings: some hate comments

* faceclaim: mélanie, aka wailcester on ig (please imagine her as you see fit)

ੈ✩‧₊˚ landonorris just posted a photo

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landonorris some days @ home

👤 tagged yourusername

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user i hope ur enjoying ur time off!

user no hate but like what does his gf actually do?

user literally nothing she’s jobless💀

user it’s giving🏅👷‍♀️

user lando i love u but half naked pics of ur girl isn’t helping how much we dislike her…

user what’s she reading!!!

yourusername a thousand splendid suns by khaled hosseini!!

user ofc u are. i totally believe u acc read well written books. u probably just read gossip columns but want to seem interesting🙄

ੈ✩‧₊˚ musingsofcandor just posted a photo

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musingsofcandor biscuit approves of the final draft🤍

👤 tagged acatcalledbiscuit

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user HELLO??? CANDOR DOES THIS MEAN WE R GETTING A NEW BOOK

user i love that we know more abt candy’s cat than we do her…

user can’t wait to read it🥹🥹

rickriordan has to be my favorite thing you’ve written!

user RICK’S READ IT??? OH YOU KNOW ITS GOOD

user lando norris in the likes he’s just like all of us fr

ੈ✩‧₊˚ yourusername just posted a photo

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yourusername ‘when she finally got the camera film developed, seeing his face made it all come rushing back’🦋🫧🧚🏻

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user im sorry i know we r meant to be supportive but she annoys me sm. is she just living off of lando’s money?

user omg the caption!!!

user i recognise it, where’s it from?

user it’s from ‘tales of peter rourke’ by candor!!!

user 🤢

user we get it… ur dating someone rich. now get a job!

ੈ✩‧₊˚ mclaren interview

[captions:

interviewer: what have you been up to in your break?

lando: a lot of lounging around with my girlfriend. read a few books too!

interviewer: anything good?

lando: i’m really into magical reality at the moment! that kind of it’s all normal till it’s not stuff, you know?

interviewer: any good recommendations?

lando: if you like that same genre, i recommend ‘the right side of upside’ by candor! it’s pretty recent, i finished it last week.]

comments

user he likes candor??? he’s so real for that

user KNEW I COULD TRUST HIM

user bad taste in women good taste in books

ੈ✩‧₊˚ musingsofcandor just posted a photo

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musingsofcandor thank you for all the love lately on ‘the right side of upside’. insane seeing so many of you recommend it, biscuit and i are eternally grateful. love, candy🤍

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user QUEEN DID YOU SEE LANDO RECOMMENDED IT

user CANDY HAS A MAN???

user love u forever ur so talented

user CANT WAIT TO SEE WHAT YOU DO NEXT. CANT BELIEVE WE HAVE TO WAIT NOW

musingsofcandor it might be sooner than you think ;)

user UM. candor is this a soft launch?????

ੈ✩‧₊˚ landonorris just posted a photo

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landonorris got some super helpful race advice today

👤 tagged acatnamedbiscuit, musingsofcandor

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user OH MY GOD MY WORLDS ARE COLLIDING

user LANDO WE NEED TO KNOW EVERYTHING IS SHE CUTE I FEEL LIKE SHES CUTE

user break up w ur gf and date candor when

musingsofcandor biscuit says he can’t be held responsible for the outcome🐾

landonorris can i hold you responsible instead, candy?

user UHHHH WHATS GOING ON HERE

user i just know y/n is feeling THREATENED

ੈ✩‧₊˚ yourusername just posted a photo

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yourusername all mine

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user LMAOOO U STARTED SWEATING HUH

user candor could steal ur man if she really wanted to

user GIRL YOU’RE SO OBVIOUS

landonorris yours🖤

user STOP LYINGGGG

ੈ✩‧₊˚ an exclusive interview with candor : entertainment weekly

interviewer: so candor! tell us how it really feels having the world at your feet!

candor: [laughing] honestly quite normal! it’s a blessing and a curse, really, not having my identity revealed. i get to live my life without those pressures, but i don’t get to see anyone and thank them for reading!

interviewer: do you ever get the urge to approach someone reading one of your books?

candor: all the time! whenever i go browsing in book stores and see someone looking at or buying mine, i have such a temptation to scream THANK YOU at them!

interviewer: do you see a future in which you reveal your identity?

candor: maybe! there are a few of my fans who know who i am, those who attend the secret events and signings, but i’m very lucky that they all respect my privacy and haven’t shared anything further. perhaps one day soon i’ll finally let everyone in on the secret.

interviewer: and we can’t talk to you and not bring up your cat — or rather, who your cat met the other day…?

candor: oh! i’m assuming you mean lando norris? yes! he’s a pretty good friend of mine, he’s been a big support over the last few years and we found some time in our schedules last week to meet up.

interviewer: so you’re a formula 1 fan?

candor: huge fan! i’m a big mclaren girl so lando and i met through their events!

interviewer: oh fantastic! see folks reading this, she really is just like us!

ੈ✩‧₊˚ yourusername just posted a photo

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yourusername cars going vroom vroom makes my heart go boom boom

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user lmao posting before and after candor’s interview. girl ur not subtle.

user im so sorry but ur clearly so threatened it’s hilarious

user i don’t get all the hate in here??? she’s just in love n happy?

user shes a gold digger

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ੈ✩‧₊˚ musingsofcandor just posted a photo

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musingsofcandor told you it wouldn’t be long🫧 ‘thomasin jeffe, the cat, and the diplomat’ will be with you next friday. a lot of love poured into this one over the past few years, i just couldn’t wait any longer to give it to you🤍

already a member on my website? check your emails🦋

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user WHDHSJSJSJSJS

user OH MY GOD ITS HAPPENING

user THE EMAILLLLL🥹

user candy omg where do you live that looks so pretty!!!!

musingsofcandor monaco !!

landonorris 🖤

user lando using the black heart and candor using the white… i’m sorry to his gf (not really) but they’re meant to be

ੈ✩‧₊˚ user just posted a photo

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user the best day of my life!!! thank you so much candor for being the absolute sweetest human and taking time to talk to each and every one of us! i cannot wait to read thomasin jeffe, the cat, and the diplomat🥹🤍

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user YOU MET HERRRRE???

user WHO IS SHE TELL TELL TELL

user candor asks us not to share her identity so i’m gonna respect that but LET ME TELL YOU I WAS SHOCKED

user i recognise her from just that inch of her face but i can’t tell whERE FROM

musingsofcandor it was WONDERFUL to meet you! i hope you enjoy the story🤍

user wish people on twitter were as kind as this,,, there’s photos of her going around :/

ੈ✩‧₊˚ f1wags just posted a photo

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f1wags the internet has been in PIECES after famous author candor’s recent book signing. photos have emerged of the popular anonymous author from the event, revealing her to be none other than LANDO NORRIS’ GIRLFRIEND, Y/N! turns out, she has a job after all👀 (pictures taken from y/n’s instagram!)

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user i… cannot believe this

user see. when y’all were hating on her you were secretly worshipping her

user @ everyone who was an arse to y/n… KARMA IS A BITCH!

user WHAT????

user HOLY SHIT LANDO HAS BEEN DATING MY FAV AUTHOR THIS WHOLE TIME????

ੈ✩‧₊˚ yourusername just posted a photo

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yourusername well. the secrets out. it’s been a long few years, but it’s nice to not have to hold it in any more.

both my accounts will remain active for separate purposes, but i’m excited to be able to introduce you to candor as she is in her whole truth — just like her name suggests🤍

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user ironically this is exactly how i picture marian elsie from thomasine jeffe looking. full fairy

user i am. so sorry. so so so sorry. i know nothing can ever compare for the things we said but i really am

yourusername thank you. no hard feelings on my end🤍

ੈ✩‧₊˚ landonorris just posted a photo

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landonorris my candy. it may not have been how you intended, but i’m glad i get to show off how proud of you i am.

i’ve watched you as both candor and y/n for a while now, and i love both versions of you entirely. i cannot wait to see what you do now you have the freedom to be whoever you want to.

and hey, pretty cool to be able to say i’m the inspiration behind some of your characters, huh?🖤

ps. so glad i can finally share photos of mY CAT. even if he does hate me biscuit is MINE as well

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user love the clarification that the most important thing to lando is sharing photos of his cat😭😭

user MORE PICS OF BISCUIT PLEASE

user i’ve always been in love with her i can say that confidently

user oh so you’re a successful fanboy

yourusername biscuit told me to tell u ur smelly for using him for likes

landonorris you literally said to me omg i can post about biscuit now YOU FEEL THE SAME DONT LIE

ੈ✩‧₊˚ musingsofcandor just posted a photo

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musingsofcandor i’ve had a bit of inspiration for some time🤍

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user MOM AND DAD

user i can’t believe this. my worlds are colliding

user I KNEW CAPTAIN ROURKE FELT FAMILIAR IN THE TALES OF PETER ROURKE

user i can’t believe my fav ever love interest is based on lando….

landonorris i love you. thanks for immortalising me🖤

————

a/n: hello hello! another one whilst i recover!

so this was based on an anon request and i have had so much fUN writing it!!!! whilst i don’t normally do requests generally due to being overwhelmed easily, this one stood out to me as i Love books so i was inspired. to the anon who requested, i hope this is what you imagined🤍

in terms of further requests! whilst i can’t promise i’ll do them, if you have any pressing ideas you think would work with my style , do feel free to send them in ! i always love to hear your ideas (and any thoughts on my works!! please send feedback as well!!) and will try gradually to get through some🤍

fun fact: all the book titles are based on actual books i have written hehe

fun fact pt2: yes her pseudonym is chosen bc i watched divergent last night

taglist (found in pinned post): @idkiwantchocolatee @vellicora @alessioayla @bborra @crimeshowjunkie @minkyungseokie @paolexsstuff @celestialpato @champagnelovers101 @loxbbg @hobiismyhopeu @tsukishitm-a @moonypixel @champagneproblems17 @ironmaiden1313 @lqvesoph @sunflower-golden-vol6 @six-call @skatingiswalkingincursive @peqch-pie @m0cha-bunny @woozarts @he6rtshaker @iluvvmeeee @goldenalbon @izzy-marvel @lucyysthings @lichterfee @tallrock35

#f1 x reader #f1 #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris au #mclaren #lando norris blurb #lando norris scenario #lando norris one shot #lando norris smau

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manjjiros · 3 months

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TRICKED YOU!

ran haitani / rindou haitani / sanzu haruchiyo x gn!reader (separate)

cws: suggestive but fluffy, like actually kind of tooth rotting, little white lies, established relationship (ran), situationships (rindou, sanzu), discussions of drug usage (sanzu), bonten timeline, ask to tag

from the ASM: tricking the trio into getting some rest isn’t exactly easy. but the probability of getting it to work is not exactly zero, either.

over the loudspeaker: @sin-and-punishment

— RAN HAITANI.

“raaaan,” you whined into the receiver, rolling over in your sheets and letting them rustle against your phone.

you heard your poor boyfriend let out a breath on the other end of the line. “what’s the matter, angel? i’m a little tied up at the moment.”

you knew he was, obviously, or you wouldn’t be calling. you knew his schedule inside and out by now, when he had meetings, when he ran off on sudden jobs to handle important business you had no interest in knowing about.

it was always a little more fun to be able to pull him from some boring, dreadful meeting than when he was free to join you.

“come home,” you breathed, and you heard the way he hummed in the back of his throat.

“i can’t, come on. you know this. don’t make me feel bad.”

“but the bed’s cold, ran. aren’t you gonna come make it warm again?”

there was a brief pause and some speaking in the background. clearly he was in a meeting, which you had expected.

“warm up yourself, angel-“

“no, come home. i just want you.”

ran grunted into the phone, and you heard him pull the device from his ear and shout towards the voices in the background. it was muffled and broke up a bit; the reception in abandoned warehouses typically wasn’t the best.

