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rakurairagnarok · 4 months

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I dedicate this story to my good friend and writing buddy @idesofrevolution. Merry Christmas buddy and please PLEASE Enjoy. Happy holidays to everyone and Happy TF's.

A Green Christmas

`What!!`

Ryan screamed at the news.

You sighed.

´I have no choice, my family has to move, and I have to go as well, I don´t have any accommodation here.´

Ryan grumbled. `Bro... you can´t leave me man... you´re my best bud.´

You grimaced. Your friend had been acting weird lately. You used to be super close, and you honestly still are, but your interests had began to shift. You used to play games, watch cartoons and study together, but lately Ryan had become absent from you life. He had been ´busy´ with other things but his grades had been plummeting and he had picked up smoking. Ryan had no idea you knew this, but you had seen the pictures from your classmates. His wardrobe had changed too. Before he would wear shirts and khakis, now its oversized shirts and hoodies. He started wearing contacts as well, which, to be honest, was a great look for him, he looked very handsome without glasses. His lingo had switched as well. No more academic jargon. Just simple sentences, which almost always had at least one bro in them.

`Look Ryan, I really am sorry, but I just can´t make this work´

Your family was moving, and while you were a college student, who by all accounts should have received some form of scholarship due to your amazing grades, you never did. The truth however, was that you wanted to move. The alienating feeling you got from your former best friend broke something in you, and you had to put some distance between eachother. You could easily apply for the on-campus dormitories but you just couldn`t bear staying near the now almost stranger.

`Look you´d better go, I want to be home before Christmas and I still have a lot of packing to do.'

Ryan sighed and left. After closing the door behind him, You let out a grunt.

"Why does it have to be this way! What happend to him?"

Reluctantly you began packing. Your father would come and get you and your things on Christmas eve, so you had your work cut out for you. You were currently staying Ryan, but this had always been a temporary solution. Ryan's landlord didn't want two friends staying together only couples or families. Ryan had become quite open to you about his sexuality. He had told you he was bisexual and that he could always tell the landlord the two of you were dating, but you had declined. You had a hard enough time not getting picked on. If word would get out that you two were dating, you would not be able to survive. What Ryan didn't know is that you were in fact also bisexual. You really liked girls but men really were where you got your satisfaction. From porn that is, because you were still a virgin. You grew up in a strict Christian household, with a Father from the south. Your parents would never approve and they were the reason you didn't have to work, so coming out was never an option.

A loud knock shook you from your deep train of thought. You opened the door and Ryan was standing right there, smiling.

"Steven, can we talk bro?"

"Ryan, I told you. I need to pack for..."

"Please, just for a little while."

"...Fine..."

Ryan walked in and sat down on your bed.

"Look man... I've been thinking... I need to be honest with you about something."

You looked at your former best friend with confusion. He had been so dominant and confident these last few weeks, and all of a sudden he looked shy and insecure.

"I... I picked up smoking... and... not just cigarettes. Weed too"

You sighed.

"I know Ryan, I have seen you. Don't worry, it's whatever... Your body, your choice."

Ryan smiled.

"Yeah for reallll broo but, I wanted to ask you a favor."

"What is it?" You asked, slightly impatient.

"Come sit down first" Ryan had this shit eating grin on his face, his perfect white teeth on display. Wait that doesn't sound right. he had braces right?

Because you took so long, Ryan grabbed your arm and pulled you onto the bed, right next to him.

"What the hell man!" You exclaimed.

He quickly wraps an arm around your shoulders, his musky scent drilling into your nose, and holds something up to your face.

"I really, really want to smoke this with you man. Like dying wish and shit."

You look down and see a blunt in between his fingers.

"I don't smoke Ryan, you know this" You point out.

" Just one hit bro, that's all, I won't tell anyone, you don't have to smoke any more, just humor me with this man."

You took a deep breath and wanted to decline, but then something clicked.

"You know what. Sure."

Ryan's grin widened. 'Let's fucking go bro!!!" He quickly grabbed a lighter, and lit the blunt.

He took the first hit, blowing the smoke right into your face, the fumes invading your nose and throat, leaving you gasping for air.

"Sorry there bro, just wanted to give you a little taste."

"I'm only taking one hit bro... fuck" Your eyes widen not only did you just curse, something which you rarely do, you also just used bro in your sentence. Hoping he didn't notice you hold out your hand to take the blunt.

Ryan, who's grinning from ear to ear, hands you the blunt, and you quickly take a hit. You deeply inhale, feeling the smoke fill your lungs and the weed invade your brain. A single hit, and you can almost feel your brain stopping.

"W...whaaat the fuuuuuck" You mumble. Your jaw slacks a bit as the smoke escapes from your lips.

"You gonna take that hit or not bro?" Ryan asked with a sly grin on his face.

"Huh didn't I just?'' You asked confused.

"Bro are you already tripping? I just blew some smoke in your face man, thats all. Now come on bro, you promised."

You took a hit, taking a deep breath, feeling the smoke fill your lungs, and your whole body. Slowly blowing out you feel constricted. You look down to see your buttoned up shirt bulging. You tug on it a bit, and it flies open, revealing a chiseled abdomen and two meaty pecs.

"Brooo wat the fahk' You mumble. "My chest is so big... what the hell"

"Yeah bro I know right. I love that strain. Made me who I am today" Ryan smirks as he takes off his hoodie showing his massive arms and chest.

You look in awe as he stretches a bit, his smooth torso , and bulging muscles on display. He drops his sweats, showing off a massive bulge in his white briefs as he looks at you and smirks.

"Wanna take another hit bro?"

Before he even finished his sentence the blunt was back in your mouth, filling you up with even more smoke. You look down and begin to giggle as you bounce your growing pecs.

"Huhuhu broo they are so bigg... what the shit..." You say as a familiar musk begins radiating from your growing body.

Ryan smiles back.

"Yeah bro you're getting so fuckin huge. You're so hot"

You look at him with a flushed face.

"What... did you say?"

"You're hot. You look amazing."

"Thanks..." You can't help but blush, seeing as he himself is a fucking model.

"You're really hot yourself" You say with a beetred face

Ryan stops smiling and looks at you. He sits down and looks you in the eyes.

"I don't want you to go Stevey. I love you..."

Your eyes widen at the words, and before you know it, his lips get pressed against yours. Before you can react he pushes his tongue into your mouth, and a torrent of smoke follows suit. It's almost as if hes blowing you up, and it feels that way too, Your muscles getting bigger, your mind hazier, and your dick... well...

You manage to push away and look at him.

"Ry... I ... "

"yeah?"

"I think... no ... I know... I love you too man"

Ryan signature shit eating grin flies back onto his face.

"Fuck yeah bro!!"

A sheepish smile creeps onto your face as you grab the blunt from his fingers, taking a massive hit before grabbing his neck and blowing the smoke into his mouth.

"You're so sexy." You say as he blows the smoke back into your face.

"What about you then, such a fucking cute stud you are"

The two of you continue laughing, finishing the blunt before crawling into each others arms.

You text your dad that he doesn't have to come get you anymore, as you will be staying with your boyfriend, and promptly block him afterwards.

You nuzzled up to your boyfriends pit and took a deep breath. It smelled amazing and it bricked you up knowing you smell the same.

This will be a pretty special Christmas.

__________________________________________________________

Happy Holidays Everyone!!!! Feel free to send in some asks or order something at Rakurai Inc.!!!

#transformation #male muscle growth #rakurai #gay tf #male transformation #dumbing down #blunt #stoner #gift #bisexual #coming out #musk

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maxillness · 4 months

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If Daddy Knew || T.W x Horner!Reader

Warnings: 18+, hair pulling, oral (M&F reviving), handjob, fingering, degrading kink, praise kink

Wordcount: 2.1k

Part 2

If she knew how this would end up in the long term, she would had agreed to go with her father a lot sooner

She would always say no if she was invited to a Grand Prix and to come to the paddock

She hadn’t always been the most social person, and she was scared she would mess up her words or don’t talk at all

This time was different

She felt confident that day. She has been invited again, and she said yes. It surprised her father. He couldn’t understand why she said yes

She couldn’t either, but she’s glad she did

As she stood in the Red Bull garage, she kept feeling like she was stared down by people outside of the garage

And she was right. When she got to the paddock afterwards, people still kept staring her down as she walked with her father. He wanted to introduce her to all the drivers and team principals

It all went good, until they reached Mercedes

Don’t take it the wrong way, they were all very nice, but after she had greeted the drivers, she had to meet the team principal

Toto Wolff

She had heard about him through her father, now, of course she didn’t take his word for it. They were rivals after all, they’re bound to say bad stuff about each other that weren’t true

“Darling, this is Toto Wolff” He said his name through gritted teeth

“Hi. I’ve heard so much about you” He didn’t answer her, he just looked her up and down and went back to what he was doing

She would have said something about his rudeness, only if he hadn’t been so handsome

Maybe he was all those things her dad said

The rest of the day, she thought about Toto and if it was something she did or said to make him rude, or if it was just how he was

It finally became Sunday and she stood in the garage. She knew it was bad, but she kept starting at Toto from the distance

“You okay, dear?” Christian asked her as he walked over to her “You’ve been kinda starting out in the abyss” He chuckled

“Yeah, I’m fine, dad. Thank you” She nodded up at him

The race went well. Max won, no surprise there. We all knew he was gonna win. Even the opposite teams knew he was gonna win

That night, they all went out celebrating the win, even though it was routine that he won by now

She drank to keep the thoughts away. She really wanted to be on his good side, but how could she do that?

The next morning she woke up with a slight headache, but nothing a few painkillers couldn’t take away

Just as she was about to brush her teeth, her phone started ringing. It was an unknown number

“Y/N Horner” She answered the phone

“Hi, Y/N, it’s Toto Wolff” His accent was thick through the phone “I just wanted to apologise my behaviour when we met. I’m sure you’re aware that me and your father don’t have the bestest of friendship, that was the only reason why I didn’t say anything, and that’s no reason, I know, but I just wanted to apologise. Can I buy you some coffee to make up for it?”

She stood and thought about her answer a while “Yeah, that sounds nice. When?” She finally answered and she heard him sigh on the other end

“Great. Shall we say 12 o’clock at the Café across the street?” God, his accent was to swoon over

“Yeah. That’s perfect” A smirk drew on her lips. They hung up and she looked at the time. It was currently 10. She had two hours

Two hours would have been fine if she had anything to wear. She tried to look through her clothes. She tried all the combinations of clothing that was clean

She finally settled for an outfit after 45 minutes and some going back and forth trough clothes

Before she put on her clothes, she went to the bathroom to brush her teeth. She stood there for what felt like hours, but was actually only 10 minutes

She looked back at the clock after she got dressed and put on her shoes. 11:30. She debated if she should go now and be early, or if she should wait and be on time

She has only now realised she had forgotten her perfume. She founded and sprayed it lightly on the skin on her neck

She now decided to go out, but she should probably had waited. She bumped into her father in the hallway

“Where you going in such a hurry?” He chuckled as he looked her up and down

“I was just going out, checking the city out” She smiled innocently

“Okay. Have fun, don’t be out too late” He said to her before he continued to walk away

She continued to walk over to the elevator. The ride down to the lobby seemed like it took ages. She got to the lobby and walked out and across the street

She walked into the Café. She looked around to see if she could see Toto. She found him sitting at a booth up against the far wall. She sat down across him

“Hello, can I get you anything?” The waiter asked as she walked over to them

“I would like a coffee, black and a chocolate scone” Toto said as he looked from her to the waiter

“Can I get a hot chocolate and a croissant?” She asked as she looked up at her

“Of course. I’ll bring it down for you” She smiled and walked over to the counter

“I’m sorry for how I reacted, Y/N, I really am” He rambled and she just stared at him

“Toto, it’s fine. It’s no problem. I know how your relationship is with my dad, I totally understand” She smiled at him, trying to reassure him

“Yeah, I’m not friends with your dad, but I shouldn’t take that out on you” He sighed as he placed his hand on top of hers