“ran?”

“i’m here. just- stay put. ‘m coming. you gonna be good f’ me?”

“yeah.”

“fine. see you soon.” he hung up, and you smiled to yourself, successful in your endeavor.

you’d left the door open for him and left a set of sleep clothes at the edge of the bed for him. he hadn’t been sleeping, you knew that; the circles under his eyes and the way he forced himself out of bed in the mornings gave it away. something must have happened, or maybe something resurfaced — he hadn’t told you yet, but you could make an educated guess.

ran arrived at your place within the half hour, the heels of his slick shoes clicking along the floorboards as he made his way towards your room where you waited for him, cuddled up in your duvet with the lamp light casting everything in a warm yellow.

he nudged the door open with a huff, smiling briefly before pausing. “i have to admit, this isn’t what i was expecting.”

“what, don’t wanna just nap?”

“i thought you were calling for a hookup.”

“dirty mind! i never said that,” you giggled at his exasperated face before pulling back the covers to give him space. “come on, baby. you look exhausted. you’ve got bags under your eyes.”

“don’t say that shit, my eyes are fine.”

“because you steal my eye cream!” you pouted then, folding your arms at his pushback.

he grumbled at you but ultimately eyed up the empty space next to you in the bed, letting out a loud sigh.

“cant believe i left the meeting to come take a nap. what is this, high school? i used to do this shit as a kid. play hooky and sleep in weird places.” he yawned as he spoke, undressing his three-piece suit in exchange for the t-shirt and shorts you left out for him. you just nodded along and patted the space next to you for him to climb into.

he joined you, eventually, long limbs grabbing onto you to pull you in close and bury his face in your chest. you smiled as the scent of his cologne floated up around you, the smell of his hair gel right under your nose.

it felt like it was barely two minutes before your talkative boyfriend was knocked out against your chest, your fingers combing through his hair.

— RINDOU HAITANI.

to: annoying prick

me: come over.

annoying prick: how about a please?

me: come over Now. miss you.

annoying prick: i screenshotted that for evidence.

me: i hope you crash on your way here.

annoying prick: i didn’t say i was coming? smfh.

you rolled your eyes at your phone as you fussed with the string of his hoodie around your finger. rindou never listened when you invited him over, always giving you a hard time despite expecting you to bend to his will whenever he wanted to see you.

oftentimes things happened on his terms, not yours. which normally isn’t a problem, except for this one time when you wanted to fuck with him.

your finger hovered over the call button before you opted for another direction, opening up your camera and taking a quick photo of his hoodie string between your teeth, cute and suggestive and alluring. you made sure to get most of your upper body in the shot, laid back against your pillows.

me: [1 image]

me: come over? now?

annoying prick: is that my

annoying prick: cheap shot. stay there. don’t even think about touching.

you laughed at how quickly his tone changed, shaking your head at his ridiculousness. he was a grown man, sure, but he was rude and mean and often thought with his dick rather than his head.

you heard the revv of his bike engine before you saw it through his window, clicking your tongue when you spotted him without a helmet. you understood that he was some sort of criminal, but you kind of liked him, sort of, and didn’t actually want him to crash and die.

you watched him park the bike illegally in front of your place and hop off of it quickly, straightening out the front of his suit jacket as he walked up towards the door.

you heard him grumble when the door was locked, fucking around for the spare key before finally getting inside your home and beelining towards your room.

you broke into giggles as he shoved your door open and undid the front two buttons of his suit jacket, trying to clamber over your body on the bed. “tease, calling me home from bein’ busy just to fuck around, what are you-“

“aht,” you stopped him with a finger to his chest, shaking your head, “not what i invited you here for.”

he stared back at you, hesitating and hovering over your form. “excuse me?”

you chose that exact moment to whip out the puppy eyes, jutting out your bottom lip and laying back on your pillows, “my bed was cold, rin! just wanted you to come over and take a nap with me.”

he gawked at you before sitting up on his knees and running a hand through his hair. “are you being fucking serious?”

“yes.”

“you invited me over. to nap?”

“mhm. and now you’re here. so let’s take one.”

“what the-“

“please?” you cocked your head and tried the puppy eyes again, to which he made a face, but didn’t necessarily move away.

“i don’t have-“

“you leave clothes here all the time. i have some set out in the bathroom.”

“fuck you.”

“maybe next time.” you broke into laughter as he succumbed to his fate, getting out of your bed to disappear down the hall into your bathroom. he returned within five minutes, having changed into a pair of pajama pants and forgetting his shirt, standing at the side of your bed awkwardly.

“well? come in, i’m exhausted.”

“this is weird.”

“no it’s not. just lay down, asshole.” you huffed and pulled back the covers for him. he squinted at you, having taken his contacts out, before reluctantly crawling into the bed next to you. you snuggled up against his side, to which he tensed, but ultimately ended up wrapping an arm around you anyway.

he fell asleep before you did, mouth open and drooling all over your pillow. you took a photo, not because you liked him or anything… well…

— SANZU HARUCHIYO.

convincing sanzu to listen to you at all was like trying to train a poodle. it was very, very difficult because he was very, very defiant.

you knew he hadn’t been sleeping well. you knew it well, unfortunately; his work was catching up to him and drugs weren’t your favorite solution to the problem.

you told him time and time again that he needed rest, that it was because you cared that you were nagging at him, and yet he always bit right back at you like a dog nipping its owner’s hand.

you had had enough. so you decided to play the game.

you sat in his car waiting for him to finish some job in some remote part of the red light district, in a back alley with no prying eyes or lights, really.

you sat in wait until finally sanzu reappeared in the faded yellow light of the nearest street lamp, wiping his hands on a handkerchief and kicking a lead pipe against the wall. you chose not to question his line of work.

he grinned when he saw you in the passenger’s seat, as if he had forgotten you were there, and hurried around to the driver’s seat to get in and lean into your space.

“all done now, baby.” he pressed kisses to the corners of your lips, making you giggle before he caught your mouth with his own.

you hummed against his lips, lifting a hand to curl your fingers around his tie. “haru,” you breathed, tugging lightly on the fabric, “can we please get home? wanna get into bed with you…”

he pulled back slightly to meet your gaze with his own crazed one, eyes studying you almost clinically as a grin spread across his face. “oh yeah? baby wants to get home?”

“mhm.”

“hell yeah, i’ll get you fuckin’ home.” he pulled back from you to start the car, and you gripped the oh-shit handle because you knew he was just going to peel out of the alleyway.

and that he did, whipping down side streets and revving the engine, one hand on the wheel and the other gripping your thigh.

you giggled to yourself as you watched the veins in his arm, shaking your head. he just had no idea how easy he was to fool.

it took far shorter of a time than it should have to get back to your place, and he parked before hurrying out of the car and getting the passenger door for you.

you got out and led him to the door, feeling him stalk your every movement, only ever one step behind you. you unlocked your door and kicked your shoes off with a laugh as he tried to pin you against the nearest wall, freeing yourself from his grasp and making your way towards your room.

he grunted as he followed you, muttering something about you being a tease.

you turned on your heel once you got to your room and took a seat on the bed. “much better. i’m so tired, haru.”

“huh?”

“let’s just go to bed, how about it?” you started to get undressed as he stood in your doorway, scarred lips twitching with confusion.

“what are you talking about?”

“haru, let’s go to bed. i know you’re tired too.”

“no, this is-“

“no buts.” you stood to shimmy out of the rest of your clothing and tug your pajamas on. “strip and cuddle with me.”

haru wasn’t a cuddler, not by a long shot. but, with you…

he felt like he blinked, and suddenly he was on his back in your bed with you at his side in the dark. you snuggled up closer to him and ran your fingers through his hair.

soon enough, his breathing evened out, and you smiled to yourself as his grip on you grew tighter in his sleep.

#ran haitani x reader #rindou haitani x reader #sanzu haruchiyo x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokrev x reader #tr x reader #♧ — ran haitani #♧ — rindou haitani #♧ — sanzu

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neteyamsilly · 1 year

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i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 3

summary ;; Sullys stick together. You learn the hard way what happens when you don't. PART 2 | PART 4 pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; descriptions of blood and violence incoming, beware! shout out to the ppl who predicted the stuff in this chapter LMAO so um... i couldnt tag everybody who asked when i said i would... there's apparently a limit to how many people you can tag. please forgive me 😭 im not taking any tagging requests anymore since i cant do it. so sorry about that,,,, seriously also, thank you so much for 1160 followers! i still cant fucking believe it... daddy issues solidarity 🤙🏻🤙🏻

“Hi there Corporal, you hear me? Yeah, I know you do. As much as I’m charmed by the fatherly love I could give you a big old sloppy wet kiss, we have unfinished business.”

Rain covered the rustling of clothes and the click-clacks of readjusted weapons as concentrated silence hung in the air, thick and heavy like the morning mist swallowing up the forest.

No answer.

What face could your parents be making right now? Heartbeat in your ears, you tried to hide your shame by looking down, but a jerk on your queue set you straight. the avatar holding you digging his gun sharper in your neck.

“What, cat got your tongue all of a sudden?” The leader’s stare found yours. “Let me give you a quick remedy.”

They’d linked your device into another for the sound to be relayed outside and the voice detection range could be wider, in other words, they wanted your father to hear what was happening to you. Your braid was yanked as if the one pulling it wanted to snap it right off your skull, no amount of training could stop the scream torn out of you — all the show just for him.

The line was deadly still, save for some rustling, crackling static that you could have easily mistaken for hissing.

A ghost of a smile shadowed the man’s face, he extended his rifle to tip your chin up. “Guess we’re gonna have to be louder than that to wake daddy up sweetheart.”

“Stop!” Father yelled, the unexpected timing of it made you jump. That earned him a group chuckle from the avatars around you. “Stop.”

He talked. He didn’t leave you to fend for yourself in this. Thank Eywa!

“That was fast,” the captor behind you said.

“Thought you’d have forgotten English by now, playing native.”

“...Quaritch?”

Quaritch. That awful, awful man from the stories your mother killed? Spider’s father? But… But he was dead. How could sky people know how to cheat death?

“In the flesh.”

Father’s voice wavered, you’d think he was scared if you didn’t know any better. “That’s impossible.”

“Back from the grave just for you, Jake.”

“Then I’ll just have to put you right back where you belong.”

The squad of avatars openly laughed at that, boisterous, confident, arrogant.

This was Toruk Makto they were openly mocking. None of them would last for one minute in front of him and yet—

“Quite the teary lovers reunion we’re havin’ here, but you got busy while I was gone, huh?” He looked down at you again, yellow eyes filled with mirth. “I have this tiny bird here we plucked right out of the air. Imagine my surprise to learn she’s yours. Is this the only one, or you got yourself a litter now?”

Silence again.

“What do you want?”

“Straight to the point as always.” The smug smile momentarily twitched into an unamused, withheld resentment. This man was nearing the end of his capacity to keep taunting. “I don’t think I’ll tell yet. You know I love to be a tease.”

Your ears rotated upwards in treacherous hope at your father's next words. “If you touch one hair on my daughter’s head I swear to god—”

“You exchanged your god for this shithole, Jake. Let’s not kid ourselves now.” Any hint of playing around was gone, now, eyes fixated on something on the ground ahead. “Your daughter will be my guest for a while. Think of it as summer vacation. Don’t worry, unlike the Na’vi, we’re very hospitable.” His thumb brushed over a button. “Until next time.”

“Fucking bastard—”

With one beep, the call was over. Quaritch was touching the band around his neck this time. “Iron Sky, Blue on Actual. We are standing by for extract, over.”

You began to tussle against the avatar behind your back. “No! No! Let me go!”

“Be advised. We're bringing in a high value prisoner.”

“Dad’s really gonna flay her alive this time, I can’t wait.” Lo’ak, positioned just behind the flap of the tent to not be seen from the outside as he peeked with one eyeball just in case, was watching his parents vehemently yell at each other in whispers that started out loud, but got hushed probably to not reach him and his siblings. Aggressive limb gestures were flying in the air, and at one point, his mom had tried to run off somewhere and was forcefully stopped.

Dad was currently pacing around like a wild animal with one hand permanently stuck rubbing his face, and mom turned away from him, holding her forehead. “They’re really going at it, huh?

Kiri was not amused with his insistence to breach their privacy. “What’s so interesting about watching this kind of thing?”

“Catharsis?” He remarked in English, feeling sophisticated. “You remember Spider talking about it? Purification and emotional cleansing through relief that you’re not going through the horrible tragedy, the character on stage is.”

“You’re normally so dumb.” Lo’ak bore his fangs at her matter-of-fact tone of voice. “Your brain only comes back on when it’s about chaos.”

“I’m petty, and what about it?” A tilt of his head to dare Kiri to ask for her point, then his attention was thwarted by an incomprehensible cry from his mother. She was pushing dad from his arms, furious like Lo’ak had never seen before as the upset man tried to hold her more. “Look at mom and dad breathing fire at each other! You think they’re discussing how to punish her?”

“Stop spying already skxawng, mom will be angry if she sees you. We’re supposed to be in bed.”

“Shut up, I’m trying to listen here!” His ears were tilting at every angle to make out any words that reached to him as nothing but a cluster of broken sounds. “Why did they have to go far?”

“Because they wanted to be away from peeping toms like you?”

“And you’re still here too, so?” Lo’ak gave his sister a meaningful look. “I know you wanna see too.”

“Ugh!” Kiri shoved out her tongue at him, eyes dead. “And it’s not funny, by the way! They are fighting. Stop being happy about it.”

He knew they were fighting about his older sister, and that she’d get all the heat and fallout from it the moment she was back. Lo’ak’s head was full of what he could get out of it, or what to ask her for in return for helping her out in her detention. So satisfying to be the sibling who wasn’t in trouble. He should do it more, actually. “It is funny when it’s not about me.”

“You’re sick for taking joy in another’s suffering.”

“Oh, I’m doomed, then.” Kiri took whatever fat was on his thin arm between her thumb and forefinger, and twisted. Lo’ak had to blink away the tears that rushed to his eyes, snatching his limb away from the displeased girl and pushing her away in return — he was annoyed at how much that hurt, why was that so damaging for no reason? “Yeouch! What the hell?”

“Will it kill you to practice mindfulness once in a while?”

He raised his voice’s pitch to mock the wobbly, ear-scratching whine of yours, and exaggerated his body movements to match, too. “I hate you!”

“Gross.” She tried to shove him, he caught her hands in the air, pushing her back and getting the spiteful annoyance of his sister as a result. “Dad was actually hurt by that.” Lo’ak’s eyes could roll down the hills by themselves the way that sounded, but Kiri, as always, was bothered so inexplicably. “I don’t like this. I have a bad feeling.”

That bad feeling was the herald of dad’s upcoming cranky ill-temper and what would follow after you inevitably had to come crawling back home with tail between your legs, Neteyam dragging you from the scruff of your neck. Lo’ak was refusing to sleep so he could enjoy the fight.

“Me personally, am over the moon, ikran duty is so gonna be off my hands. For months.” He halted at the idea that just went off in his head, tail swishing with the hype. “I wanna tell Spider. I’ll go get him.”

“Absolutely not. You sneak off now and they’ll laser-focus all the anger on you!” Kiri was pointing a warning hand at him, but slowly lowered it, one corner of her mouth twitching up. She was holding back amusement. “Hey, you know what? Nevermind, you can go. I want you to go. I have to see this.”

“Ha-ha.” Lo’ak’s tail stuttered, losing enthusiasm. “Attempted murder, much?”

“Guys, what’s going on…”

Upon the unexpected voice that wobbled its way into their conversation, they both looked down to see Tuk gripping her weaved blanket with one hand and dragging it on the floor as she made her way to them, the other rubbing her eyes one by one so sleep dripping from them would fly away.

“See, you woke her up! What do we do now?”

“You woke her up by yelling, why is it my fault now?”

“I didn’t, you—”

“Did too.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did n—”

“Guys…” Tuk pulled on Kiri’s hand, and the foreign object she was clutching the whole time distracted Lo’ak. It must have dug into the older one’s skin that she carefully picked it up to inspect. The ear pieces they took off before they went to sleep. This one was Kiri’s. “Neteyam’s calling. You didn’t hear…”

Grinning, Lo’ak snatched it up and skipped backwards and put it in his own ear, ignoring Kiri’s hushed yells to give it back now and the groans about ruining it with his stinky, cheesy earwax. He had to keep bouncing around, the girl was chasing him around the tent. “Bro! Tell her she’s sooo dead. Dad’s literally keeping guard in front of the tent—”

“Lo’ak, quit it.” Neteyam’s tremulous answer was harsh. Lo’ak’s smile wavered as he dodged Kiri’s arm and jumped over discarded cups on the floor, knocking over wooden spoons. “I need you to tell me what’s happening over there.”

“Aw, baby’s so scared to come back she needs to make a game plan first?” He laughed, slapping Kiri’s hands away. “I’ll only tell if she gives back my karambit knife.”

His older brother sighed, a bit too exasperated.

“Yeah, I’m not letting that one go and I’m also making it your problem—”

“Lo’ak, she isn’t here.”

He stopped dead in his tracks. “What?”

“She isn’t here. I couldn’t find her.” Kiri bumped into him, unable to stop herself at the right time to hit the brakes due to how abruptly Lo’ak had stilled. They’d almost tumbled over. “Dad told me to wait until he contacts her and I’ve been waiting for minutes. Now tell me what’s going on over there.”

“Bro, you’re serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be serious, skxawng!”

He turned to Kiri in disgusted discomfort, who had damn-near glued her own ear to his to hear better. “Forget months, I’ll be free for years. Dad’s not gonna let her take one step off the camp anymore.”

The girl would stomp her foot if she was a couple years younger. “What’s this about?”

And Neteyam would shake Lo’ak from the neck for ignoring him this long while he was fussing. “Tell me already you—!”

“They’re having a fight bro.” He leaned better to peep outside the tent. “Yeah.”

“She came back? Why didn’t you tell me?”

It was uncommon for Neteyam to completely disregard the previous input he’d been given. Lo’ak didn’t understand this level of anxiety. “Are you having a brain fart? Would we be having this conversation if she was here? It’s mom and dad who are fighting.”

It wasn’t that serious — on the contrary, his sister was quite simple to understand. She didn’t want to be found and had changed her place of hiding. End of story. The golden boy’s worrywart nature was keeping him from reasoning.

“Don’t be a smartass.” Lo’ak practically felt Neteyam’s want to land a loud smack on his back. “Were they only able to reach her, then? Is that why they’re fighting?”

“You’re asking me?—”

The older boy began to grumble under his breath. “This is why I called Kiri.”

Said girl’s ears perked up over picking her name from the static-surrounded line. Lo’ak snorted. “Ouch, bro.”

Kiri shook him from the elbow. “Me? What about me?”

“Great title for your autobiography.”

Kiri raised her arms to give him a beating and Lo’ak was already bolting away from anywhere near her vicinity. The siblings didn’t even take notice of the line with Neteyam going dark as they focused on their own play-scuffle for a while.

Until Lo’ak bumped into someone.

It wasn’t Tuk.

Shoulders pulled into himself, he turned around torturously freaked out to find dad standing there like a ghost, his tactical vest packed to the brim and gun hanging from his back the way they wore their bows.

The blue of his skin had faded into an ashier tone, amber eyes wide and bloodshot, the veins on the normally put together Olo’eyktan’s forehead were bulging, even a socially clueless person would pick up something was seriously wrong. He commanded cold authority of the battlefield simply by the way he stood, immediately triggering Lo’ak into soldier mode.

He took a few steps back, chin hanging low at the lightless, unblinking stare his father pushed down on him. “Sir.”

All the sleepiness that had Tuk unresponsive and nodding off through Lo’ak and Kiri’s push-and-pull was knocked out of her at the sight, she was now unnerved and frightened. “Dad?”

The man’s intensity was somehow eased by his youngest’s reaction, but he held back from taking her in his arms like he normally would to comfort her, didn’t even care to remark on how they were supposed to be sleeping — how they’d woken their little sister up, instead focusing on Lo’ak. “I want you all to listen well. Your mother and I are heading out for a minute and your grandmother will be with you soon — Neteyam is Oscar-Mike to come back here. Stay put and don’t go anywhere, understand?” His finger pointed accusingly at him. “Don’t cause trouble. Looking at you boy, what I’m saying here is Marine proof. I’m at the end of my wits here, don’t even think about slipping a tail out of this tent.”

The potent severity of whatever the hell was making him this agitated to the point of a voice so hoarse it was unrecognizable got the wheels in Lo’ak’s head whirring. “What’s happening, dad?”

“One child!” The thundering shout came down on him with the force of a falling mountain, making Lo’ak jump out of his skin. “I need one child of mine to listen to me without asking any questions today!” Dad’s voice broke when Tuk whined, he shut his eyes as if he was in physical pain, and flexed his jaw, shaking his head and pulling the girl in from her shoulders to soothe her. Still no direct hugging. “Jesus Christ.”

“I’m sorry sir,” Lo’ak said immediately, distraught by the over-the-top reaction, hands unknowingly curling into fists by his sides. Whenever that sky people word ‘Jesus’ slipped from dad not having any control between the border of his two languages, the boy knew it was demanding gravitas. “I heard you CFB.”

“Good.” He thinned his lips. “Kiri, please.”

Lo’ak frowned at dad basically asking for her to play her brother’s keeper in Neteyam’s absence in two simple words.

She nodded. “I know dad.”

He caught a glimpse of his mother running in the distance, her father’s bow in her hand.

Just what was happening? What had you done?

Eywa, it had to be sky people.

Dad saw the realization in his face. “Stay,” he emphasized, one final time before he was also gone with the wind.

Lo’ak wouldn’t have obeyed if it wasn’t for his grandmother arriving just in time, keeping them busy with a story about the arrival of a wounded ikran with no rider.

You realized the gunshot wound puncturing your upper abdomen was there the whole time when the avatars put first aid and later slapped a rectangular sky people bandage on it that helped clotting or whatever it was called, the pain simply not being there had played a big factor in it with the body running on pure adrenaline.

(Crouching close to you, Quaritch had bragged, “We aren’t so bad after all, huh, sweetheart? It’s called civilization. Your daddy ever taught you about that?”

Civilization, your ass. They needed you. There was nothing well-meaning about what they were doing.

And the nickname had ticked you off, sullying the good memories of father, your head slammed into his nose in full power after a hiss.

“Now my daddy taught me that!” you spat in English as other avatars had tackled you. The man claiming to be Quaritch was smiling as he wiped away the blood trickling down his nose.

What was the point in trying to patch you up if they were going to do this, then?)

You were now a part of an elaborate trap to lure your father in. Bait. The worst position to be in. This was the kind of trouble Lo’ak would get himself in. It was too late to go back now, the mess you’d gotten yourself into had made itself known.

Think, think! How could you get out of this?

Within the unsleeping forest’s nightly noises chirping all around you, a specific call in the air halted your train of thought.

It was mom.

Your parents were here. But how? How did they know where you were, exactly? Dread and expectation pooled in your heart, coexisting in a nauseating mix.

Father must be thinking that you already caused so much trouble, they couldn’t know you were also hurt, you’d never hear the end of it.

But there was no time to think, the pain you should have been feeling was ebbing its way into your body, and she was calling in the night to inform you to get ready.

All hell broke loose when the man who held you tight from your queue was shot right from the back of his head with an arrow, collapsing right on top of you.

You couldn’t get away in time to not be crushed by his dead body and promptly got squished between the mossy soil and him, his gun was hurting you, the wound on your stomach getting in the way of you using your core to push the body off.