“Toto, don’t worry about it, okay?” She smiled at him, looking him in his eyes through his glasses

All he did was nod before the waitress came over with their order. As they sat and drank their coffee and ate their food, they made small talk

The only annoying thing about this whole conversation was his smile. He would smile every so often, and it made her legs week

Everything that happened between that time and when they were in the elevator was a blur for her. All she knew was that she was pressed up against the elevators wall, her hands intertwined in his hair while his lips was on hers as his hands roamed her hips and waist

The ding of the elevator startled them. They hurried out into the hall and over to her room. She struggled a bit when she opened the door, but managed fine

As they got into the room, he pushed her up against the door. Her hands went to his waist, and in one swift motion, she had them turned around

Her hands went up his torso to unbutton his shirt. When she got the last button unbuttoned, she discarded the shirt on the ground

Her hand went to his hair to pull his head back so she could start attacking his necks with kisses and bites. He groaned at the sudden dominance from her. Her other hand went to unbuckle his belt

Toto covered his mouth with his hand to minimise the sounds that came out of him. She took her hand away from his belt and up to his hand to remove it from his mouth

“I want to hear your sounds, Toto” She said as she drew away from his neck, which drew out a groan from him “Fuck, you sounds so pretty” He could feel her smirk on his neck

She turned them around again, but this time, she guided him towards the bed, their shoes getting kicked off in the process

When the back off Toto’s legs hit the bed, she pushed him down to sit. She got on her knees and zipped down his pants

He bucked his up from the bed so she could pull down his pants and boxers. When she had gotten them off, she threw them beside her

She licked a stripe up his shaft before spitting into her hand, and started stroking him slowly. He started moaning low, almost silently

“Keep up those sounds, I wanna hear you, baby” She told him as she looked up at him from between his knees

Her words could make him undone right then and there “Fuck, I want your mouth around me, please” His voice was getting desperate and his accent was getting heavier

She removed her hand, but quickly replaced it with her mouth. His moans got louder as she started moving her head up and down

He started bucking his hips up, trying to fuck her mouth, but her hands came up to push him back down to stop his movements, which makes him groan in annoyance

“Fucking shit, Ah…” He wasn’t making any effort to swallow his moans “Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Fuck, please. I’m so-Ah. I’m so close” His head leaned back and his eyes rolled to the back of his head

His hand was shaking when he drew it up to his face to take off his glasses as they started fogging up. He got them off and threw them on the ground, not caring if they broke or not

“I can’t- Ah. Fuck, please, I can’t take it anymore” His words didn’t stop her actions, if it did anything, it made her faster

A few seconds later and he came down her throat. She held her head down as he finished. She got off of him and swallowed his loath

He was panting hard when she stood up. She took his chin between her fingers making him look at her. She kissed him deeply, making him taste himself on her tongue

“Think you can return the favour?” She asked seductively. With closed eyes, he nodded “Good. Get on your knees” He quickly got on his knees where she once sat as she herself sat on the bed

She leaned back, her weight resting on her hands. She watched as his trembling hands tried opening the button on her jeans

She chuckled seeing him struggling “God you’re pathetic” She pushed his hands away to do it herself. She lifted her hips so he could pull down her pants and panties throwing them away with the rest of the clothes on the floor

He pulled her close to the edge of the bed, and therefore closer to his mouth. He drew his tongue through her soaking folds

“What wouldn’t my father say, hm?” She drew one of her hands through his soft, brown locks when he started attacking her clit

“His biggest rival eating out his daughter” He groaned into her cunt from her degrading, making her moan “What don’t you think he will do? Most likely kill you, or maybe, he would never invite me again to keep me as far away from you as possible so this could never happen again”

He groaned again, making her grip his hair tight and moan louder than before “Fuck, you’re so beautiful from here” She chuckled mixed with a moan

He drew one of his hands towards her cunt. One of his fingers drew through her folds, stopping at her entrance. She moaned as he entered her slowly

He started going in and out of her, drawing loud moans from her. He added another finger as he started curling his fingers up and hitting the spot inside her that made her see stars

Her moans got louder and heavier as she was pulled closer to the edge of her orgasm “Fuck, you’re doing so good for me, Toto” She moaned pulling his hair so his face got showed into her cunt

“Fuck, I’m so close. Fucking keep going. Ah” Her head rolled back while she bucked her hips up and into his mouth “You’re doing so fucking good” He groaned which send her over the edge. Her legs shakes as she came down from her high

“Fuck, you did so good for me” She smiled down at him as she drew his face up to look at her “So fucking good” She leaned down to kiss him

#smut #dom!reader #formula one #toto wolff x reader smut #toto wolff smut #toto wolff x reader #sub!toto wolff

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fangirl-dot-com · 5 months

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Chapter 10 - See ya next year Vegas

Holy heck, what was that race?? I almost had a heart attack multiple times. Surprise surprise, I am a Charlie fan through and through, and I haven’t witnessed him win a race yet (I became a fan right after Zandvoort this year). I would have loved to see him win. Oh well, there’s always next year (I’m crying on the inside). BUT THE OVERTAKE ON THE LAST LAP WHAT THE HECK I WAS IN TEARS. Also, I felt so bad for Lando, that impact seemed huge and I’m glad he’s ok! But here’s a chapter about Max’s 1837460382nd win this season.

The air of the track was buzzing with excitement. And so were you, for mostly the wrong reasons. You were currently hiding behind some tires, trying not to be spotted. You even thought that pulling the hood over would help you blend in better. Without you knowing, Max was staring right at you, trying to figure out what the heck you were doing.

He was dressed in almost the same outfit that you had worn back on Thursday. You constantly teased him about the stark white race suit. You mentioned that you should have worn your outfit again, so that you could sneak into his car and race for him. He politely declined, saying that the team would have to pay a huge fine and they could not afford to go over the cost cap for next year, before it even started. You grumbled, but begrudgingly showed up in a Red Bull jacket and some shorts.

Max decided to go talk to you, but not before he took a quick picture. He would never admit to already having an album on his photo app dedicated to you. He stomped over and tapped you on the shoulder. When he did, you let out a squeak, body doing a full screenshot.

“Max! That was not nice!” You pouted and crossed your arms, before your eyes widened when you looked over his shoulder. You quickly turned away, but not before grabbing Max’s Elvis suit and pulling him closer to the tires.

“What are you doing?”

“Hiding.” He deadpanned and rolled his eyes.

“I can see that. But why?”

“Uh, well, you see. There’s uh…” You got cut off when Christian showed up right behind Max. He tapped Max and it was his turn to take a full body screen shot. He yelped and turned around, a snicker escaped from your lips.

“Is there a reason both of my drivers are horribly hiding in the tires?” He put his hands on his hips. Total dad stance, but you would never say that to his face. Your cheeks heated up at the thought of being outed about how bad you were at hiding.

Max turned to Christian, “Well, before you interrupted, she was about to say something.” The two men peered down at you and you lowered your eyes.

“Uh, so, you know, there are a bunch of celebrities here. And there’s one I’ve always wanted to meet, but, you know…celebrity crush? Is that the right word?”

You thought the Brit and Dutchman would start laughing at you, but they didn’t. They looked around the garage, trying to find the source of your embarrassment. Christian was thinking of how he could get you to go speak to said person. Max on the other hand, was wanting to get rid of the threat.

You gasped, “Ben Barnes is not a threat Maximillian!” You got a couple of looks from around the garage before you stepped closer to Max, not wanting to be seen.

“One, that is not my name.”

“Yes it is.”

The two of you started to argue, and missed the fact that Christian had stepped away to go talk to the actor. They said a few words before Christian invited him into the garage. You and Max were still deep in the childlike banter, that you didn’t even realize that Ben and Christian were getting closer.

“Ah, here is our lineup for the 2024 season. I believe that we have one of the finest drivers,” Christian put an emphasis on his words, trying to get his two “children” to stop fighting. You froze when you made eye contact with Ben.

Max turned around and gave him a pained smile. If there was one thing he hated more than regular celebrities, it was celebrities that seemed to only come for a sponsorship and to actually not watch the race. You however, were completely enamored. Max wouldn’t go as far to say that your eyes were sparkling, but with all the lights, they basically were.

“Hi, it’s very nice to meet you,” Ben said as he raised a hand for you to shake. You didn’t say anything and took his hand. Max elbowed your side and you glared up at him.

“It’s uh, very nice to meet you too,” you paused, “I’m sorry about your show. I was really rooting for Netflix to renew it.”

“Ah, so you’re a fan?” Ben smirked, Max did not like that.

You scratched your neck, “You could say that.” You gave him a schoolgirl grin, Max did not like that. Max stood straighter and pretended to hear something.

“Ah, that must be Mitch Y/n. I think she’s calling for you. Sorry man, but we need to get going,” Max draped an arm around you and maneuvered your body to where it was on the other side of him as you walked passed.

You quickly said goodbye to Ben, before you walked with Max.

Glaring at the driver, you said, “Mitch did not call me. What are you on? Do you need to get your ears checked grandpa?”

Max huffed. “I did not like the way he was looking at you.”

Your heart almost melted, but it was replaced with annoyance. “Max, the man is 42. He’s old enough to be dad.”

“Still. I didn’t like it.”

“Aw you big softie,” you gave him a hug, before smirking and whispering, “although I wouldn’t mind being an unconventionally young wife.” You unlatched yourself and ran to the other side of the garage, where Mitch actually was.

Max looked like he was having an aneurism before he shook his head. “Kid!”

You managed to evade Max’s anger by pinky-promising him that you won’t get married anytime soon, especially to actors who are old enough to be your dad.

The garage had a quick pre-race briefing before the drivers were called to get in the car. You stood next to Mitch, race headphones around you ears.

The lights blinked and off they went. You internally cringed as you watched Max “push” Charles off the track. You knew he’d be pissed, because that definitely meant that there was a penalty coming. GP alerted Max that he’d be given a five second penalty. His response made you laugh.

His voice was rattly, “That’s ok. Send the stewards my regards.” Of course Max would say that. Your attention was redirected at the sight of one of the McLarens crashing into the barriers. You saw the sparks and just hoped that either Oscar or Lando was ok.

When Lando spoke up, you heart dropped for him. You saw how excited he had been, especially since it was his birthday week.

The race was very interesting. Most of the teams were pulling the one-stop wonder. It was smart to have Checo pit later so that his and Max’s tires would be newer than Charles’s. You were able to click some buttons to keep up with the race.

By the end, you were biting your fingernails. Charles was in Checo’s DRS zone and you knew he was going to make the pass. You were sad that Ferrari had such a good driver, but didn’t know how to use him.

Cheers erupted from the garage as Max crossed the finish line, Charles right on his tail leading Checo behind him. This was really a race to remember. You were still watching the screen when Christian came up behind you.

“Kid?”

“Yes sir?” You took your headphones off. He beckoned you with his finger over to a different area.

“How would you like to go get Red Bull’s trophy for us?” Your eyes lit up and you nodded. Your nerves were suddenly shot with anxiety and excitement. You knew you had a couple of minutes because the Max Verstappen Pod Cast turned into Carpool Karaoke. Mitch was able to give you some pants because it was chilly everywhere except the heated garage.

You were led to a small waiting room and were told to stay there until someone would come get you. You took out your phone and scrolled through Instagram. When you heard Max’s voice, you quickly put your phone away.

Max’s eyes brightened at the sight of you seemingly waiting for him.

“How was the Max Verstappen Podcast on wheels?” you asked as he brought you into a hug.

“For the last time, it’s not a podcast.”

There were crickets from you, Charles, and Checo. Max huffed before he took a sip of his water bottle. You looked over to Charles as he also took a sip from his water.

When you made eye contact, you said, “That was a pretty sweet overtake. You think you can teach that to Arthur next season?” You laughed and so did he.

Charles raised his eye brows before replying, “We will see. You think he has a shot?” You were able to walk over to him since Max was currently Maxsplaining to Checo, who looked confused and bored as ever.

“Yeah, he just has to remember which pedal is the throttle. The dude seems to forget often.”

Charles joined in, “I know right. It’s like his strategist has to remind him where it is. And don’t get me started on his breaking.”

You cringed at the thought of Arthur’s breaking habits. “Yeah, it’s pretty bad.” Soon yours and Charles’s hands started moving, just like Max had been a few minutes earlier. The two of you completely missed the way that Max was staring at the two of you. His kid and his emotional support rival.

“Hey kid. Why are you here?” Max questioned.

Your eyes sparkled. “I’m getting the Red Bull trophy!” Your grin filled your face.

Max was about to say something, but a steward came to get the four of you. You went one by one, you following Checo, standing on the far side.

The Dutch national anthem begin to play, and you found yourself swaying. Anyone who said it wasn’t a bop were clearly lying. You couldn’t wait to hear your anthem play. You’d join the select few rookies who gets to win a race during their rookie year. But, most importantly, you’d be the first female to do everything. First points, first podium, first win…first championship. You’d do it all. You were hungry for it.

After the anthems ended, they brought out the trophy for Max, along with his medal. The next person, who happened to be Patrick Dempsey, handed the trophy to you. You were starstruck as you shook his hand. When you were done, you stared at your hand. Your hand was now blessed by the hand of the sexiest man alive. You would never wash your hand ever again. You quickly raised the trophy and the fans roared.

You could get used to this.

The crowds were loudest though for Charles and he deserved it. You knew he was going through a drought and you just wished that next year would be it for him. But you also hoped that Max would also win. But you knew that if Max lost to anyone, he’d be glad it was Charles.

The celebrations were the most fun. This this wasn’t your first podium, you quickly shook the bottle. Your pop wasn’t as impressive as Lando’s fountain, but you had a fun way to get it out quickly. Hauling it over your shoulder like a bazooka, you shook it and aimed it at the three drivers. Max laughed when he saw how you held it, and pointed his own bottle at you.

You looked over at Charles and winked at him, hoping that he got the signal. His wink (blink) let you know that he did. He “tiptoed” over to Max and dumped the rest of his champagne on his head. Max was not ready to drown in it and quickly turned around, shooting it at Charles. He tried to run away, but Max followed him. Sadly the streams of the liquid died down as the bubbles went away. Your hair was a sticky mess, but you didn’t care.

Over at the front, you saw this giant red button. You turned to Max, “Hey! What does this button do?”

Max shrugged, Charles shrugged, Checo shrugged, you shrugged. And your hand landed on the button.

Fireworks exploded from the top of the nearby building. You were instantly illuminated with the red, blue, yellow, green, and white lighting. With firework reflections in your eyes, you closed them, trapping them in the depths of your eyes, trying to memorize every detail.

Max's story

Tag List : @awekbachira @lightdragonrayne @leilanixx @angsthology @digitalizeduniqueness @topguncultleader @landosgirlxoxo @gods-menace @itsjustkhaos @thefandomswhre @alwaysboredsworld @vellicora @bintuabbas @sam-is-lost @empress-kimiko @assholeinatrenchcoat @kagatinkita @glitterquadricorn @zyonsay @tsukishimawhore @treehouse-mouse @ashy-kit @agent-curt-mega @julesbabey @lydialawrence @stopeatread @claudia5912 @nichmeddar @blueberry64857959 @laura-naruto-fan1998 @leptitlu @alessioayla @badassturtle13 @kaaale @wcnorris @cool-ultra-nerd @hockeyboysarehot @agent-curt-mega @myxticmoon

I will reply to your comment if I was unable to tag you!

#charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x driver!reader #max verstappen x reader #platonic grid x reader #arthur leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #formula 1 x you #lando norris x reader #oscar piastri x reader #logan sargeant x reader #alex albon x reader #george russell x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #ollie bearman x reader

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fxrmuladaydreams · 6 months

Text

make it work (mv33)

max x reader , george x reader (platonic) , toto x reader (paternal)

summary: you and max try to find a way to make your now very public relationship work

prev part

The following days after the Twitter reveal are spent staying inside Max’s apartment. Neither of you really leaves unless absolutely necessary. There’s a thick tension in the air now as well, as if you’re both walking on broken glass.

When it’s finally time for the next grand prix and your meeting with Toto you and Max discuss how you’re going to enter the paddock. In fear of making things worse you make the decision to not go in together, that way there’s less of a chance you’ll be swarmed by reporters.

You come in with George, who’s quick to put an arm over your shoulders and steer you away from any cameras.

“Netflix would have a field day.” He says under his breath as he pulls you towards the Mercedes building.

George lets you go once you’ve made it inside, looking around at all of the other Mercedes employees. Some of them give you weird looks, like they’re judging you, but most give you sympathetic glances, as if they know how all of this is going to play out.

You watch all of the media panels throughout the day. Whenever asked about your relationship Lewis says he had no idea what was going on, George says it was a surprise to everyone but he wishes the best for all parties involved, and Max snaps that he’s only there to talk about racing, nothing else.

Max meets with you after press is done for the day, the two of you heading into the Mercedes building to speak with Toto.

George exits the office just as you’re about to go in. He gives you a sympathetic smile and squeezes your hand.

You enter the office with Max behind you. Sitting behind the desk is Toto, looking down at some paperwork. Standing next to him is Christian Horner. You’re surprised to see the two of them together and not biting each other’s heads off.

“Sit.” Toto gestures to the two chairs at the opposite side of the desk. He looks up at you as you sit down, and tosses his glasses onto the desk.

You all stare at each other in silence for a moment, as if deciding who should speak first. Toto is the one to break the silence.

“Do the two of you realize what kind of trouble you have caused us?” His asks quietly. His eyes travel back and forth between you and Max. He sighs and leans back in his chair. “I can’t fire George, he’s still got a few years on his contract.” He points at Max. “I can’t fire you, because you’re not my driver.” Then he looks at you. “But Y/n, you are my assistant. You are the person I entrust with handling a lot of work that would be detrimental to the team if a rival were to find out.”

“I swear I haven’t said anything about anything.” You shake your head.

“It’s true.” Max chimes in. “She hasn’t spilled any secrets. It wouldn’t matter anyway though, seeing as I’m driving the better car.”

Christian laughs, only stopping when Toto gives him a stern look.

“The point is the two of you need to sort this out. Tell everyone that this was just a fling and it’s over.” Toto says.

“That’s not happening.” Max crosses his arms over his chest.

Christian sighs. “I told you he was stubborn.”

He looks at Max who just stares back up at him. You’d seen moments between the two of them before. They shared a father-son type of relationship. It was clear that Christian truly cared for Max and only wanted the best for him.

“We’re not breaking up. So find another solution to your problem.” Max looks back at Toto.

Toto glances back at you. “Y/n, I’d like to speak with you alone.”

Christian walks towards the door while Max turns to you.

“I’ll be fine.” You nod, giving him a soft smile.

He stands up, leans down to kiss the top of your head, then follows Christian out.

“That’s quite the headstrong young man.” Toto pulls your attention back to him.

“He cares about the people he loves.”

“And he loves you?” Toto raises a brow.

You feel your face heat up. “I mean, I think so. He’s sweet to me. He takes care of me.”

“And you love him?”

“Yes.” The answer comes out quicker than you expected.

Toto sighs, then stands up and walks to the front of his desk, leaning against it. “I care about you Y/n. You’re the first assistant I’ve had that’s been able to keep up with all the work I’ve piled on them. You get along well with both Lewis and George. You’re a lovely person. But dating Max Verstappen is a line I didn’t think you’d cross.”

You sink down in your seat, just waiting for the final blow.

“I trust that you haven’t given him any information about us. And I believe that you do for some reason truly care about that menace of a boy outside.” He nods towards the door. “So I’m sure that there’s a way we can make sure this works for everyone.”

You sit up straighter as your eyes search Toto’s for any chance that he’s lying.

“Really?”

“You’ll both beed to sign a few NDAs, but I’m sure it will be manageable.” He nods.

Before you can stop yourself, you stand up and wrap your arms around Toto, pulling him into a hug. He slowly pats your shoulders, returning your hug in an awkward way.

“Thank you. Thank you. I promise you won’t regret this.” Your eyes well up with tears.

“We’ll see. Just make sure I don’t see a Red Bull driver wandering around our garage.” He says with a smile.

You nod, then exit Toto’s office. Max leans against the wall next to the door, not having even left the hall. He cups your face with his hands. “You’re crying. What happened?”

“Nothing, they’re good tears.” You grin at him. “You were right. Everything’s okay.”

He smiles. “When have I ever been wrong?” He wraps his arms around your waist.

He leans down to kiss you just as the door to the office swings open.

“No Red Bull drivers allowed in the Mercedes building. Out.” Toto nods down the hall.

Over the next few days lawyers draw up NDAs for both you and Max to sign. He complains about it while you scribble your name on the papers. He signs just under your name though, promising he won’t reveal any secret Red Bull information to you.

It feels like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders after you sign the forms, like you’re no longer buried under this huge secret anymore.

You can walk through the paddock hand in hand now. You can give him a good luck kiss before he has to go to his garage. And you can finally be there to celebrate his wins with him.

The Red Bull photographers snap a photo of the two of you after that race. Max tugs his helmet off his head, then practically runs over to you. You stand with the other Mercedes staff, your white polo clashing with his blue race suit. His hair is pointing in all different directions, and his skin shines with sweat, but the smile on his face is breathtaking. He pulls you into a kiss over the fence. It’s sloppy, and uncoordinated, and the crowd screams their heads off.

Later that night you see a notification from Instagram. It’s a shared post, from both Red Bull and Mercedes.

redbullracing and mercedesamgf1

liked by georgerussell63 and 58,635 others

tagged: maxverstappen1 and yourusername

redbullracing Our favorite couple on the grid 💙❤️ + 🩵🤍

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #formula one x reader #formula one #mv33

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sheydgarden · 3 months

Note

How do you feel about jewish supernatural creatures being portrayed in media? Is it okay if done correctly, since it is a closed religion? I'm really curious, especially since you obviously know so much about them.

I also want to say that I love your art! And I love being able to learn more about these creatures.

thank you for the kind words, i appreciate it!

i have to say i'm confused by the question, or possibly its framing - i'm not sure what Judaism being a "closed religion" has to do with portraying creatures from folklore in media. "closed religion" is a term people generally seem to use when they're talking about not appropriating the actual religious/cultural practices of a (usually contextually marginalized) religion that you don't belong to. recently i've seen some pushback against the term "closed practice/religion" for Judaism, as it's not literally true. yes, Judaism is for Jews, but anyone can convert to Judaism - it's just that it's a whole process that involves a lot of learning & then being accepted by a Jewish community. to my knowledge, "closed practice" as a term grew out of the pagan/neo-pagan community anyway & was used to describe any religion whose symbols, deities & practices weren't socially considered fair game for use in your own personal spiritual practice - i have a lot of thoughts on this odd sort of "restaurant view" of religion & culture, where some things are at a free-for-all buffet so you can just take what you want (who put them there?) while other things are only served at certain tables by reservation (is anyone else ever invited?), but that's a whole other post.

i'm assuming you're asking how i feel about non-Jewish people portraying creatures from Jewish folklore in various kinds of media, & the answer is that it totally depends on the thing & how it's done? i definitely don't subscribe to the idea that creators should never step outside their own experience/culture. i do think portraying (elements of) other cultures is something that should be done carefully & sensitively, ideally with input from members of that culture! unfortunately, it is very, very easy for creators to unintentionally fall into antisemitic tropes & stereotypes, because those ideas are so old & so pervasive, especially when it comes to monsters & other supernatural creatures (Jews having been literally demonized by Christian culture for centuries). i think if you're not Jewish, then making sensitive, educated work about Jewish monsters is probably hard mode, but that isn't to say it can't be done. i can think of plenty of bad examples off the top of my head, but i'm sure i could come up with some good ones too if given the time.

of course, this is all just my opinion, & should not be taken as a ruling on what's "okay"! other Jews will agree & disagree with me, which is fine & good. :)

#asks #antisemitism

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devilfic · 5 months

Text

❝right place, right time❞

VI. do you trust me?

parts: previously / next plot: things are getting messy. pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x gn!reader. cw: surgeon!reader, secret identities, slow burn, descriptions of surgery, angsty mcangsty pants as always, mentions of the christian God and religious practices, maybe you and bruce wouldn't have to keep so many secrets if you just made out a lil bit, :). words: 6.2k.

a/n: edit as of 2/11/24: replaced mistaken use of "officer" with "detective".