How many minutes had passed with you struggling to get him off as a hurricane of bullets roared, you didn’t know (it hurt, pain was climbing towards the threshold) — mom was able to break free from the weight of a whole AMP suit, as you’d heard as a child, a Na’vi was naturally strong, but you couldn’t even crawl out. Panic was a rope tightening around your ribcage as your breathing picked up

All of a sudden, the weight was gone, and the only remaining thing from it was the big gun left from the avatar you found yourself hugging for dear life, eyes wide as saucers. Before you could see whoever had done that, you got hoisted up right back on your feet and tried to run, only to be held tighter and pulled behind the trunk of a tree.

“Hey, it’s me, it’s me!” Clumsy, overwrought hands were cupping your cheeks and — and oh, it was your father.

You didn’t know whether to be afraid or cry from happiness.

Once he was sure you registered it was him by staring intently in your eyes with that edge of the softness you’d missed so much, his hold shifted to your neck and around your shoulders, and he gave you a look-over, checking for any wounds. Too bad what he was searching for was behind the gun you were holding. “Are you hurt?” He shook you when you were too stunned to answer. “Are you hurt at all?”

“No,” you shook your head automatically, it was weak against the explosions of bullets raining down all around you, but father had picked it up regardless, only focusing on you for the moment.

In the darkness, nobody could see the blood running down your body, that bandage had come out at one point.

“On my mark, we’re gonna run, okay?” He nodded to you, tomahawk axe in hand coated in a dark substance, commanding your full attention. “Follow me. Ready? Ready?”

You weren’t ready at all, stomach feeling like it was being stabbed at every heartbeat, but you couldn’t tell him that.

Instead, you ran like hell, moored by father’s taut clutch on your forearm pulling you forward to match his incredible speed dodging roots, bushes and branches.

Things stopped moving only when you were enveloped in mom’s embrace, consciousness almost flying off from the relief that washed over you. Kisses were peppered along your hairline and forehead, her mumbling your name in gratitude blending with your panting. Tears burned bitter in your eyes, but you couldn’t cry, not when father was looking at you like that, chest rising and falling. You instantaneously remembered why you were holding that gun at the intensity he was radiating, tail escaping between your legs and letting mom hold you.

At least this way he wasn’t able to objurgate you.

Over her shoulder, you saw three ikrans instead of two. Heart soaring, you were skipping towards him in pure astonishment in a heartbeat. “Hey buddy!”

His head lowered down towards you in bird-like movements. In this angle, it looked like he was giving you a razor sharp-toothed big grin.

“He brought us here,” your mother said. The hand you were going to pet the ikran with stopped midway at her dejected tone. “You have passed Iknimaya, I take it. On your own.”

You didn’t know what to say, feeling immense guilt at having made her this disappointed over it. If this was any normal situation, any normal fight at all, you would have shot back with, ‘Well father told me to do it.’

But you were tired.

Your pain threshold was being threatened, and you needed to get to your grandmother before any of your parents saw the situation you were in and this escalated into the worst fight you were going to get into in your entire life.

Father’s only response was a dead cold, “C’mon, we gotta get outta here.”

He didn’t talk to you after that. Not one word.

Squatting on an ikran’s back on a flight with an abdominal gunshot wound you were trying to hide was not an option unless you wanted to pass out midair and was looking for a free dive, so you were all but hugging the poor thing’s neck like a monkey, trusting him to follow your parents while you concentrated on mentally fighting to level out the pain.

Nonsensical as it was to believe the gun stuck between your ikran’s neck and your stomach was acting as a tampon to lessen the bleeding, you were concerned with how dumb it must have looked to father and mom, how incompetent they must think of you that their daughter didn’t even know how to ride right.

Got an ikran for nothing.

Would they be less proud of you seeing how funny it appeared, nevermind that it was to contain your pain all the while not trying to faint?

But no words were exchanged about it.

Father clamping up right after he’d made sure you weren’t hurt (yikes) had resulted in this awkward trip succumbing in total silence. They had sandwiched you between them, only necessary space for the ikrans to beat their wings freely left, so close that you could discern the scariest look on father yet, deepening the lines of age in his face while simultaneously expressing his barely contained desire to kill someone.

A ticking time bomb.

Forget speaking at all, but not only did he never address you until now, he didn’t even look in your direction for once. You knew because staring at him for five minutes straight for him to just acknowledge your existence had proven to be unfruitful.

And the tears involuntarily streamed down your cheeks with how utterly worthless and alone that made you feel, trapped in this agony you couldn’t help but hide because he’d think you didn’t deserve to complain after bringing it upon yourself. You would rather bite your tongue and bear the pain than stay dreading his reaction.

Yeah, no, he couldn’t know.

Mom was looking over at you every one minute to make sure you were okay after her ears picked up on your sniffles, arrows of worry shot from her side sinking down your skin every single time, and you hated to make her this way.

Your ikran kept comforting you through tsaheylu until you landed.

Father had promptly jumped down, agile and making haste away somewhere, passing you by and giving the cold shoulder. You all but slid off your own ikran, managing to make the gun stay where it should be, as you couldn’t help but weakly call out to him for one drop of consolation. “Father…”

He didn’t stop for you, quickening his steps, but his ears twitched, the tail beating the air ferociously halting and lowering before it returned to the previous motions, and those were the only indications that he’d heard it Lima Charlie.

The man just didn’t want to talk to you.

And you had to make yourself believe it wasn’t the emotional devastation that had you falling down, but the wound sucking out all your energy now that you had gotten to safety.

“Ma’ite?” Mom rushed to you. “Ma’ite, what’s wrong? What is it?”

“I’m okay, mom, it’s okay.” You were sitting on the floor, cross-legged. Thank goodness you still had the unbreakable willpower (and not the fear of Eywa put into you by father) to hold your shit together. “I’m okay. Just tired. My knees buckled. Weak, you know?” You swallowed, smiling. “I’m just… Just resting.”

Her gaze full of concern studied you, zeroing in on the gun you clung on for dear life against your stomach. Her hands lovingly brushed your hair, gripped your shoulders and elbows even though you were disgustingly clammy all over. It was grounding, anchoring within the ocean of pain washing over you in waves.

“Oh, why are you sweating so much? You’re freezing.” You clutched the gun harder in a panic when she grasped it, most likely to put it away. It was the wrong reaction to have, but you weren’t exactly in the position to function healthily.

Mom, as any other person would, got suspicious from it, her eyes flying up to your owlish ones — blanked out like a frightened animal. “You’re fine now,” she whispered, thankfully attributing it to how disturbed you must be, still not out of survival mode. “You are safe, my daughter. Mom is here.” She cupped your cheek, but every touch to your body hurt now, even when it was away from the gaping wound, still gushing blood, trickling down your hips and getting you scared that it’d be discovered once you stood up. “I’m here.” She searched your soul to know just why you were grimacing at her attempts of comforting. “I will take this now, you do not need it anymore.”

You snapped out of the gradually darkening gray haze mom’s lulling was laying you down gingerly into. “No, please don’t,” your breathing hitched. She was going to see. She couldn’t see. You had to avoid this somehow, as long as you could. Grandmother’s tent. You would make it, you had to. “I’ll… I’ll just sit here for a while, okay? I need to just… take a small break, and then I’ll… Can you go back? I’ll follow later. Father is angry, I don’t—”

“Nonsense.” Incredulous and enraged suddenly about something you couldn’t put a finger on, and before you could stop her, she tried to haul you up with her by gripping your upper arms — colors exploded behind your eyelids, getting you you to lose consciousness for two seconds, your vision flooding back in a starry kaleidoscope. When mom’s voice reached your ears, it was in staccato exclaims your ears were ringing too much to discern. She was shaking you.

You weren’t able to sit up straight anymore, leaning forward — mom had caught you, utterly confused and panicked at the same time. And then your head was lying on the crook of her elbow resting on her legs she’d tucked under herself. The moment you’d switched from sitting to straight up lying down was missing from your memories.

A baby being cradled. Yes, this is exactly what it was like. Gentle arms surrounded you amidst the pulsating sea of agony.

Your body was letting go, but your arms were vices around the gun, still holding that last line. Don’t let go. Don’t let go. They can’t know. Father will be so mad if he learns. “‘m okay… ‘st restin’…”

When your eyes cleared enough for the surroundings to be only a bit blurry, your mom was looking at the hand she’d just tried to take away the gun with, caked with your blood that had stained it, out of it and perplexed like she didn’t want to believe it.

Her gut-wrenchingly stunned numbness sent the misery clawing its way inside into overdrive, pulling your consciousness down to the earth from the clouds it was ascending to. “Not mine,” you forced out, but it came out as begging. Everything was falling apart. The plan was so simple, why couldn’t you do anything right? “Not mine. Please. Mom, it’s okay.”

“No…” Mumbling, she started sharply swaying back and forth, and with one brutally vigorous attack, she ripped the gun away from your arms, and hurled it away — then it was over. Your sob wasn’t due to the motion hurting you, it was all entirely for the broken wail of your mother at seeing the bloodied mess, tears spilling from her eyes as she reached down to press down at the pouring liquid. “No! No! Oh Great Mother! Why did you hide this! Oh, my daughter!”

“No, mom, I’m fine, it’s nothing. Not my blood. Not my blood, okay?” You reached up weakly and wiped at her cheeks with trembling fingers, your heart got crushed worse than the pain could beat you down at her grief — lungs constricting. Where was all the air? “I’ll get up. I’ll go to grandmother, don’t cry. Just resting.”

Frantically looking around, she yelled, “Jake!—” but her voice didn’t quite come out, breathy as if she’d been punched in the ribcage seconds prior.

A heartbeat’s worth of nothingness, after which you were full-on freaking out. Only one thought: Father will be angry.

“No!” You shrieked, and blood swelled in one strong pump against mom’s fingers. She looked down at you in anguish, pupils blown wide, arm tightening around you as if you were a flailing bird. “Don’t tell him! Don’t tell father! He’ll really kill me for this—”

“No, no no no,” she shook her head, frenzied, tone cracked from beginning to end. “Do not say that. Don’t you ever say that—”

But you were struggling in her arms, wanting nothing but to crawl away into a hole, no reason registering whatsoever, only instinct. “He’ll be so angry,” you begged, pleading, pink spit bubbling at the corners of your mouth. The sound of gurgling accompanying the words you forced your whole body to form. “You can’t tell him — you can’t! He already hates me!”

The more you thrashed around and kicked your legs, the more you bled.

“Please, Great Mother!” The more mom lost her mind, hissing and howling hysterically, crazed, hugging you tighter and rocking. “Jake! Jake! Ma’Jake!” She put her temple against yours. “Not my daughter, please, Eywa…”

Why was she being like this? It wasn’t that serious! You were okay!

Delirium claimed you hot as she kept calling his name and her unbreakable hold on you kept you in a cage of a mother’s despair. In your feverish mind, a threat to your life was coming. Weakness spread like wildfire around your body and chipped away at the pain, slowly picking it apart to replace it with drowsiness. “Don’t call ‘im,” you continued to repeat, over and over again. “I’m just taking a break. Don’t call him over. He’s gonna be angry. He’ll hate me. He hates me. Please, mom.”

The sentences slurred together, shortened, wilted away pitifully, your voice died down, tongue deteriorating into only echoing, “He hates me.” A withered away, old flute.

Your ikran was bellowing in the distance and you looked. The torches on cave walls were illuminating him and finally revealing to you his beautiful color scheme.

And then your father was here, falling to his knees right beside you, his glistening wide eyes flying everywhere around your body — tracing all the blood, hands hovering above you as if he didn’t know where to start piecing a shattered vase back together.

It was over.