Your needle passes through skin to the beat of a steady metronome. It's made up of muscle memory, glazing your mind as your hands thread the tear together. With each pass, you're unblinking. There are three others in the room with you but they might as well be shadows, faceless and without sound, coloring your peripheral but otherwise of no concern.

The steady metronome beats on well into your final pull of the thread, well into your dismissal of the shadows, well into the comforts of your office where your brain falls out of rhythm. It's been 48 hours and you haven't found a clue.

You'd think after 17 years that you'd have forgotten his name, but you remember Detective Russo. About 5'9, a kinky black beard, and bushy eyebrows that took up good real estate on his forehead. You remembered sizing up every one of those officers, but he was the one you'd memorized. He was the one that promised you that no one would ever know you were there that night. And now Bruce knows.

He was a detective of little significance outside of that, as far as your research was concerned. He'd served a whopping total of 20 years on the force before retiring seven years ago, but without any social media presence or nearby family to speak of, you couldn't find him. Not an old address, not a phone number, nothing. It was like he'd wiped himself clean the minute he retired. Which meant you'd have to resort to plan B.

Your boss intercepts you before you can even get to the stairs, though. Rudy Moretti rarely had good timing, after all, "Hey! Early lunch?"

You think about lying for all of two seconds, "No. Headed to the police station."

Your boss' eyebrows shoot up. "Whoa, everything okay? Are one of those guys from the other night bothering you? I can come with you if you need-"

"No, no. Nothing like that. It's something personal."

Rudy shifts awkwardly, "Oh. Well, be safe. And let me know if anything like that pops up." You nod, attempting to escape, but his hand finds your elbow and stops you, "By the way... how's everything with Mr. Wayne?"

You should've expected a question like that by now. You had been officially working for him long enough to warrant it, but you still wince. "Fine." When your boss blinks at you, expecting more, you have to bite your tongue to keep from swearing, "I actually... was invited to a celebration for the Mayor. Courtesy of Mr. Wayne. She was interested in the hospital's new wing. We had a good conversation."

Like a child on Christmas morning, your boss lights up at the good news. "Oh, that's good! That's good. Did she mention wanting to come down for a tour?"

"What happened to you should have never happened in the first place. I'm glad you were able to make it out alive."

Her hand on yours should've been a comfort, and to some extent it was, but even the softness of her palm couldn't have steadied your trembling. She had squeezed tighter when she felt it, perhaps thinking you traumatized for having to recall that night. Unaware of where you'd been. Unaware of the burning need to escape before you spilled your guts on the Persian rug.

"It happens all the time," a voice came from your right, a drunken councilman with his suit jacket unbuttoned, "and it'll keep happening so long as that thug's still running the streets."

"Thug?" The mayor dipped her chin.

"With all due respect, Bella, what's your plan to put Batman in Arkham for good?"

You watched the mayor's back straighten, her eyes narrow. It was the one thing everyone was itching to talk about, and the one thing everyone was too afraid to bring up first.

You felt Bruce's knee bump yours and stiffened.

"You think he ought to be imprisoned?" The mayor asks.

"I think he ought to be drawn and quartered! It's people like him that make this city a far cry from its glory days. Inviting violence, chaos. He's single-handedly responsible for that- that homicidal freak that nearly killed you, mayor. And he's responsible for everything else this city's suffered since he started infecting it. He's a menace. It'll be a cold day in hell before this city's safe with him still on the streets."

It sickened you to hear. People who'd done nothing since being elected calling for the arrest of the one person who's made any real change in this city.

The mayor doesn't immediately speak up and you think she's chewing on his words, preparing to respond with a bit more bite. Her pause is what prompts you to speak first, "If it wasn't for the Batman, I might be dead. He's done more good for this city than bad..." you watch the councilman turn his focus to you, looking baffled as to why you were butting in, as if you hadn't just finished recounting your brush with death moments ago, "...with all due respect, Councilman Roberts."

The councilman sobers up at the heavy gaze you level on him, "Oh, no. Of course. Of course! It's good that he was there. It would've been a- been a real tragedy to lose one of Gotham's good, fine citizens. I'm just saying that... maybe these things wouldn't be happening if he wasn't there to... encourage it."

"You think he's encouraging it?" The mayor chimes in, taking a sip from her glass. Whatever she was going to say before has been shelved for the time being, it seems.

The councilman laughs. You watch him twist so that he's facing you and the mayor, holding his glass to her like a gavel for judgement, "He's a glorified criminal! He's no better than that clown we put away years ago."

"He put away, councilman. I believe you meant to say he," Bruce's first words since he'd introduced you to Bella give you a shiver. With his one arm hanging off the back of the couch, he leans in from beside you and smiles that TV smile again, "Unless you've got something you’d like to share with the class?"

Snickers break out amongst the group. You can feel Bruce's breath on your shoulder for only a passing moment, and then he's falling back into the couch and taking a swig of his wine.

The councilman bristles, clearly not a fan of being laughed at. Or being faced with the truth, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, nothing. Just a silly theory of mine. It's just... it would make sense for a vigilante to hide his identity by publicly denouncing himself, especially if he’s in the public eye already. I mean, it would make most people cross you off their list but... you're making me think twice about you."

You chance a glance at Bruce's face. He isn't drunk. His eyes hold a steady gaze with the councilman encroaching on your space to meet it, and even with the looseness of his body, you can tell he's calculating. His arm behind your head feels drawn tight. You can sense it in its weight near your head. He's flashing his teeth and keeping his voice light, but he's not defenseless. He's leveraging.

Your heart hammers again at what lie beneath this tower.

The councilman flushes. Sinks back into his seat, grumbling, but all eyes on him has him forcing a grin, "You're funny, Wayne. Unfortunately for your theory, I have a real job. Making real change in this city. Something Batman wouldn't understand."

That does something to you, "Maybe I'm biased, but... I've seen what he's done for this city, sir. And in the wake of last year, I think we can all agree that... well, anyone can say they're making change. Even if they're just making money instead. Perhaps it feels like Batman is doing more because we actually know what he's doing."

Bruce's leg bumps yours again. Accidentally.

You watch the councilman's Adam's apple bob, "No offense, and I'm sure you feel offended on behalf of the man that saved you, but there are laws that make sure people like me and Ms. Reál don't cross the line. What say you, when your hero takes things too far one day, hm? Who're you going to call when the Batman beats someone's brains in because people like you justify it? Or is it only okay because at least he stopped you from getting a bullet to the head?"

You're about to spew the first thing that comes to mind, probably full of anger and vitriol and a little of whatever you had to drink earlier, when you feel a hand take hold of your inner wrist. Bruce's grip is firm, but it doesn't hurt you. It's enough to stop whatever might come out of your mouth. When you look him in the eye, he's not smiling anymore.

You stare at each other like that for a few moments, not a word shared but a million thought. It was almost like he knew what you were going to say, knew how it might've made you look, made you both look. Had imagined it coming out of his own mouth too, maybe.

Instead, he releases you and turns to the councilman, "Okay, enough. We all feel pretty spirited about the topic." When the councilman scoffs, Bruce nods to you, "I think you both make good points. He's done good. He saved my doctor, of whom I never would've had the pleasure of working with otherwise. But I have to agree with you, councilman: he operates outside of the law and that is cause for concern. I'm sure these are all important issues that our mayor is working tirelessly to address, isn't that right, Mayor?"

Mayor Reál has her leg crossed over the other, eyes cutting from the councilman's to Bruce's to yours. Eventually, she smiles and raises her glass, "Indeed. This conversation was enlightening. Much to think about."

"I'm gonna get another drink." Your announcement is followed by the most graceful exit you can muster, even though your chest is throbbing with adrenaline and you can feel Bruce following you.

You don't stop until you reach the bar and have another glass in hand, doing your best to ignore his presence as he looms beside you. He allows you a full three sips before he starts talking, "Are you okay?"

The diplomat from before is long gone. He's melted, keeping his back to the group you'd just escaped and giving you such wet puppy dog eyes that it makes you want to hurl again. How could he look you in the eye?

Your hand shakes around the stem of your glass, "You're different around them."

His eyes fall to the bar top, "I am?"

"Smiling, friendly, funny..."

He cuts his eyes back to you, smiling a little, "I'm not usually funny?"

"You pretend to be laid-back around them, and I get why. But you don't do that with me. You act like I know some big secret about you and I'm this close to spilling it," you pinch your fingers together in front of his face, "or maybe you know some big secret about me."

You watch his face for any sign of recognition, but you're disappointed to find there is none. No reaction other than a sigh. "I pretend around them because I don't trust them."

"And you trust me? Even though we barely know each other?"

Uncharacteristically, Bruce tilts so close toward you that you bend back to keep some semblance of space between you, "You're asking if I trust the person I pay to keep me alive over... Councilman Roberts." He pronounces the last two words with such incredulity, then laughs right after. You note his breath smells sweet, but nothing like the wine. Had it been wine he'd been drinking? One look at his glass and you'd think so. Two looks, though...

He was stone cold sober.

You swallow, staring up into his face. Bruce doesn't back away. Questions begin to form on your tongue... destructive ones.

How do you know? How did you find out? What are you going to do about it?

Your stomach drops as you think, surely, there's quite a bit he can do about it. If he wanted to. If you made the wrong move.

His eyes narrow on you, "You look sick. Are you feeling okay?"

"I'd like to go home."

Bruce blinks, shrinks in on himself a bit, "Okay."

"I... I drove."

Bruce nods, holds a hand up to one of the suited men near the edge of the room, and turns to you, "My driver. He'll take you home."

"My... my car. I have work in the morning." You mumble pathetically.

Bruce says something to the driver when he gets close. Another man is summoned, appearing by your side in an instant. This one holds out his hand to you and it takes you a second to realize what he's asking for. You fish your keys out and drop them in his waiting palm.

It's incredibly awkward as Bruce walks you out. You think he'll stop at the front door, or the elevator, or even the lobby, but he walks you all the way to the back door of his ride and—God—even holds it open for you.

You settle in to the nice seats, blinking up at him through eyes you fight to keep dry. You wonder if Bruce would forgive you for throwing up in his car instead. "If it's any consolation," he begins, leaning on the roof of the car. You can still hear the bustle of Gotham all around you, but when he looks at you... there might as well be only him and you, "I agree with you. Councilman Roberts is a jackass."

Your boss is looking at you, expectantly. Still waiting.

"I'm sure she's thinking about it." Is your curt reply. "Is that it? I really gotta go."

Your boss deflates, but otherwise doesn't keep you.

"How can I help you?"

The cop behind the desk seems nice enough. He doesn't smile at you but his tone is pleasant, unhurried. It helps calm your nerves. "Hi. I'm looking for someone. A detective who used to work here."

"You remember their name?"

"Detective Joey Russo," you offer, watching the cop begin to type into his computer, "he retired seven years ago. I wanted to know if you could get me in touch with him. A number or a... address."

"Ah, Russo. I remember him. I'm sorry, may I ask who you are?" You give your name and the cop frowns. "You got a badge? Unless you're with the state, I can't give you anything."

You'd worried as much, "He worked a case of mine 17 years ago. Something new's popped up and I just wanted to talk to him about it."

"If it's about a case we covered, you'd have to talk to one of us about it unless he's directly involved, and even then it'd be a process." He must notice how your face falls because his own softens, "I'm real sorry. I can get you in with someone else."

You know you shouldn't be upset. After all, he was only doing his job. If they gave out personal information to every person who walked in off the street, you imagined they'd have a bigger problem with domestic terrorism than they already do.