Fully expecting the chastising you were about to receive to shake the floating mountains so bad the enemy would be able to spot you, you began to apologize — pride be damned, this battle be lost, you’d failed anyway. “Please don’t be mad,” you shuddered, meek and unsteady, tunnel vision flickering at the edges only perceiving him. “It’s my fault—I’m sorry—please don’t be angry—”

“Stop talking,” he ordered, rough and harsh, eyebrows knitted tightly, and out of breath — probably because of how hard he was trying to hold the anger back. You knew. That had to be it. “Don’t speak.”

Ah of course. This was only natural when he had refused to utter a single word at you the whole way, denying you the temporary comfort of a simple glance.

Even the hand he pressed down so ruthlessly firm on your stomach it might as well be a boulder pinning you down was meant to be punishment, the whines your unbreathing lungs couldn’t stop turned into yowls — you hadn’t even noticed your hands were wrapped around father’s wrist in an effort to push him away, scratching him, but he only added his other hand on top of the other in return.

“Hang on, sweetheart, I got you, please hang on a little longer,” he pleaded, but you were already too far gone, Eywa was cruel to have plugged your ears to the endearment you’d been dying to hear from him for so long, making the last things you were aware father said to you the fact that he didn’t even want to hear you talking.

And you fulfilled his wish.

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#dad!jake x daughter!reader #dad!jake sully x reader #dad!jake sully x daughter!reader #jake sully x reader #jake sully x daughter!reader #sully family x reader #mom!neytiri x reader #neteyam x sister!reader #neytiri x daughter!reader #lo'ak x sister!reader #kiri x sister!reader #irma: 📝#📖: light

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caesium-55 · 1 month

Text

—seven days. [ iii ]

pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.

summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.

author's note: hi hello welcome to part three. i flunked the quiz. lemme know what you think. NOT BETA READ. NOT EDITED. this chapter kinda sux. can't believe i went through a breakup just last week and i still cant write decent post-breakup scenes.

tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab hope i didn't forget anyone.

masterlist.

you: *sent a link*

him: ?

him: what's this

you: benefits of crying

you: read it it's enlightening

him: some people do not cry over a breakup you know and that is totally okay

you: why crying helps.

you: 1. tears release toxins, stress hormones to be specific. it is good to let all the bad energy out.

you: 2. it aids sleep. no need for further explanation.

you: 3. crying releases oxytocin and endorphins. i know you don't know what an oxytocin or an endorphin is but they're happy chemicals.

you: 4. crying helps you receive the support you need from the people around you. EMOTIONAL VULNERABILITY is okay, max. stop treating it like an STD.

him: it feels like an std

you: pussy

you: emotional vulnerability is a thing and it's normal so stop trying to be a big strong man when you're barely holding it together.

you: you may look fine now but i know you

him: please stop

you: no

you: 5. crying has a self soothing effect. very nice actually. it activates the rest and digest system.

him: what even is that

you: the parasympathetic nervous system

him: ??

you: this is why you shouldn't have dropped out of high school

you: education is important yknow

you: youre already lacking in three forms of intelligence, academic, emotional n social intelligence

him: fuck you im smart

you: fuck you 2 and yeah you're smart but only in geography

you: you probably can't do your taxes

him: im dutch so the company's account department do it for me by default

him: the american system is just weird

you: cant argue w/ u there

you: also, 6. crying helps restore emotional balance

you: see? you need that

you: yknow now that i think abt it you should consider seeking therapy

him: what makes you think i’m not in therapy right now

you: well have you considered getting MORE therapy?

You stand in front of the body mirror, holding the Red Bull polo shirt against your body to see how it looks on you for one last time. On your right sleeve, the word MANAGER is written in bold, white text. Because that was what you were. Just a manager.

In another universe this is not the shirt that you’d be wearing. The MANAGER would have been ENGINEER. In another another universe where your family has been well-off enough to continuously send you to karting school and you would have been the one driving the fucking car by now.

You know, if Max has even tried talking to Horner and suggested that you should be moved into the engineering team, then you wouldn't be stuck wearing this god-awful polo that burned your skin every time you wore it for work. Everybody reduced you as Max’s American manager and because you are American, most of them kind of just assumed that you're dumb, you know?

Does the world even know how smart you are? That you graduated top of your class, got the best thesis award, and that you had finished your masters just this year? Did they even know that a Japanese car company wanted you on their research team? That a NASCAR team wanted you on board as one of their engineers? Does Max even know?

Fuck no. He only knows that you're the best at ironing clothes and organizing his Google calendar and memorizing his entire coffee order by heart. He knew you're good at extinguishing kitchen fires and kicking ass in YSL Opyum heels. You doubt he knows that you can do Calculus in your sleep.

You can take it if the world puts you down for your appearance. But if the world puts you down because of your intellect? That's a different story. You'll take any insult to the face but not to your intelligence.

You have four days left in Monaco so you have begun packing already. You're right, everything did fit into three suitcases. Also, you haven't told Max yet. For some reason, you’re too anxious. Which is shocking to say the least because you never ever gets anxious when it came to Max Verstappen. You wouldn't have lasted this long working alongside Max if you were a pussy.

Max Max Max Super Max Max—

“[Name] here. Need anythin’, champ?”

Hearing a sob on the other end of the line immediately activates your fight or flight response. Your eyes widen and you toss the Red Bull shirt aside. Your legs leads you to the nearly empty shoe rack stationed beside the front door, grabbing the pair of shoes at the very top of the tiny shelf and throwing them on.

“I’m comin’ there. Hang on, Max. You wait for me, okay?”

He doesn't answer, just continuing to sob and the sound absolutely breaks your heart.

You run to his penthouse at a speed that will even put the RB19 to shame. Not even bothering to knock, you barge in and yell his name in the empty halls of his penthouse. You search in the kitchen. He's not there. The living room. Not there either. The room where his simulations are. Not there. You run to his bedroom upstairs.

The door is locked. Dammit. Panic overflooded your system.

“Max, sweetheart, you there?”

No answer, but you can hear a faint sound behind the door if you press your ear against the wood. Firefighter training covered how to open a fucking door when it was locked so this once again becomes a situation where you're grateful that you did that tiring and borderline suicidal volunteer work.

Max keeps a fire extinguisher inside his penthouse as per your advice. There is one stationed in almost every room inside his house. You knew there is one inside his room and another one just at the end of the hallway. You make a quick run for it and once you have the extinguisher in your hands, you run back to his door.

“Step away from the door!” you instructed while your mind mentally calculates your payment plan as you hit the door knob with so much force, the walls tremble at your strength. You're functioning on pure adrenaline. Your instincts only yell one thing and that is: go to Max. No one and nothing in this world will keep you from him. It isn't long until his bedroom door broke down. With one last final kick, it crumbles down from its hinges and you forcefully pry it open and sprint inside.

Max tucks himself in the tiny space in the corner of his huge bedroom, his knees shoved up to his chest. A 181-cm tall man trying to make himself as small as possible.

This is it. This is the bottled-up emotions he's been storing since Abu Dhabi. You cannot say you have not anticipated this. Max is bound to explode sooner or later.

Panic attacks have made a home in Max’s body since he was a child. That's what one gets when they’re parented by someone like Jos Verstappen. He killed Max’s soul and made the boy a machine and for what? To shape a child into a man, a racer that he wanted to be but failed to become at the cost of Max's mental health and childhood.

When Max looks up with that heartbreaking look on his face, you almost crumble. Almost, because you cannot crumble. Not when Max needs you.

Sometimes, you forget what it took for Max to become the champion that he is today. A childhood sacrificed for his dominance on the tracks. A whole lot of hatred from the people to become a WDC. And now, a love lost for his third consecutive championship.

“You came,” his voice cracks towards the end.

Your eyes soften, “You called, Max. Course I’ll come.”

You barely brace yourself for the impact that is Max’s body wrapping around yours in a tight hug. The man have literally launch himself from the floor to you at sixth gear speed. You stumble backwards slightly, holding his bed for support so the both of you won't fall down.

“Max—”

“No,” he whispers and his grip on your tightens as if he's afraid that you’ll slip away if he even tried to give your lungs space to breathe. “Don't speak. Stay.”

What Max wanted, what Max would get. So you shut your mouth, shuffle slightly so he'll be in a more comfortable position and allow him take whatever he wants from you. This will be the last chance he’ll ever do it anyway because in four days time, you’re flying to Texas.

You stay for what is probably hours in that position. Crumbled together on the floor, leaning against the side of Max’s king-sized bed. Your shirt is completely damp from his tears but you cannot even bring yourself to care about it.

“Your shoes…” It's the first time Max has spoken since the start of his meltdown.

“Hm?” you turn your head and your nose nuzzles against his hair, making you scrunch it up a little. His hair is tickling your nostrils. If you lean a little forward, your lips will meet the skin of his temple.

“They’re mismatched.”

Brows furrowed, your eyes move to your feet and see that Max is right. Your shoes are indeed mismatched. On your left is one of your Adidas slides and the other is your slip-on Skechers. You ran from one building to another in mismatched shoes. Fucking embarassing.

“Ignore them.”

Silence.

“You good now?”

“No.”

“Okay,” you say. “If you want to talk, I’ll listen.”

You hear Max let out a shaky breath, “Just stay for a while. Don't leave me alone.”

“Okay.”

Eventually, you manage to talk Max out of the hug. You're beginning to feel claustrophobic but you do not want to say it out right so you try to negotiate instead. That's how you and Max found yourselves inside his kitchen again. You're trying to replicate your Abuela's cheesecake, which she was known for back in Austin, and Max is…well, he's Max and he’s trying to be helpful in any way he can. If it's some other day, you'd have shoved him out of the way because you prefer working alone in the kitchen. Having eyes on you gives you anxiety. But given today’s circumstances, you do not have the heart to make Max leave so you task him with doing the little stuff like mixing things and throwing shit to the trash can nearby. And he does so splendidly.

“Thank you, by the way.”

“For what, baby?” You internally wince at your own slip of the tongue. Damn that habit of yours of calling people with affectionate call signs. Thankfully, Max seems to have not noticed it.

“For coming here.”

You shrug.

“I only did what you did for me in 2021.”

Again, your breakup with Leo was bad bad. You spent a month crying for a love lost and Max was there for you. For the most part, at least. You want him to focus on winning and winning alone that you pushed him away a lot of times but you appreciated how he was more obedient to your commands, that he held his tongue so he wouldn't piss you off even though he was not liking your words, and that he was considerate of you.

“I hope you won't go into fights though,” you chuckle. “Like I did after my breakup.”

He smiles, shaking his head lightly and you know he's recalling the memory. 2021 is a hilarious year for you, the Red Bull manager. You went viral after getting into a cat fight with a girl and a whole fist fight with her boyfriend.

You and Leo called it quits a week before Monaco and even though it had been four races since then, your heart was still in a quite fragile state at that specific race weekend. One minor inconvenience was enough to ignite a wild blaze of fire within you and nobody could extinguish the flames.

After Silverstone FP1, you were leading Max to the cool down room to brief him with Horner’s relayed instructions and someone had thrown a glass bottle towards the both of you while walking. Originally, Max was the main target of the bottle but you happened to have moved towards the line of trajectory and the bottle landed on your temple, hard enough that you stumbled upon impact.

You barely heard Max’s shocked gasp and shout of panic over the sound of glass shattering on your foot because the only thing you could register was the terrifying feeling of a thick liquid trickling down the side of your face and you didn't even need to see it to know it was blood.

The only thing you saw was red and it was on fucking sight.

Fucking Hamilton fan. Fucking Hamilton. He’s in Max’s way. He’s in your way. He’s the wall that was dividing you from your dream position in the engineering team.

You shoved the iPad you were holding to Max’s hands and marched down to the woman wearing the Merc #44 merch, swiftly jumping over the barricade and grabbing her by the collar of her pristine white Versace top.