It doesn't make it any less debilitating. Bruce Wayne had found him. That was the only way he could've gotten his hands on your file, surely. And Bruce Wayne had money, more than enough to get an ex-cop to talk.

You're thanking the man and trying not to sound as distressed as you feel when you turn and catch new eyes.

You'd only seen Batman at night, tucked into the corners of shadow of your apartment, but here he was in broad daylight—midday—standing next to a plainclothes cop who had yet to realize the vigilante was no longer listening to him. You're so relieved to see him that you actually break out into a smile.

Batman doesn't return it. Without acknowledging his partner, he stomps across the room to you, cutting off your greeting with a rushed, "Did something happen?"

You blink, unable to answer when the cop from before sidles up next to the two of you. He's got a warm, friendly look to him, even if his eyes are narrowed at the pair of you with skepticism, "You two know each other?" He asks. When Batman refuses to tear his eyes from you, the cop addresses you directly, reluctant to extend his hand without confirmation that you were friend, not foe, "Detective James Gordon. And you are?" You give your name and his eyes light up. "Hey. I know you, don't I?"

"The hostage at Gotham General," Bruce answers for him, not even bothering to glance at the detective, "they were on the news."

"You three mind moving somewhere else? The freak's making people uncomfortable." The kind cop from before has dropped all pretense now, glaring at the vigilante who, still, pays no one but you mind.

Gordon grumbles and motions for you both to follow him down a long hallway out of sight.

You struggle to keep up when the detective starts walking, much faster than he looked, and so you all but yelp when the Bat places a hand on your lower back and guides you in front of him.

A turn or two later, you empty out beside a window at the end of another long hallway, far enough away from prying eyes that the detective seems to find it sufficient.

"What are you doing here?" Batman asks immediately.

"I was looking for someone but, actually, now that you're here, I was wondering if I could talk to you." You look over at Gordon, "If you're not busy."

The detective grunts but holds his hands up in surrender, slinking down the hall out of earshot, "I'm gonna go smoke, but I need him back in ten."

When he's far enough away, Batman speaks, voice at a much lower volume than before, "What's wrong?"

"I'm looking for a cop. I need to get in touch with him but he retired and they won't tell me where I can find him."

The Bat's head tilts to the side. You can tell the gears in his brain are turning, "Who?"

"Detective Joey Russo." The Bat freezes. "Do you know him?"

He doesn't answer that, something you take note of with a funny feeling in your chest, "Why are you looking for him?"

It's your turn not to answer. You should've known he wouldn't just tell you without good reason, but your throat closes up when you think about how you'll explain it. It wasn't that you didn't trust him... but... "It's personal. Please."

"That's not enough."

"I know... I know. And I wouldn't be asking this of you if it wasn't important-"

"Then tell me why."

"I can't. But it is important. To me. I promise, it's for good reason."

"A good reason that you can't tell me? That's not enough. That's not how I work. God forbid someone finds out I gave you classified information."

"If I told you why I needed it—if I told anyone why I needed it—it would defeat the whole purpose!"

"That doesn't make you sound any more convincing."

"Batman, please," and your voice breaks as you step that much closer to him, your eyes rimming with tears you're terrified to shed, "I have never asked you for anything, have I? Not for money or your identity or anything. I am asking you for this one thing because I have no one else. You... are the only person who can help me. Please."

You see his face fall, so clear it feels like you can see right through him. Past the cowl and the facades and right into his very being. For a moment, you're just seeing the person and not the idea of him. You see your fears reflected back at you in his eyes, a deep understanding there that gives you some hope.

He draws a deep, heavy breath, and- "I'm sorry."

You're too stunned to watch him walk away.

Judith's apartment has a lack of technology and an abundance of crucifixes. The first time you'd seen it, you'd thought it was overkill. Now, since you've visited enough, it was comforting in its own creepy way. A blast into the past, memories of a grandmother who was never really your grandmother.

She startles at the stove where she's just put something in the oven, "Oh! Dear, I didn't hear you come in. Is everything alright?"

You smile and kick your shoes off by the key-holder, "I knocked. You're supposed to have your hearing aid in."

She gives you a stern look, then smiles.

You can smell hibiscus tea in the air, her favorite. She'd gather handfuls of hibiscus and dry them out in the sun, and then she'd steep their petals in hot water until it turned a deep pink. The taste was always striking, tart and strong, but she'd sweeten it with honey for you and then it wouldn't be so bad.

Without asking, she waddles over to her breakfast table where you've already found your seat and pours you a steaming cup of tea. You take the honey she's brought with her and begin to stir. "You never answered my question." Judith reminds you.

You bite the inside of your cheek, "I'm just taking a break from work, is all. Do I need to be having a bad day to visit you?"

"No, I suppose not," she sighs, taking the seat across from you, "but you do look a wreck."

You grumble. You hadn't looked in the mirror. You hadn't done anything but busy yourself in hopes that it would stave off the wave of anxious tears threatening to fall. You busied yourself until your hands started shaking and people started asking questions. And now you were here.

"Yeah. I'm sure I do. Work's... been hard."

"And besides work?"

"I don't know. I don't really have a life outside of work anymore."

Judith frowns, "You should really make some friends, dear."

That gets you to laugh. "I have friends! I have you. Are you not my friend?"

You could see the question already brewing, the narrow of her eyes as she watched you begin to fidget, "And that demon? Is he still hanging around you?"

You cast your gaze to the tabletop, "...I don't think we'll be seeing him around anymore."

"Oh?" You don't miss the hope in Judith's voice, "Did the police finally arrest him?"

"No. I think I may have... scared him off."

She doesn't respond for a while, even though you can tell from the shift in the air that she's rather pleased with this development. It makes you feel sicker to the stomach. "It might be for the best, dear," you can tell that she's being careful, minding your upset, "he's dangerous. It's best you stick to the light for now." When you don't respond, her leathery hand clasps over yours and forces you to look her in the eye, "Come with me to service this week. I've been telling everyone about you."

You snort, "About me and the demon I'm friends with?"

Judith shakes her head furiously, as if the accusation that she might have spilled your secret greatly insulted her, "They have been praying for you ever since the night at the hospital. They'd really like to see you in person one of these days. I never shut up about how proud I am of you."

Even through the despair, you feel the warmth of Judith's love. It makes you hold her hand back, gripping so tightly that you fear she may be too fragile to handle it. She doesn't seem to mind.

You two share the rest of your tea in relative silence, taking breaks to comment on the neighbors or the news or the weather (which never really changes outside of summer, but you always have something to say with her).

After a refill or two, you feel the dread begin to creep in.

"Dear, come here," Judith calls as you button up your coat at the door, "bow your head."

You frown but do as you're told. In a blink, you feel her finger swipe across your forehead in a quick motion. The familiar scent of cinnamon and myrrh hit your senses right after. You reach up to touch it but Judith captures your hand in her own. In her other is a small vial, unmarked, filled halfway with oil. "To protect you," she says, nodding gravely, "God will watch over you. You are blessed."

You want to tell her that the anointing does nothing for the stones gathering in your stomach, that the moment you walk out of this door you will be hit with a wave so sudden that you will surely drown. But you'd be lying if you said this little woman with her God and prayers didn't make you feel, even for a fraction of a second, safe. You kiss her cheek goodbye.

It's desperate, you know that. You spend the whole evening hating yourself as you pace the hardwood floors, thumbing over buttons and weighing the pros and cons.

"For emergencies only", but this was an emergency to you. It felt like one, the way it gnawed at your very center demanding blood. Every minute dreading that you'd have to see him again and pretend like you had no idea that he knew that you... You'd also spent part of the evening bent over the toilet.

At some point, you throw yourself onto your fire escape for fresh air and nearly throw the phone across the way just to breathe.

You know you've screwed up. The tentative threads of your friendship with the Bat had surely been severed. What had gotten into you, asking him for such a bold favor without anything to offer in return? You'd already given him your hands and your mind, the two things that you'd worked so hard to hone, and you would never think of taking them away.

But maybe that would be inevitable. Maybe you'd lose your license if this got out. And it wouldn't just be you carrying that burden. Every single one of you would be dug up and exposed to the world, and with Bruce Wayne involved, you couldn't imagine the lawsuits. You just couldn't. They could put you under the prison with his kind of money.

And the cops didn't even know everything.

You gasp, sob, and wrench yourself from the railing. You clench the phone tight.

Even if you could get to Russo, and even if he admitted that he gave you up, what good would it do? Bruce had already seen it. He probably had a contact at the DA's office on speed dial. You'd seen what money could do to men like him in this city. What it made men like him do to people like you. The echoes of the accusations against his father a year ago still rang in the wind, and his efforts to make up for it all would never truly make that go away. A criminal record was just as much currency as anything else. He would undeniably own you.

Somewhere between your panicking thoughts, you hear the grates of the fire escape tremor from above. You whip your head up and see a dark shape hovering a floor up. Swiftly, it descends the stairs until your eyes adjust. Your heart catches in your throat as you choke out his name.

The strangled noise causes him to pause when he turns to you. You clear your throat, "Are you hurt?" Batman's head tilts to the side. His eyes flicker from the phone in your hand and back to you. "I'm... I wanted to see you."

His shoulders stiffen. He almost looks like he didn't mean to come. A sliver of you had actually hoped he'd changed his mind, too. "I know it wasn't fair of me to ask something like that of you with no explanation. And I'm sorry. I want you to know that."

He waits, head still tilted.

You bite your tongue, tasting the blood beginning to pool on the surface.

You could tell him. Lay it all bare. And he could drop you at the GCPD without another word.

Or he could accept you. See the you that stands before him now, who had been years clean and had saved his life on your living room floor and confessed that he was why you were a better person now.

That's what friends did. Were you and the Batman friends?

Were you and Batman... anything?

"I wasn't always like this," your head throbs as you force yourself to keep talking, clenching the railing behind you with one hand, "I'm sure it's no surprise to you that I didn't just waltz through life completely innocent for thirty-something years, given where I come from. I wasn't a very good person when I was younger... and I did things I'm not proud of. And, by the grace of a very good man, a very small group of people know the true extent of that.

"But recently, I found out that someone who shouldn't know... does. And they could ruin my life if they used it against me. So I need to talk to Russo, because I need to know if he broke his promise, and then... God knows what else. I don't know. I haven't thought any further than that."

Something substantial but unclear, and if Batman were to go digging officially and find out the rest, at least you'd know Russo was the snitch.

But your heart still clenches in your chest. It feels like you are all made up of open wounds and they're all gushing blood as he watches, saying nothing. If you had really told him the truth, you imagined it would feel akin to spontaneous combustion. God, would you even be able to utter the words? It'd been so long since you'd last said-

Batman takes a slow step toward you, and the open wounds seal up at once. You are frozen.

Another, and another, until you are caged there against the railing, awaiting his verdict. Judge, jury, and... "And if he didn't? If it wasn't him that sold you out?"

You'd briefly considered that. Your friends, who were really more ghosts now than friends, had no reason to expose themselves. They'd gotten off just as easily as you did. Most of them were living lives on the other side of the country now, far, far removed from the history you shared together. Only you remained.

And who would even think to go looking into them? Outside of your history together, now sealed up and locked away, no one would look for them unless they knew what happened already.

Which only left one other option. "Then someone did—someone very close to Bruce Wayne, and there's nothing I can fucking do about it."

Batman stares at you for a while. You don't have a clue what he's looking for. "If I take you to Russo," you gasp, and he hurries his words out before you can say anything else, "it'll be the last time anything like this ever happens again. We go, we ask, and that's it."

"Thank you. Thank you, thank you."

"And I wasn't lying to you."

"What?"

"About Wayne. When you asked me if he was corrupt." You watch his eyes waver on you, eventually falling to the grates beneath your feet, and you're dumbstruck by the shift in his tone. "I never lied to you."