The events that followed were too fast. You grabbed her collar. She pulled your hair. You also pulled her hair. Someone pulled her away from you. You tried to grab her, clawing her bare arms with your manicured nails. She screamed. You screamed back. You pulled out some curse words in Spanish as well because cursing her in one language alone is not enough. Her boyfriend appeared. A quick punch to your cheek. You fell to the ground.

The world stood still. There was a sting on your palm because your skin got torn from the hard surface of the concrete ground. You let a bloodcurdling war cry and your Dad would definitely be disappointed at you for using the boxing techniques he taught you for self defense purposes only to fight a guy two times your size.

Everything was a bigger blur from there. But you did remember the sensation of Max’s strong arms around you, stopping you from lunging forward again. He was saying sweet words to your ear to calm you down but your brain failed to intercept them so you could hear the words, could hear his voice, but not understand any of it. You remember Christian Horner's disappointed face that haunted you even two years later. You remembered feeling so terrified as you sat outside Christian Horner’s office waiting for the final verdict while he and Max and a few of the Red Bull higher-ups argued about your future with the team. You remembered hearing Max’s loud snarl on the other side of the mahogany door: “Did you see her face?! There was blood everywhere! On her nose, on her mouth, on the fucking side of her head!” You remembered the girl taking the case to court. You remembered fearing that you’d be sent to jail. You remembered that she lost the case because it was ruled as self defense and your injuries were grave. You remembered discovering that it was Max who used all his power and got the best lawyer to fight your case. You remembered the atmosphere in the Red Bull garage shifting when you entered it a few weeks later and everyone stared the bandages and bruises. Everyone thought one thing: of course, it would also take a monster to manage a monster like Max Verstappen. You remembered Lewis Hamilton, seven-time world champion, apologizing personally for the fight caused by his own fan. He didn't need to but he was so sincere with it that you cried when he handed you the apology flowers. God, how could you even hate this man? Your anger towards him was misplaced.

You’d been living with the guilt ever since, that you were horrifyingly violent for a day, that you were capable of killing for a day. And it could happen again. One day. God, you hoped you wouldn't have to see that day. You knew all your coworkers have been careful with angering you ever since. They're terrified of you even. Max should be, too. But then again, why would he when he already saw the horrors done by his father’s hands ever since he was a child? He was used to it.

“I won't,” he says, smiling at you. “I wouldn't want to add anymore problems for you to clean up.”

But you will not be the one cleaning it up because you resigned. You didn’t tell that to him though. Not right now. He just had a meltdown over Kelly leaving him and the news of his manager leaving him too will destroy him.

The cheesecake is a little burnt when you take it out of the oven but it actually adds more flavor to it so yeah, that's a win.

“We should drink,” you suggest.

“It’s mid-afternoon.”

“We drank at mid-afternoon yesterday,” you give him a blank stare. “With Alex and Charles, remember?”

He doesn't say anything as you make your way to his fridge and pull out two bottles of beer. Max has champagne stored somewhere but you have enough of those expensive champagnes. You need beer. Beer is good. Beer is nice. You're a beer type of person and it is time Max becomes one, too.

“I’m no scientist,” you begin, biting off the beer’s bottle cap. “But according to chemistry, alcohol is solution.”

Well, technically, edible alcohol or ethanol is not a mixture. Rather, it's a pure substance that happens to be a liquid at room temperature and typical atmospheric pressure. Pure ethanol is not a solution. Hard spirits though? That's a solution.

Beer is not a hard spirit. It's more of a fermented drink. But Max doesn't know that, though, so you don't bother explaining the science behind it.

Somewhere down the road, the two of you move to his living room. You use the Youtube app in his TV to search karaoke video and have the bestest time of your lives. You're screaming along some Daddy Yankee and El Alfa songs and Max doesn't know how to speak Spanish so he’s just vibing to it.

At 5 PM, you pull out Max’s expensive vodka bottle. Now this is the real shit. The ten bottles of beer? Those are just pregame. Max is already drunk with just those because he’s a pussy but you’re no pussy, so the only right answer is vodka! Viva la vodka or whatever.

Your throat gets tired of singing and Max gets tired from dancing, too, so you both decide to just go entertain yourselves in other ways. First, you introduced Max to beer-pong. He loses, of course. He sucks at everything not racing. Then, the two of you move onto chess. Max gives up mid-game. He cannot understand the rules. Then, lastly, you move to the billiard table Max owned. He only used it when the other guys are over and you do not even know why he bought it when he sucked at playing billiards.

“You know what Kelly said the morning before the race?” Max suddenly says and you look up at him, brow raising slightly. He’s drunk; his skin is flushed and he is all giggly and smile-y as he sits on the billiard table’s side rail and using the billiard stick as some sort of support stand to keep him from falling. You hope he won't accidentally poke himself. You're no better, too. Ten beer bottles and a few glasses of vodka. But you’re not as drunk as Max, and you still have a straight vision and you can still sink the colored balls into the pockets of the billiard table.

“Hm?”

“That it was unfair for her.”

You raise a questioning brow, “Why?”

“I bought shoes and they don't fit her.”

You blink. He laughs at himself as if he has uttered the funniest joke in the world.

“Three years of relationship gone because of a single pair of shoes,” he continues. “She wanted those shoes, too.”

Kelly….what the fuck?

“But that's okay. She….She made me open my eyes, you know? She made me realize what I truly love.”

“Racing.” It's not even a question. It's the truth.

Max stares at you, long and hard, and you look away first because you fear that if you allow yourself to stare too long, you’ll drown in those beautiful blues. This is enough heartache for the day. No need to add more.

“Hey [Name],” he begins. “If I asked you to kiss me, would you do it?”

#manager!reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #f1 x reader #f1 imagines #formula one #fanfic #angst #mv1 #mv33 x reader #mv33

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chrisevansonly · 9 months

Text

𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 | 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜

✯social media post

✯charles leclerc x female reader

✯you and charles are obsessed with each other and you make sure everyone knows it

✯back with another little charles post cause he’s my #1 🥹

yninstagram

liked by charles_leclerc, apmmonaco, lilyhme and 650,000 others

let’s go back so we can make out in the ocean more 😁

tagged charles_leclerc

see 87,000 comments

username y/n is back to being down bad for charles

username thirsty on the main hours

lilyhme BODY!!!!!

>yninstagram all for you baby😚

username charles im fighting you get ready

charles_leclerc yes let’s go right now

charles_leclerc cant believe i get you all to myself🤤

>yninstagram all yours baby💋

arthur_leclerc deleting instagram now

>yninstagram YOU CAN RUN BUT YOU CANNOT HIDE

charles_leclerc added to their story!

*comments disabled*

yninstagram

liked by wagsoff1, charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari and 1M others

monaco gp weekend lets go, forza charles!! (and ferrari too ofc) thanks for looking so yummy all the time baby♥️

tagged charles_leclerc

see 198,000 comments

username um first pic?!😮‍💨

username charles can you fight? istg you got it coming

username my fav couple ever

charles_leclerc amour….

charles_leclerc im sweating a bit at this

>carlossainz55 no he’s actually sweating it’s concerning

charles_leclerc get over here immediately 😁♥️

liked by yninstagram

username CHARLES HAHAHAHA

username y/n makes charles fold like a lawn chair every time

arthur_leclerc oh dear god😭

>yninstagram 😁

>charles_leclerc😁

yninstagram added to their story!

*comments disabled*

charles_leclerc

liked by yninstagram, carlossainz55, joris_trouche and 2M others

only the best views in Monaco❤️

tagged yninstagram

username HELLO?!

username oh charles is gone 😂

yninstagram babe….the first photo…?

>charles_leclerc best view of them all amour😉

yninstagram god you’re lucky i’m obsessed with you…cause i am and i love you a lot you sneaky devil ❤️

>charles_leclerc i am innocent, but i love you too😁❤️

username DAMN Y/N!

arthur_leclerc THATS IT IM BLOWING MY PHONE UP

>yninstagram sorry arth 🥹🫶🏻

username the day the world collapsed

arthur_leclerc

liked by charles_leclerc, f1gossip, yninstagram and 768,000 others

don’t worry everyone i’m taking charles and y/n’s phones away so we can all feel safe scrolling again, thank me later 😁

tagged charles_leclerc and yninstagram

username HAHAHA ARTHUR

username look at that lil smug smile 😭

username oh this is hilarious

charles_leclerc mate you’re losing it

>arthur_leclerc my eyesight? yes.

yninstagram okay but i look cute in that photo 🥹

liked by charles_leclerc

yninstagram i’m sorry arthur, forgive me!!!!

>arthur_leclerc maybe….if you make my favourite cookies again

>yninstagram deal!!

>charles_leclerc im not sorry for the record 😎

username PLEASE IM DEAD

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ebsmind · 4 months

Text

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐯 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 ❀ tom blyth x fem!actress reader

summary : reader is tom’s gf and stars in the new A Good Girls Guide to Murder (book to tv adaptation) as Andie Bell

warnings : none besides reader playing a dead girl in a tv series

a/n : i can’t believe i caved…. BUT IDC THIS WAS SO FUN TO MAKE 😼

also everyone in the orginal casting for aggtm is the same (except andie ofc)

and ofc i just wanted to tag and say thank you to my fav people on here 🫶🏻 yall are one of the main reasons why i did this 💗 @ghostfacd @marvelsswansong @goosita @maysileeewrites i love yall!!!

ynuser a + s ❤️

tagged : @/hojay92 & @/rahulpattni27

view all comments

tomblyth so proud of you my darling ❤️

↳ ynuser i love you

↳ user1 STOP I CANNOT

ememyers my fav dead girl 🫶🏻

↳ ynuser PLS PEOPLE ARE GONNA THINK IM ACTUALLY DEAD

user1 ur literally the only one who could play andie

user2 slayed the house down houston i’m deceased

user3 please tell me you read the series before auditioning

↳ ynuser yup i did 😼

↳ tomblyth you’re such a bookworm 🙃

user4 PLS TOM CALLING HER A BOOKWORM THEY’RE SO CUTEEEE

rahulpattni27 the andie to my sal 🖤

↳ ynuser always 🤍

hojay92 MY BABIES

❤️ by creator

user5 pls if i was tom i would be weary of y/n and rahul bc they’re a little too friendly

↳ user6 u need to chill they are literally costars who play each others love interests

rachelzegler gonna read the books just so i can watch this show

↳ ynuser rachel in her bookworm era??

user7 slay

user8 MOTHERRRRR

tomblyth quick trip to paris with lovie

tagged : @/ynuser

view all comments

ynuser you make me so happy

↳ tomblyth and you make me the happiest man alive

↳ user1 pls i want what they have

ynuser also can we pls talk about how happy i was to see the eiffel tower 😭😭

↳ user2 the video he posted of you squealing when the tower shimmered 🥺

user3 can y/n fight? bc the all black fit is doing something to me

↳ ynuser my mom made me take karate when i was 7

↳ user3 OHHHH?????

user4 god i love my parents

rachelzegler where was my invite???

↳ joshandresrivera leave the love birds alone babe

❤️ by creator

user5 rachel just like me fr

user6 tom NEEDS to put a ring on it before i do

rachelzegler just posted on their story!

ynuser trailer for aggtm is out now!! go watch it 🤍🕵🏻‍♀️

tagged : @/ememyers & @/hojay92

view all comments

ememyers 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

❤️ by creator

user1 BRO THE TRAILER IS SOOOO GOOD I CANT WAIT!!!

user2 y/n was born to play andie

tomblyth so incredibly proud of you!! you killed it ❤️

↳ rahulpattni27 she truly did!!!

↳ ynuser awwww thank you guys!!! i love you both 🤍

user3 tom and rahul interacting??? oh my

user4 SLAY

rahulpattni27 ❤️❤️❤️

❤️ by creator

holjay92 my baby!!! the perfect andie 🥺

↳ ynuser momma!!! ily

user5 holly 🤝🏼 supporting all of her kids

user6 just by the looks of the trailer this show is gonna be SO GOOD

oliviarodrigo can’t wait to watch!!! i miss you

↳ ynuser i miss you more!!

user7 tom being so supportive >>>

rachelzegler you played the best dead girl there could ever be

↳ ynuser bae ily 💗💗

↳ tomblyth ummm what about me???