"I... I didn't think you had." He looks at you again. "But there are things that maybe we don't know about him," and as you speak, you place a hand on his arm, feeling it go rigid even beneath the suit, "I mean, he's a Wayne. They're older than this city. And you've seen firsthand the kind of reach people with that kind of money have. He can smile and wave and support as many good causes as he wants, but that could all be smoke and mirrors."

"You really don't trust him, do you?"

You sigh. You could almost hear Emily asking the same thing. But Emily would be smiling, and Batman is grave. Almost... disappointed. Your frown strengthens, "He's got a lot of secrets."

"So do I."

"Yeah, but you also saved my life," you chuckle, "if Wayne pushes me out of the way of a moving car, I might reconsider my stance on him."

The Bat squints at you. To your relief, you notice a bit of mirth in his voice, "No. You wouldn't."

"Listen, I am really grateful that you're doing this for me. And I wanted to say that after today, the thought of scaring you away scared me. And I would really, really like it if you could trust me. I don't want you to think that I'm taking this for granted. I'm not asking for you to take off your mask or bare your soul or anything. I just want you to know that-"

"I gave you this," the hand holding your burner is scooped up in his, held between the two of you, "because I trust you. I keep coming back because... I like... this. It's different. And I don't trust easily. If you believe me on anything, believe me on that."

A bit of your dread is chased away, and your hero is standing in the wake. Bruce Wayne is far away from this moment. He can't stain it. You won't let him. "You wanna come in for coffee?"

At that exact moment, your doorbell rings.

You see Batman jolt backwards and reflexively reach for him, using what strength you have to keep him from escaping. He watches you, wide-eyed, as you cling to his side, "Wait, wait. I wasn't expecting anybody. I'll send them off. It'll be quick."

He turns his head to the door. "You weren't expecting anyone?"

You shake your head. He shucks away your grip as he climbs through the window and takes a few, long strides to the door. He has to bend to look through your peephole, and you rush to catch up to him. After a long moment, he peers at you from the corner of his eye, "It's an old lady."

Judith. The doorbell rings again. "My neighbor. She's harmless, I'll handle it."

You expect him to walk off, find somewhere else to hide from sight, but he backs up behind the door and waits, nodding to you. Well, he was out of sight.

The door opens. The concerned look on Judith's face melts as soon as she sees you there, and holds out a pan wrapped in tinfoil, "Oh, there you are, dear. I made too much casserole so I came to give you the rest. Just in case you haven't had dinner yet."

You beam at her, taking the dish out of her hands, "Thanks, Judith. That's really sweet of you."

She returns a modest smile, but it falls away a second later. You follow her gaze past your shoulder and into the living room where- shit. "It's winter." Her brows furrow, "You'll catch cold if you keep your window open all night."

"Right! I was just... looking out over the city. Taking a breather. You caught me in the middle of it."

She presses the back of her hand to your arm and you note the very stark difference in her body temperature to yours. She frowns hard, stepping closer to you in order to whisper, "Has that demon come to see you again?"

You can't see him from where you're holding the door open, though it's your instinct to glance, but you feel yourself warming up pretty quickly, "He's not a demon, Judith."

No matter how often you repeat it, it goes in one hearing aid and out the other, "Then why does he have horns-"

"Judith, I'm fine, I swear. Even if... he did come visit, I would be fine. He wouldn't hurt me. As I've told you before."

She stares at your window, looking for little goblins with pointed tails and pitchforks no doubt. But as the curtains blow this way and that and no shadows make themselves clear, she is forced to take your word for it. "Alright," she relents, and you try not to visibly deflate, "enjoy the casserole, dear. Keep the window shut."

You watch her waddle all the way down the hallway, smile every time she glances back at you, and wait until you can no longer hear her kitten heels click-clack-clicking on the stairway down. You immediately shut the door and drop your head against it with a dull thud.

A few moments pass. You can feel him still next to you. Even worse, you can feel him trying not to laugh. "She thinks I'm a demon?"

You stand up and shove the casserole into his hands, only a little taken aback by the smile on his face when you do, "You're going to eat this casserole and then you're gonna tell that woman you're a God-fearing man and it tasted fucking delicious."

a/n: there's a scene I'm really excited to write for next chapter if it's gonna go the way I plan for it to go :)

taglist: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry @theclassicvinyldragon @marina-and-the-memes @angxlictexrs @moonlightreader649 @geekyfer @thescarletfang @navs-bhat @yehet-moi-ohorat @bluestuesday @maryx0107 @vainillasmil157 @moony-toasts @sketchiethebear @trawberry-fire @hangmanscoming @agent-scorpio @julesjewelss36 @chonkercatto @dcgoddess @hollandorks @anotherr-fine-mess @calsjack @that-one-beannnn @levisfuckinmine @miriamnox @bluestuesday @dumdumsun @phoenixgurl030 @allgaslynobrakess @marvelouskatie

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne scenarios #bruce wayne fic #bruce wayne angst #bruce wayne fluff #bruce wayne #batman x reader #batman scenarios #batman fic #batman angst #batman fluff #the batman #battinson x reader #battinson #dc #mjwrites

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lillysilvermoon · 6 months

Text

You know what is the most tiktok bullshit I really REALLY hate? That if you don't do protection before you call a deity you will attract a evil spirit or whatever. Dude. When christians pray to their God they need to protect themselves? No. So why we need? are our Gods bad? So no, if you are a baby witch and want to talk to X deity, go for it!!!! Light a candle, do a prayer, talk to them. Do what YOU can do, based on YOUR life because ages ago pagans and witches just did it, there wasn't any rules, you would do what you could based on your life and mostly would be secret. I'm so tired to see people sad because they want to talk to a deity, or start deity work but people made them feel like they should, first, be a encyclopedia and know 10o023i990498903802 things to even, idk, light a candle?? Maybe for THAT person, it doesn't felt like they should do deity work in the beginning and that's fine!, but this doesn't apply to everyone man, there's people that started witchcraft WITH deity work with the help of their deity so please STOP putting your rules as some kind of mandatory thing because this doesn't exist, every path are unique and everybody should respect this.

#witch #witchcraft #deity work #greek pantheon #witch community #witches of tumblr #witchblr #baby witch #baby hellenic #i am tired of this #deities

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lecsainz · 1 year

Text

Hotel Room

pairings: pierre gasly x horner!reader

warnings: room cards exchanged, pierre almost hit by a vase, christian horner being a cool uncle and pierre shamelessly flirting.

authors note: even though it's very short, i had fun writing it.

word count: 680

Pierre Gasly arrived at his hotel after a long day of practice sessions. As he walked towards the reception to check-in, he received a card key from the receptionist, and without bothering to check the name or room number, he went straight up to his room.

Once inside, he put his bag down and noticed that there was a towel on the floor. Confused, he walked towards the bathroom to investigate, and that's when he saw her - a beautiful woman, wearing only a towel, walking out of the shower.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" Y/N yelled, grabbing a vase and holding it defensively.

Pierre, taken aback by the situation, tried to explain that he was given the wrong room and that he was just as surprised as she was.

"Hey, stop! I didn't know this was your room! And put down that vase, you might hurt yourself." Pierre said, trying to calm her down.

"You can't just barge in here like that!" Y/N exclaimed, throwing the vase at him, causing Pierre to duck out of the way just in time.

"Get out of my room!" Y/N continued to scream, picking up anything she could find and throwing it at him.

"Okay, okay, fine. I'll leave. But you're the one who invaded my room, you know. And by the way, you look really nice in that towel." Pierre said with a smirk, trying to lighten the mood.

Y/N glared at him, not amused. "Just get out!" shouted, throwing a bottle of shampoo at Pierre.

He ducked as the shampoo bottle sailed over his head and crashed against the wall.

Pierre realized that she wasn't going to listen to him, so he grabbed his bag and made his way towards the door. As he was leaving, Y/N's phone rang, and she answered it, still angry. "Hello?"

“Y/N, I just got a call from the hotel. They told me that Pierre Gasly, the driver for Alpine, was given the wrong room key and ended up in your room by mistake. Is everything okay?" Christian Horner asked, concerned.

Y/N's eyes widened in realization. "Oh my god, that's what happened. I thought he was some random guy who had broken into my room. I threw a vase at him and everything."

Christian let out a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness he's okay. I'm glad it was just a misunderstanding. Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine. I'm just embarrassed now." Y/N said, feeling mortified about her earlier behavior.

"Don't worry about it, Y/N. These things happen. I'll call the hotel and make sure everything's sorted out." Christian reassured her.

After Christian hung up Pierre turned around, curious about what was going on. Y/N hung up the phone and looked at him with embarrassment. "I'm so sorry, I had no idea who you were. My uncle is Christian Horner, the boss of Red Bull Racing. He's going to kill me."

Pierre couldn't help but laugh. "Don't worry about it. It's an honest mistake. And it's not every day that I get to meet the niece of one of the most important people in my sport."

Y/N gave him a small smile. "I guess you're right. I'm sorry for overreacting."

"It's okay. And by the way, I really did mean it when I said you look nice in that towel," Pierre said with a wink.

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn't help but laugh. "You're such a flirt, Pierre."

"Guilty as charged." Pierre said, grinning.

"Well, now that we've cleared that up, I guess we should introduce ourselves properly," Y/N said, extending her hand. "I'm Y/N."

"Pierre,” Pierre said, shaking her hand. “It's a pleasure to meet you, mademoiselle.”

Y/N smiled at Pierre. "You can just call me Y/N."

"Y/N it is then," Pierre said with a smile. "So, now that we've met under such interesting circumstances, can I buy you a drink or something to make up for the misunderstanding?"

Y/N chuckled. "Sure, why not? But only if you promise to tell me more about yourself and what you do."

"Deal." Pierre said, grinning.

#f1 fic #f1 fics #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #formula 1 x reader #pierre gasly #pierre gasly x oc #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly x y/n #pierre gasly x you #pierre gasly fluff #pierre gasly fic #pierre gasly fanfic

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cheriladycl01 · 6 days

Note

Could you do fic for Checo Perez with wife reader? He had some insecurity about his abilities to race against the grid and she just hugged and comforted him. Add something else to it if you want to. Tag me later Thanks!! :))

The pressure is insane… - Sergio Perez x Wife! Reader

Plot: Checo replacing Alex was probably the best thing to happen to him in his Formula One career. However, so much pressure comes from being in that second Red Bull seat, not just the team but the fans too, and Checo doesn’t like the pressure on him.

Credit to checorita for the GIF

When Checo came into the seat, and performance wasn’t great, people in the team told him it would be fine and to keep his head up because everyone knew he was getting used to how different the Red Bull Car is thanks to Max’s driving style.

But at it came to his second season, and it didn’t seem like things were improving much, Christian kept talking to him, explaining what was expected of him as if he hadn’t already informed him over 100 times.

He was just struggling with a car that was clearly built for their main driver, which is why Pierre crumbled under pressure and it’s why they couldn’t put up with Alex when he didn’t learn the car quick enough for them.

The gave Checo the benefit of the doubt throughout 2022, but when Red Bulls most dominant season came around it was without a doubt that your husband had to step up.

And in your eyes he had, getting two race wins under his belt, but he wasn’t consistent enough for Christian and it seemed that he wanted Checo to be actually challenging Max more.

It got worse when the Ferrari and McLaren started to beat him despite being in the worse car, and it was deemed a ‘driver issue’

Sergio felt awful, for a man who had been racing for as long as he had, he never felt doubtful of his abilities to put on a show and drive to the best of his ability.

But now, in the Red Bull seat, he actually understood the words ‘under pressure’ because he was under it constantly.

“Baby what’s wrong with you, you’ve been jittery all week” you ask your husband who was currently watching over some of his old races with a notepad.

“Hmmm?” He asks not even throwing a glance in your direction.

You knew he wasn’t listening.

“Well I just think that when aliens invade Earth that we should have a bunker ready and prepared so that you and I can help create a new civilisation after the government kill them all …” you say trying to grab a reaction from him.

“Hmmm yeah that’s really nice” he starts but then he looks up and his head cocks to the side as if his brain just processed the words you said. “Wait what?” He asks.