#this was so fun to make!!!#tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth x you #social media #social media au #coriolanus snow #billy the kid #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #ebs writes thing!#userebs

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navnae · 1 year

Text

I don’t think people realize how Eddie’s death would deeply affect Steve especially since Eddie was probably the only older male in the entire show that liked Steve. He finally had someone he could relate to and bond with until it was taken away from him in a second. All the things that he hasn’t opened up to Robin about maybe Eddie could’ve helped him open up more, it kills me that we’ll never know what their relationship platonic or not could’ve been.

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drysdalesworld · 3 months

Text

completely serious

jamie drysdale x fem!hughes!reader

ik the third pic is him wearing a ducks jersey but there’s nothing really of him in flyers gear that fit what i was looking for, so let’s just pretend <3

y/n.hughes just posted!

liked by trevorzegras, jackhughes, and more

y/n.hughes: to a new era baby! hope philly treats you well 🧡🧡 (please take care of him flyers or i will violently cry)

tagged: jamie.drysdale, philadelphiaflyers

( loading comments ! )

trevorzegras: i too will violently cry

lhughes_06: so this is where you took your impromptu trip to

y/n.hughes: & what about it

userone: still can’t believe it tbh 😭

yourbestie: she very much will! philadelphiaflyers

yourroommate: she cried upon hearing the news

philadelphiaflyers: we will take great care of jamie! do not worry 🧡

philadelphiaflyers: we will make sure to water him daily & make sure he gets enough sunlight 🫡

usertwo: stopp!! the way they are describing him as a house plant 😂 i cant

mfrost16: we’ll take him out on walks too!

userthree: now he’s a dog 😭😭

userfour: i mean he did bark his first game with the flyers userthree

jackhughes: i will not be picking up the pieces if she starts to violently sob

lhughes_06: you never do

_quinnhughes: i do that

_quinnhughes: when have you ever done that bro

jackhughes: i feel attacked rn

userfive: the way the flyers flew BOTH y/n & jamie’s parents out for his first game 😭😭 warms my heart

usersix: they did?

userfive: yep! during his post game interview, someone asked if the flyers flew anyone else out for jamie & he said that he wouldn’t play if they didn’t fly y/n out as well! (jokingly of course)

usersix: that’s so freaking cute 😖

jamie.drysdale: i was completely serious userfive

philadelphiaflyers: he, in fact, was completely serious userfive

userseven: UGH GOALS 💞💞

usereight: they’ll treat him well y/n!

jamie.drysdale: i’ll miss you so much love 🤍 i’ll have the flyers fly you out whenever (& if not, then i will)

y/n.hughes: i’ll miss you more!! im so so proud of you & can’t wait to see the amazing things you’ll accomplish in philly ❤️❤️

philadelphiaflyers: y/n’s apart of the team already! we’ll fly her out whenever you want jim! just say the word ✈️✈️

y/n.hughes just posted!

liked by luca.fantilli, masonmctavish23, and more

y/n.hughes: jamie photo dump during these trying & sad times

tagged: jamie.drysdale

( loading comments ! )

trevorzegras: the fifth picture is evil y/n. why you got to do my boy like that? (please send it to me asap)

y/n.hughes: check your messages babes 😚

trevorzegras: bless girl hughes 🙏🙏

userone: another shoe tying pic!!!

lhughes_06: uhhh, why am i not tagged in the sixth pic?? i so graciously taught your bf how to wake board & this is the thanks i get??

y/n.hughes: thank you so much luke for teaching my boyfriend how to wake board & almost kill him in the process 😑

lhughes_06: i am an amazing teacher! he did not almost die

jackhughes: dude, you almost broke his nose when you both went down after YOU jumped on him

lhughes_06: i do not recall such a thing

jamie.drysdale: i will let the fifth picture slide just this once bc i miss & love you so much 🥰 (also, almost died in the last pic 💀)

jackhughes: SEE!! lhughes_06

lhughes_06: 🎶 i cant see i’m blinnndddd🎶👨‍🦯

y/n.hughes: love & miss you more 🤍🫶🏼

_quinnhughes: the lake house that summer will forever be burned into my brain

usertwo: in a good way? 😀

userthree: THE FUCKING ‘I ❤️ MY GIRLFRIEND’ TSHIRT 😫😫😫😫😫

yourroommate: i specifically remember the first pic like it was yesterday

userfour: babes spill! what happened!!

yourroommate: y/n was not having a good week so jamie flew out for the weekend & showed up with flowers & wearing that exact shirt userfour

yourbestie: he said, and i quote, “i saw this shirt on tiktok & though you’d like it” & y/n proceeded to cry :) userfour yourroommate

y/n.hughes: why am i and my bf being exposed in this comment thread?? 🙃

userfive: WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT THE GOLF PIC 😫😫

y/n.hughes just posted to their story!

caption: from #6 to #9, here’s to new beginnings! jamie.drysdale

#drysdalesworld works!#drysdalesworld #hockey #hockey x reader #nhl x reader #jamie drysdale #jamie drysdale x hughes!reader #jamie drysdale x reader #social media au #smau #hughes!sister #hughes!reader

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imaslutforwritingshit · 7 months

Text

Things Ethan Landry would text you if you were his s/o (Part 2)

Gender neutral, contains sexting/smut

Warnings- knifeplay fantasies, sadism fantasies, killer trope.

tags!- @nowitsmissing

THREE THOUSAND MILES

Y/n: i miss u sm

Y/n: im thinking of you

Ethan: I miss you too.

Y/n: what’s it like? the forest?

Ethan: it smells like shit. The only good thing about this cabin is how vacant the area is.

Y/n: now, how many people have you already killed on your family vacation, ethan?

Ethan: zero

Y/n: i don’t believe u

Ethan: it’s tempting. I would line up their bodies and impale them like the Voivode of Wallachia.

Y/n: huh?

Ethan: I need you teach you about history, pretty girl. You seem to lack knowledge in the cruelest dictators of all time.

Y/n: like adolf hitler? not really a flex to have nazis in your brain

Ethan: No no no. Like, the most inspiring and overall good torturers.

Y/n: is anyone who tortures people a good person?

Ethan: I am.

Y/n: you’re a very bad person, ethan. no need to hide the truth from me.

Y/n: i like you for your darkness

Ethan: yeah?

Y/n: yeah

Ethan: would you still like me if I had a knife to your body?

Ethan: slicing scars into your skin

Ethan: making you mine

Y/n: what if I would?

Ethan: then you would be a fucking idiot.

Y/n: anything for you.

Ethan: Anything? Don’t tempt me.

Y/n: but I enjoy it so so much.

Ethan: if I was in town I would be by your house already

Ethan: i would open your window

Ethan: and fuck you so hard you would be begging me to stop

Ethan: I would choke you until you were seeing stars. I would force you to look at me

Ethan: watch me as I fucked you

Y/n: I want you so bad

Y/n: i would beg for it if it means I’d have you again

Ethan: slut

Ethan: you’re so weak. my fucking toy.

Ethan: I can’t believe how pathetic you are. I could have you my way, fuck you until you’re bleeding, and screaming

Ethan: I could kill you.

Y/n: the thrill of that excites me

Ethan: you really are a whore

Y/n: don’t act like you don’t enjoy it

Y/n: the thought of me so obedient to you.

Ethan: Oh, I’m not acting.

Y/n: I think you’re the whore, ethan

Y/n: fantasizing about me

Y/n: i bet your dirty mind can’t stop thinking of me stripping

Y/n: pleasing you

Ethan: god

Y/n: ?

Y/n: what?

Ethan: i can’t keep my hand out of my pants when i text you

Y/n: you’re touching yourself?

Ethan: yeah

Y/n: what are you thinking about?

Ethan: bending you over

Ethan: choking you while I fuck that tight body

Ethan: seeing you turn white with fear

Y/n: im touching myself too

Ethan: good

Y/n: i miss your cock inside of me

Y/n: im so empty without you

Ethan: fuck

Ethan: i’m so close

Y/n: me too

Ethan: not yet

Y/n: please

Y/n: im edging myself

Ethan: i thought you liked the pain

Y/n: i do

Ethan: so endure it.

Ethan: you’re making me feral

Ethan: i’m gonna cum

Y/n: please

Y/n: i cant take it anymore

Ethan: fuck

Ethan: i’m cumming

Y/n: i already did

Ethan: so desperate

Y/n: i miss your body so much

Ethan: you know what you do to me? I’m grinding my hips into my fist. my body is wet with my cum

Ethan: I had to bite my lip to stop from screaming your name

Y/n: id kill for you.

Ethan: I’ve already killed for you.

Y/n: I love you

Ethan: you shouldn’t.

Y/n: i can’t control the way you make my nerves catch on fire

Ethan: when I get home I’m gonna ruin you

Ethan: keep your window unlocked

Ethan: i can’t wait to see you shaking for me

Ethan: i love you too

Y/n: take a picture of a bear for me

Ethan: there’s no bears in this forest

Y/n: you’ll figure it out

Ethan: ig so

Ethan: anything for you, my love

Y/n: :)

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vodika-vibes · 2 months

Note

May I please get a Tech x Jedi!Reader with a glimpse before and after Order 66. Techs POV where after figuring out that the jedi are being hunted becomes worried. Im thinking White Clover and Pansy and maybe angst/fluff? :>

ps i love your work and i cant wait to read anything you make, youre amazing :3

A Promise Made

Summary: You and Tech, before Order 66 and after.

Pairing: TBB Tech x F!Reader

Word Count: 2983

Warning: Angst, Reader survived Order 66 and has totally understandable trauma regarding that

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: I'm still not sure if I'm writing Tech well, but I haven't got any complaints.

“Is there a reason you are laying on me?” Tech asks as he looks down at the Jedi sprawled across his lap, her gaze locked on the datapad in her hand.

“I don’t get to spend nearly enough time with you, and this is the best way to keep you from accidentally ignoring me.” She replies lightly, “Why? Are you uncomfortable?”

“No. I am just concerned that you might get hurt.” Tech answers easily.

“So be careful and you won’t hurt me.”

He rolls his eyes expressively, though because she’s not looking at him, she doesn’t notice. “What are you working on, cyare?”

“Master Windu asked me to reverse engineer a Seppie weapon, and I’m starting to think that this weapon was designed by an actual child.” She says with a sigh as she drops her datapad and presses her forehead against his thigh.

Tech smiles at the back of her head, “Would you like me to take a look?”

At that she laughs and rolls over so that her head is resting on his lap and she’s looking up at him, “I know you have better things to do, Tech.”

He sets his own project to the side, and gently brushes her hair out of her face, “I do not mind putting it aside to help you.”

She reaches up and presses her hands against his, lightly rubbing her cheek against his gloved hand. “That’s because you’re amazing.” She praises, “But it’s okay, Tech. I can figure it out. I always do.”

Tech smiles at her adoringly.

When he was a cadet on Kamino, he believed that this kind of happiness was beyond him. He did not understand why his brothers, including his batchmates, were so laser focused on finding someone to spend their time with. He thought that it was little more than a distraction.

That was until he met her.

She had been brought to Kamino at the request of General Ti, and the first time Tech saw her, he didn’t think she was a Jedi. He thought she was a natborn who had been tasked with maintenance of the various vehicles stored on Kamino.

She was clever and quick witted, and while his twin claimed that she wasn’t going to win any beauty pageants, on account of the fact that she tended to have oil on her face and staining her hands, and she didn’t seem to care about things like appearance, Tech thought that she was stunning.

They developed a quick friendship, bonding over their mutual love of technology.

Tech honestly had no idea that she was a Jedi at all, not until he saw her dressed up in Jedi robes rather than her normal grease covered jumpsuit, and talking to General Ti like it was her right.

The conversation that happened after that isn’t one that Tech is proud of. He had been hurt that she hid such an important part of her from him, and he lashed out. She was offended that he thought that she was hiding it, claiming that she never hid anything from anyone, and that it wasn’t her fault that he didn’t know that she was a jedi.

The disagreement turned into a full blown argument, and Tech didn’t talk to her for over two months. It took Hunter and Crosshair teaming up to make him see that he was being bull-headed and stubborn, and it was the encouragement of Wrecker that forced him to go to her and apologize.

At the time, he had been worried that she was going to hold a grudge, but she didn’t. Instead she just smiled and laughed, and told him that she forgave him, and then she showed him what she was working on.

Soon after that, Tech realized that he was thinking about her all the time. When he was in training, when he was reading, even when he was about to go to sleep; her smile, the way her eyes crinkle when she laughs, the way she pushes her hand through her hair when she’s contemplating something complicated-

He found himself looking forward to spending time with her, even if they’re just working in the same room.

It was Crosshair who pointed out the obvious, with a roll of his eyes as he flipped through a magazine. “You’re obviously in love with her, dumbass.” He drawled without looking up from the glossy pages of the blaster magazine that he got from somewhere, “It’s a perfect match, you’re both annoying little shits.”

Tech wanted to argue with him, partly because he feels the urge to argue with his twin about everything, but he found the words turning to ash on his tongue. Because, annoyingly, he was right.

Tech was in love.

He became awkward and nervous around her, babbling about random things that he learned, and through it all, she watched him with a small smile, and often asked questions about his latest hyperfixation.

And then, late one night, she kissed him.

A gentle press of her lips against his. It was innocent and chaste, and yet it sent fire through his veins. She didn’t say anything after the kiss, she just watched him and waited, seeming to understand that Tech would need a moment to process.

And then he kissed her, and suddenly he understood exactly why his brothers desire this so much.

“Tech?” He snaps back to the present at the worried call of his name, and he glances down at her face, “There you are. You were lightyears away.” She teases.

“I was thinking about you.”

“Oh? Nice things, I hope.”

He laughs, “I always think about you, cyare. You occupy my thoughts at all times.”

“Well, that sounds annoying.”

“Not at all,” Tech lightly guides her until she’s sitting up and he presses a series of light kisses to her cheek and across her jaw, “I find that it is the most enjoyable part of my day.”

“Well, you’re easy to please, aren’t you?” She teases as she leans into his affection.

“My brothers tell me that I am very hard to please, actually.”

“Well, they’re not me.” She turns her head and kisses him quickly, “So you know, you’re constantly in my thoughts too.”

Tech laughs softly and presses a series of light kisses across her face, “I am glad.”

She grins at him, and shifts to sit on his lap, her hands coming up to cup his face, “Tech, I…” She pauses, and her gaze flickers to the side, “I want you to know that I have to return to Coruscant for a couple of weeks. I would like it if you commed me?”

Tech has a feeling that that’s not what she was going to say, but he lets it go, “Of course I will. So much that you will get tired of me.”

She laughs, “I don’t think that’s possible.”

“You never know,” Tech kisses her one more time, “When do you leave?”

“Two days.”

“Well then, we had better spend that time together.”

It has been three weeks and four days since the day that the Clones turned on the Jedi. And somehow, you’re still alive. Which, in and of itself, is a damned miracle.

You press your hand over your side, a slow hiss of pain escaping your lips as you move the wrong way and the hole in your side twinges painfully.

When the clones marched on the workshop, you had been in the back, working on one of the protocol droids. You managed to escape while the older jedi tried to fend off the soldiers, but you still took a blaster bolt to the side.

Not to mention, you’re still reeling from the loss of your friends, your family.

You push the pain into the force, and take a moment to tighten the bandages around your side, before you continue your trek. It’s not safe for you anywhere.

And as much as you want to comm Tech and beg him to come and help you…you know that you better not. Tech is a clone after all. And if he pulled a blaster on you, you’d probably just let him kill you, honestly.

No. It’s safer this way.

Though, the galaxy is a much lonelier place now.

Time passes quickly, when you’re on the run. And before you know it, 6 months have passed.

You’re…surviving as best you can, all things considered. You managed to find a medic who treated your blaster wound in exchange for some simple maintenance work, and you managed to earn employment on a cargo ship.

Though, really, you mostly just bounce from ship to ship, from planet to planet, as much as you can. You don’t stay in the same place for longer than a few weeks, fearing that the empire will find you.

You take comfort from the memory of your family, and from Tech. You cling to those memories, as they’re the only thing that keep you going. And sometimes, at night, you allow your mind to linger on Tech, on what could have been.

It’s easier now, though.

After six months, you no longer feel like the Empire is breathing down your neck, and for all you know, you’ve been reported dead. You don’t dare to look, fearing that if you look and you weren’t, then the Empire will start looking for you.

It doesn’t make any sense, you know that, but it’s an anxiety that you can’t seem to shake.

“Hey, Kid!” You jump as the ship captain, your current employer, claps your shoulder with a heavy hand, “Me an’ the boys are going to the bar. Wanna join us?”

“Ah…no thank you. Trying to stay sober,” You say with an easy smile, “You guys have fun.”

“Right, sorry kid. I forgot. You keep up that sobrarity! We’re rooting for you.”

You smile at him, feeling momentarily guilty. Your story, the one that you’ve been using since the purge, is that you’re a recovering alcoholic, and that’s why you want to work on ships, to avoid temptation.

It’s not true. But it keeps people from hounding you to go drinking with them. And, more than one of the people you’ve worked with over the past few months have bemoaned your “parents” for not helping you with your addictions.

It’s almost like having a family again.

Almost.

You step off the cramped ship into the cool evening air, wanting to stretch your legs for a bit, when you hear a familiar voice and feel a familiar presence in the force.

“Hey, that person might know!” You’d recognize Wrecker’s force presence even if you were doped up on force suppressors, and the child standing next to him has the same overall feel as all of the chones.

Your blood runs cold. Wrecker will recognize you. How could he not?

He approaches you, and your mind goes blank. Your fingers twitch towards your lightsaber, hidden in your sleeve. You don’t want to hurt Wrecker. But you will if you have to.

“Excuse me, miss?” The child stops in front of you, and you look down at her. Blonde hair, wide brown eyes…she’s a clone, no doubt about it. “Me and my brother are looking for a specific shop-”

“I…I’m sorry, I’ve never been here before.” You keep your voice low, in the hopes that Wrecker won’t hear you. But you know there’s not a chance of it, not with how close he is to you.

Surprise flashes across his face, followed by joy, “It’s you! Tech has been worried sick! We all have-” He takes a step towards you, and you scramble backwards, grabbing your saber and lighting it with the comforting snap.

“Stop! Just…just stop.” You sputter, “I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if I have to.”

Wrecker stops, “Right. Okay.” He pulls Omega back, “No one’s going to hurt you.”

“Sure.”

Wrecker slowly sends a message to his brothers, and then holds his hands out, showing that he’s unarmed.

Tech, Hunter, and Echo run up only moments later, and Hunter has to grab Tech from running over to you.

“It is just us, cyare.” Tech says, pulling himself away from Hunter, “We are not going to hurt you.”

Your lightsaber is crossed across your body defensively, and slowly you reach out to the force, looking for the, arguably, most dangerous member of the CF99 at the moment. “Where’s Crosshair?” You ask.

“He is…not here.” Tech says quietly.

“You expect me to believe that your own twin isn’t here, I’m not that dumb, Tech.”

“He…” Tech falters, “Listen, his chip activated, ours didn’t. So when we defected, he didn’t.”

“What chips? What are you talking about?” You demand, and their faces fall.

“You…don’t know.” Hunter says quietly, “Stars, you must have thought we turned on you for no reason-”

“It would be nice to know what crime my people committed to deserve to be slaughtered down to the smallest baby, yes.” You bite out.

“It wasn’t…there…” Echo trails off and he takes a deep breath, “Tech, you need to talk to her. Just, tell her the truth. All of it. She’s a jedi, she’ll know if you’re lying.”

Tech nods, and he steps in front of his brothers, his gaze locked on you, “I am going to tell you everything that I know,” He says quietly, and then he starts talking.

And slowly, as he explains, you lower your saber and then turn it off. And by the time Tech finishes his story, you’re sitting on a small crate with your face in your hands. “My people were slaughtered by your brothers because Palpatine stole their free will from them?”

“Yes.”

Both of your hands fist in your hair, “...’m sorry for drawing my saber on you.”

Tension drains from the men standing across from you, and the next thing you know, Tech’s hands are on your shoulders, “It is okay. You had every right to be concerned.” He kneels in front of you, “Are you injured?”

“I was shot at the temple, but that was months ago.” You say quietly.

“And…you are alright?”

“No.” You whisper, “It’s a very lonely galaxy, Tech.”

Tech raises himself enough to press a kiss to your forehead, “You do not have to be alone. You can travel with us. Right, Hunter?”

“Of course.” Hunter replies immediately.

“See.”

“That’s kind of you, but I know your ship isn’t that big.”

“With the both of us, we can retrofit.” Tech offers, “We can make room for all of us.” He takes your hands in his, “Please do not leave.”

“You won’t be safe if I travel with you. I’m a Jedi.”

“We are not safe anyway.” Tech points out, “Please, cyare? I promise that we will be safer together.”

You sigh, and very gently squeeze his hands, “Yeah, okay. The crew that I’m a part of now won’t be surprised if I decide to leave without warning.”

“Truely?”

“I have something of a reputation.” You reply dryly.

“...it has been 6 months.” You shrug, and allow Tech to tug you to your feet, before he wraps you in a tight hug. “I feared you were dead.”

“I’m sorry.”

Tech’s gaze lingers on her as she dozes in his bunk, his fingers are tangled in her hair as he silently offers her comfort.

She doesn’t look healthy.

She’s too thin, her clothes hang off of her, and the circles under her eyes are dark enough that it looks like she has bruises around her eyes. She hasn’t been eating properly, obviously, and Tech wonders if it’s because of grief or fear.

And there’s no way he’s ever going to forget the look in her eyes when she saw them again. Dread, fear, terror-

He never wanted her to look at him like that again.

Tech smooths his hand down her spine, and carefully adjusts the blanket so it’s tucked under her chin.

He knew the moment that the regs turned on General Billaba, that his cyare was in danger. The dread had been like a lead weight in his stomach. And while he would have spoken to Crosshair about it, he could tell that there was something wrong with his twin.

Not to mention, Crosshair had never been her biggest fan in the first place.

So he bit his tongue, and kept an eye on the list of deceased Jedi, and he hoped.

It wasn’t very logical.

But the longer he didn’t see her name, the longer he had hope that she was still alive.

She shifts in his bed, rolling over to press her face against his thigh, and Tech presses his hand against the back of her head. The Marauder really isn’t big enough to add another adult, so she’s going to have to share with him for the time being.

Which isn’t half as much of a problem as he’s making it out to be, nothing would make him happier than waking up with her in his arms, but the last thing he wants is for her to forget where she is and freak out.

Luckily, the dread he felt when he heard about the jedi being hunted has faded into something much easier to handle, now he just has the sinking dread of having to help her deal with the trauma of surviving a massacre.

Easy.

Tech glances down at his datapad, and settles back against his pillow as he starts to read on how to help people process trauma.

If he can’t get his cyare to a mind healer, then he’ll just have to become one himself.

Tech glances at her one more time as her fingers curl in the soft material of his pajama bottoms, and he smiles at her sleeping face. He gently brushes some hair out of her face, “I promise,” He whispers, “I am going to take care of you.”

#star wars #tbb #vodika-vibes follower celebration #tbb tech x reader #tech x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks

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