You chuckle and little bit happy to have his attention.

“I just wanted to see if you were listening, I asked what’s been up with you lately” you say softly, taking a seat next to him, reaching over to grab the remote and pause the race he was observing so his full attention was on you.

“Nothing wrong, I’m fine” he lies.

“Hermoso, we’ve been married for 6 years, I know when somethings up” you smile taking his hand into yours and kissing the back of it softly while watching for his reaction.

“I just … nevermind it’s stupid” he sighs looking down.

“None of your feelings are stupid baby, please let me in” you say calmly.

“I just feel like, I’m so singled out on the grid. You’ve got so many amazing drivers and then there’s me. Lewis is a 7x world champion, and and Max my own team mate has won 2, and he’s probably going to win this year by a landslide and then there’s Fernando again he has two championships, and then you’ve got all this new talent in Lando, and Charles and Carlos and now that Oscar is here, it’s getting tough” he admits and you softly smile at him.

“Where have all these doubts come from honey?” You ask, you knew he didn’t think he was the best driver, but he never once compared his abilities to individual drivers.

“Christian said that if I didn’t improve he’d replace me with Yuki, Liam or Daniel and that i might not even get a AlphaTauri seat as a replacement” he says putting his face in his hands with a soft sigh.

You pull him into a hug in which he nuzzles his head into your neck.

You are an incredible driver, there’s just such an insane amount of talent on the grid right now, you being one of them. World champion or not baby, your still one of only 20 drivers in the world that are here! Your a race winner and I’m so proud of everything you’ve done. You are incredible” you smile wrapping your arms around him while you feel him shake a little, presumably where he’s crying.

“Im just awful at it all. Driving, being a husband … you’ve been asking for a baby for 3 years and I keep telling you no because I’m so career focused but I can’t even seem to be good at that career” he complains and you almost laugh.

“Oh honey, I think you forget you are without a doubt the best thing that’s ever happened to me, child or no child. And where you aren’t ready because your at a point in your career that is crucial, I’ll always understand that darling. You are all I need, you are all I want. And I married you because I’m happy with you” you say tightening your hold on him.

“You know, I would never not be ready to have a kid. If you want one, we can have one. I’d never say no” he argues wiping his eyes and looking at you, only for you to release a breath of relief.

“Thank god, that night in Saudi Arabia really stuck” you admit and he cocks his head to the side not understanding. You take his hand and place it on your stomach, there wasn’t much of a bump, but a slight and minuscule weight gain was there. Enough that when he run his hand over your tummy he could feel it.

“Are you saying?” He asks and you nod.

“I know, I know it’s not the right time because your so stressed and I’ve been so nervous to tell you because I know you’ve had a lot on your plate since being in Red Bull and it was such a shock to me” you start to ramble thinking you should have waited.

“No this is the best news ever! This has made my day, my week, my year even!” He smiles before lifting you up and twirling you round.

“I love you” he says pulling you in for a kiss, happy with life.

And now he didn’t have anything to worry about, as long as he was able to provide for you and your child or children in the future he knew he could handle the pressure because now there was something else riding on it!

A/N: hey guys I didn’t realise tumblr only lets you do 50 tags per post! So I’m not sure what to do about taglist anymore? Any suggestions?

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount @styl1shl1v

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #sergio perez x you #sergio perez imagine #sergio perez x reader #sergio checo pérez #sergio perez #checo perez #sp11 x reader #sp11 #sp11 x you #sp11 fic

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lovesodakid · 29 days

Text

sworn to secrecy 2

chris x fem!reader

1 3 4 5 6

summary: chris and y/n have known each other, pretty much their whole lives. y/n has always had a crush on chris. chris always viewed y/n as ‘nate’s little sister’ until one day, he realized, she wasn’t so little anymore…which nate sees..in which. he does not approve of whatsoever. (“brothers best friend trope”)

warnings: mentions of toxic household (fighting). but that should be it.

____________________________________________

by the time lunch arrives, im exhausted. i walk down the hall, clutching my lunch bag to my chest through the flood of kids.

once i finally get to the cafeteria, i see nick, matt, nate, and chris sitting at the same table we’ve been sitting at since my freshman year. it’s comforting to know that some things never change.

“hey guys.” i say to them as i take my normal seat in between nate and nick. matt and chris being across from us.

“hey! how’s your first day going?” nick asks me.

“it’s..going.” i say hesitantly.

“i mean what i said in the car earlier, junior year isn’t anything to stress too much over. let loose and have fun, you’re always keeping your nose in books.” he tells me. “maybe you should go to the back to school party this weekend.”

“the what?” i ask. a party? already?

“yeah some senior is throwing it. christian davis i think.” matt says with a mouth full fries.

“yeah kid, you need to listen up. get out some more and have some fun.” chris reaches over the table to jokingly shove my shoulder.

i shake my head with a small laugh and smile.

“no way, a party isn’t y/n’s scene.” nate says as he shakes his head ‘no’.

“oh come on nate. i’ll watch over her, she’ll be fine.” nick says happily as he wraps an arm around my shoulder, giving me a one sided hug.

“guys i don’t need a babysitter. im not a child.” i roll my eyes.

“whatever.” nate mumbles under his breath.

the thought of going to a house full of sweaty, drunk teenagers party, genuinely terrifies me. but nick is right. i have spent almost every day of my school life, focused on school. i’ve never dated anyone or done anything that didn’t involve school. of course i’ve had some fun in my life, but nothing too crazy. maybe this could be the year i experience a little more?

it’s now been a couple hours since i left school. i stand in my shower, the warm water hitting my back, as the steam fogs up my bathroom. once i begin rubbing my shampoo in my hair, my mind retraces to the conversation at lunch. would going to this party be such a bad idea?

my thoughts are interrupted when i hear a door slamming from downstairs, freezing my body in fear for a second before i turn the water off and step out of the shower.

once im out and wrapped in a towel, i hear muffled voices yelling back and forth. i suck in a breath as i begin drying my body off and getting dressed.

when im done, i step out of the bathroom, to my surprise, nate is standing right in front of the bathroom door, giving me a sympathetic look.

“they’re arguing again. arent they?” i whisper to him.

he doesn’t say anything as he just hesitates to nod his head.

i bite my lip as i look to the side. “so what do you want me to do?” i ask him.

“i was thinking we could just go to the triplets and hang out for a bit, then i’ll come back later and see if things have cooled down and if it has, we can come back here tonight.” he explains to me as he crosses his arms.

“and what if it doesn’t cool down?” i question, mirroring his stance.

“just pack an overnight bag just incase.” he says as he walks away to his bedroom.

i let out a breath as i make my way to my bedroom. once im in there, i grab a separate bag to put things i’ll need in. clothes to sleep in, clothes for tomorrow, brush, makeup, deodorant, toothbrush and toothpaste, and other things.

almost as soon as im done, i grab both my school bag and overnight bag, i hear nate approaching my bedroom.

“hey you ready?” he says, almost sounding impatient.

i nod as i walk out of my room, closing my door.

“okay let’s go.” he says.

my favorite thing about the triplets, is that every time mine and nate’s parents get into arguments, which usually results in us having to stay at their house. they don’t treat us any different. they don’t give us any ‘are you okay?’ or ‘do you wanna talk about?’ looks. they just treat as as if it’s any normal day or sleepover. which im extremely thankful for.

“so what are we watching?” matt asks as he sits on the couch next to me.

all of us sitting in the living room nate and chris on the floor in front of the couch. then im sitting in the middle of the couch, matt on my left, and nick on my right.

“what about something scary?” i suggest.

“no way.” nick says in almost a sarcastic laugh.

“oh come on! we never watch scary movies!” i whine as i lean further into the couch.

“and we don’t plan on it either.” matt says from beside me.

after 20 minutes of arguing back and forth, trying to pick a movie. we finally settle on watching ‘grown ups’.

a couple minutes into the movie, i feel a weight on my lower legs, so i look down. when i do, i see chris leaning his back fully onto my legs for support, which makes me a little nervous, causing my heart to race a little faster than anticipated. once i begin to realize that he probably just needed something to lean back on and didn’t think anything of it like i did, that feeling goes away pretty quickly.

____________________________________________

a/n: pretty boring chapter again, and sorry i suck ass at dialogue. but it’ll get better, trust 🤞.

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic

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spacelazarwolf · 7 months

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I thought that I noticed some hypocrisy and contradiction in your posts but I'm not sure so i would appreciate it if you can clarify things for me bc I don't want to assume the worst. I'm just confused

So basically I feel like you are overly harsh on Christians while being very permissive to (religious) Jews. You act like even progressive Christians are super problematic and not allowed to reblog your posts and wtv, but then you turn around and say that all religious Jews are valid and should be accepted, including conservative and orthodox branches (forgive my ignorance if I'm wrong, but I'm pretty sure those are the ones that are very conservative and bigoted). So basically what I'm trying to say is that you seem to put conservative Jews on a higher level than progressive Christians which doesn't make sense to me.

I understand that conservative Christian, progressive Christians and anyone raised Christian pretty much has antisemitism that they have to work through. (I'm an ex Christian goyim atheist and your blog has really made me reconstruct some things which im grateful for btw!) But at the same time, antisemitism is only one bad thing that you can be.

So like to summarize I feel like antisemitism from progressive Christians is enough to make you tell them to dni but other kinds of bigotry like homophobia, transphobia, sexism etc from conservative Jews doesn't stop you from saying their religious is totally fine and acceptable.

Again, this is not an accusation, but more of a question. (Even though I probably phrased it like an attack in sorry!) I don't really know if I analyzed the situation correctly and I would really just want to have a chill interaction with you instead of a heated argument. If you could please explain how exactly you view this issue i would very grateful but you are under no obligation! If you don't feel like explaining yourself to a complete stranger, you are free to just ignore this. Have a meaningful Yom Kippur!

(sorry for the rambling post lol)

i made the mistake of absentmindedly opening the tumblr app on my walk to synagogue and i did not think i could be surprised by gentile fuckery anymore but this has left me pretty speechless. the audacity to send this on yom kippur is. wow. i regret not locking my phone away for 25 hours because fucking YIKES. please come off anon so i can block you because i do not want you interacting with me or any of my content.

#ask avishai #jewish #jumblr

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sgiandubh · 6 months

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Hello how are you? I follow several shippers' blogs and I noticed that every now and then some bloggers publish hateful messages they received. My question is about mental health: how do you deal with it? I understand that your presence here is relatively recent, but have you ever regretted something?

Dear Mental Health Anon,

This is the kind of submissions I welcome with all my heart, because they are benevolent and witty. Forgive me already for what I suspect will be a long answer. It is not the pleasure of hearing me talk that prompts them, but the sincere intention to answer deserving asks as clearly, fully and honestly as I can.

The short answer is : I am fine, Fall is slowly coming and nights are starting to be really chilly. There's some light rain tapping on the roof of my flat and I will spend my week-end wandering around some of my favorite places on Earth. And now, onwards to the consistent and interesting ask of yours...

The worst trolling message I have ever seen in this fandom is the one I am immediately going to post below, because I think it should serve us all as warning and reminder. It was posted on a blog I have been reading from the beginning of my long lurking days on Tumblr: @cb4tb is one of the most balanced and articulate people in this corner of the Internet. I remember being shocked by its cold and very coherent violence. The feat of a casebook sociopath, who thinks her asks in Spanish (I am 200% certain about it) and who has an appalling command of English grammar. Written on Christmas' Eve and on purpose:

Compared to the alarming slander @cb4tb got (whatever for is a mystery, she is non conflictual and posts very witty business insights) on a day that should be completely taboo for every civilized human being (you don't need to believe in God to respect one of Christianity's most important celebrations), whatever hate I could get in here is definitely subpar. Most of it did not make it on my page and went straight to the bin. But it's not always easy: I am as human as you, Anon, and sometimes I feel personally insulted and revolted by the smugness and pettiness of it all. However, I must immediately add their hate never made me give up an inch of my convictions. They are the result of a long interval of watching and pondering, coupled with my own observations I gladly share with like-minded women all around the world. That often hits a nerve or bruises overinflated egos on the Other Side. So be it: I am not here to be meek and obedient, if I never was meek and obedient in real life. I am here to bring clarity and build trust, which incidentally resonates very closely to what I do for a living. That probably rates me as a moderate on the shipper spectrum, in the sense that by complete design I put aside some divisive topics I firmly chose not to discuss. I am not interested to bring attention on me, in here, and the least thing I'd like is to be a vector of discord. So that would also rate me as a peacemaker of sorts - and yes, that sounds perhaps pretentious, but I believe it is needed, especially now.

I only felt a clear intention to threaten me twice, both in DM. The first time it curiously came from one extreme fringe of the shipper community and I brushed it off, because it was an empty, almost ridiculous threat. I politely denied and that was it - two persons blocked me and there were no other consequences to it. The second time, an anti came to confront me on an irrelevant point, with a very aggressive undertone. I blocked and almost forgot about it. If you have it clear enough in your mind that such things cannot be avoided and, at the same time, you know that your own moral compass is not compromised, these details will not affect you. At all. I confidently promise you that. Last but not least: if you are not great with compartmentalizing, don't step in the arena. It can seriously ruffle your self-esteem and it's not worth it.

So this is how I deal with it: I focus on what I have to say (does it bring something new? interesting? positive? thought-provoking?), on the way of saying it (above all, be kind and gracious to every other shipper) and on the right moment to say it (only when I am honestly sure I can do it with no unwanted consequences). But I will stand in solidarity with any shipper (any single one of them) who is humiliated, belittled or disparaged, with not a single shred of fear in the world. And I would also fend for myself if necessary, if I am getting over-the-top slander: all the other yapping, I ignore. Sometimes (often, even) it's more interesting to watch.

And if anything else fails, I go for a long drive and have a coffee at the seaside or simply open a book or listen to some Bach or call Someone. Or take this little big guy out for a lazy walk in the park:

You ask me if I regret anything. Absolutely not. I have received more than I could ever give, in here. I have met spectacular women and men, I have grown very fond of and feel very close to. I have had the immense satisfaction of sharing their secrets, their worries, their plans and this means trust, in my book, for which I will never tire saying how grateful I am. I also strived to respond in kind and I mean to honor this unwritten contract. Last but not least, I have watched this community slowly dusting off months of sadness and perhaps starting to open up again.

And all of this makes me damn proud of who we are, Anon. Thank you for dropping by! You are always welcome on my page.

#Anon

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sardonic-the-writer · 3 months

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𝐁𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐫𝐨𝐲 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐀𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ warnings: none

↳ song: undone - the sweater song—weezer

masterlist! | commissions | carrd

• Rooming with Troy and Abed had been one of the easiest decisions of your life. Two years of friendship and student debt loans really did a lot to convince a person

• You were a little worried about the actual process of moving, considering what happened last time the study group got together to move, but it ended up going pretty smooth. Jeff didn't even try to pretend he was sick this time, something that Britta sarcastically applauded him for. And Shirley held back from judging you about your lack of Christian memorabilia. She instead resorted to clutching her cross necklace tighter than the time she found out Britta smoked pot

• In between lugging boxes and bedframes around, Annie reassured you over and over that she was totally fine with you taking up the apartment vacancy instead of her. She was honestly looking forward to her new place just off the cusp of campus grounds. Said it would be easier to get in for a midnight study session. Whatever that meant

• You just nodded slowly and excused yourself to pack in a different corner

• Troy and Abed on the other hand were absolutely stoked throughout the move. So much so, that they put most of their shenanigans on pause to get the move over faster. Most of them.

• "Abed, untie Troy from the chair. I need to put that in the back of my car. You can do that when we get to your place."

• "Ten more minutes?"

• "No, guys."

• "Aw man."

• The next few hours ran as smooth as they could with eight people trying to walk up two flights of stairs. Eventually, everything got unloaded into the living room, and excuses were made as why people had to leave. Some more elegantly than others

• "Yeah, as much as I'd love to stay and watch you three nerds discuss which Batman poster goes where—" Jeff hummed as he typed away on his phone, "—I've got places to be and women to charm."

• "What he said!"

• "Pierce, I don't think there's a single lady out there that would touch you with a ten foot pole." You deadpanned

• "Ertha Kitt did. And she did more than just touch me—"

• "Okay. Out."

• Troy and Abed surprised you that night with a new pair of pajamas to match their own, and an impromtu Inspector Spacetime marathon

•Both of them beamed when you came out into the living room later wearing it. A part of you figured they were just happy that you were cool with your blanket fort, though

• You ended up sitting criss crossed on top of an unpacked box while they took to their knockoff la-z-boys

• "Do you guys think we should actually unpack things before starting the next episode?" You asked at some point late into the night, glancing at the blinking analog clock on the TV stand

• "No." Abed answered you without even looking up from the end credits

• "Yeah me neither." You grinned. "I want to see if Reggie kills any blorgons this time."

• All in all, becoming their third best friend and tennant was one of the best decisions any of you had made—even if it did take you a month to convince Troy and Abed to let you take partial room in the dreamatorium

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death-munchkin · 6 months

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I have come to the conclusion that there is a very very large overlap in the people who assume that Astarion is "secretly uncomfortable" with a polyam relationship with Halsin and people who a) have zero social awareness, or b) are polyphobic, or c) both. Astarion is not uncomfortable with polyamory, he is uncomfortable participating in sex. Those are two very different things. Astarion is insecure about his ability to be a 'fulfilling' partner to Tav due to his aversion to sex, and that is a perfectly natural fear almost everyone who's ever been repulsed by or reluctant to participate in sex can attest to. My fellow Ace and/or sex repulsed people you should know well how scary it can be to not feel sure that your partner is satisfied. Astarion at no point sounds sad about the proposal, with the exception when specifically asking if it's because he hasn't been putting out enough recently (Note, Astarion and Tav would not have had sex at this point for a wee while), and if Tav reassures him that he is special to them just the way he is, he is genuinely happy.

"But he doesn't enjoy having sex with the Drow twins." My dear sweet child, he explicitly says he's not ready for that yet. At no point does he pretend to be okay with it only to secretly not be. He clearly and firmly says he is not okay with it, and you only get the narration about him seeming empty if you pressure him into it. This does not happen with Halsin. I repeat. This does not happen with Halsin! Astarion never, I repeat NEVER says anything akin to "not being sure" or "I don't know", or "I'm not ready for this" in regards to Halsin's proposition, while he CLEARLY says that about the Drow twins.

Why, you may then ask, is he uncomfortable with the Drow twins but not Halsin? Well, for one, the Drow twins are sex workers. And while in this house we 100% respect love and support all sex workers, they were unfortunately likely targets during his thrall days, and they almost certainly open up some wounds he's not ready to explore yet. Secondly, with the Drow twins he is pressured to participate. Again, Astarion is uncomfortable participating in sex, not with polyamory as a whole. Astarion would be uncomfortable being pressured into basic vanilla christian one on one sex with Tav just as much as he would be uncomfortable being pressured into sex with the Drow twins. That has nothing to do with polyamory. He would not be and is not uncomfortable with Tav having sex with, kissing or flirting with Halsin, as long as he is at no point forced to or pressured to physically participate himself.

Consider why every other character who is against a relationship with Halsin explicitly says so (for those of you who compare Astarion to Karlach, Karlach does explicitly say she is against it.) Consider how every single time Astarion is against something, with the exception of some events in Act 1, he explicitly says so. Consider how Astarion literally does bring up something that concerns him in that very conversation, and clearly states his concerns regarding his own sexual availability, but at no point even hints at being uncomfortable with Tav's romantic/sexual interests. And perhaps consider why you are so intent on having characters be "secretly against polyamory".

Because I will die on the hill that Astarion is a sex repulsed polyam sexual (possibly mono-romantic) pan gremlin of a man. edit to clarify: This post is about people who are insistent on that assumption, as in, refuse to accept that they may be mistaken, or that their assumption is exactly that, an assumption with no direct proof to support it. I don't mind people who headcanon, you live your life I'll live mine, I mind people who assume he's secretly against it, and then state that as fact and canon when it simply isn't, it's a headcanon, an assumption, a plot you would like to believe, NOT something established by direct canon evidence. If you prefer to read him as uncomfortable, that's fine and none of my business. If you prefer to read him as secretly strictly monogamous and either too insecure to speak up or doesn't realize it himself, that's fine and none of my business. Hell, if you draw fanart about it and write a whole ass 100 million word fanfic creating a whole new alternate universe which becomes more popular than the game itself, it's still fine and none of my business. But the second you speak your opinion and assert that it's fact, I have just as much a right to speak my opinion and tell you you're wrong.

#baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate iii #Astarion #astarion romance #astarion is polyam #I will die on this hill

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mounts89 · 1 year

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Passenger Seat | Mason Mount

Pairing: Mason Mount x Reader

Summary: Fell in love with you in my passenger seat.

Warnings: Slight suggestive content, cursing

Word count: 2k+

Note: Back with another Mason blurb idea thing, I hope you like it! 🥺

The time read 3:02 am as you woke up to the third missed call from Mason in the past five minutes. Your heart immediately begins to race, worrying that something might have happened to him. You call him back, and he answers almost as quickly as you had pressed call.

“Hi, Y/N” you hear his cheerful voice through the speakers of your phone.

“Mase. Are you okay? Is everything okay?” you ask him. “Why do I have so many missed calls?”

“First off, I’m okay darling. But I am outside your house. Come outside, let’s go for a drive.” he says sheepishly.

“Are you mad? I thought something happened to you. Plus, have you seen the time? I look terrible, first of all and I feel bad sneaking out of my house like this, second of all. My parents will be so worried if they wake up and I’m not here.” you scold him.

At the same time that you finish your sentence, however, you put him on loud speaker as you begin frantically looking around your room for your makeup to somewhat make yourself look presentable. Knowing that you’d cave in and go out with him in any case.

“You look great. And, just be very quiet when you leave the house, your dad will never even know you were gone.” he tries to reassure you.

Your mind races as you apply a touch of makeup, not wanting Mason to see you so vulnerably yet. You slip on the closest pair of leggings and hoodie you can spot. You also can’t shake that feeling of guilt of sneaking out. As much as you were an adult, you felt that you owed your parents a sense of respect.

“Y/N, you there?” he asks after a few moments of silence.

“Yeah, I’m here. Just… I’ll be out in a bit.” you tell him before hanging up as you run to brush your teeth before heading out.

With a rush of excitement and nervousness, you walk towards the entrance door. Trying to rationalize if sneaking out at this time to spend time with Mason was even something you should be considering. You pause for a moment, taking a deep breath. Part of you wants to turn back, but the other part of you just wants to see Mason. That part of you that is sure has been falling in love with him, overrides the feeling of fear of getting caught. So you carefully open and close the door trying to minimize the noise and you spot him waiting for you in his car.

He rolls down the window of the passenger seat as he sees you appear out of you house, and he greets you with a wave and that ever-so-characteristic-of-him grin. The one you’d seen him reserve for when he talked about the things and people he really loved, like his nieces and nephew, and Chelsea.

“Don’t you have training in a couple of hours? Can’t you be fined for things like being out too late?” you begin interrogating him as you try to hide the smile that was forming on your lips as he begins to drive, seemingly with no destination.

“Couldn’t stop thinking of you. Wanted to see you again. I guess I’m risking everything for you, and that’s alright with me.” he tells you half-seriously half-joking as he sees you trying to connect to his car’s bluetooth so you can take control of the music.

You turn to look at him, rolling your eyes at the fact that he seemed to sweep you off your feet with his sweet talking.

You see a couple of familiar names pop up on his car’s bluetooth before you try to connect to your own phone. Chilly, Christian, Nathan. You hadn’t met them, but you felt that you knew them from how much he had talked to you about them. You also, however, see some unfamiliar ones.

You can’t help the feelings that form in the pit of your stomach. The jealously, the anger and the insecurity. However, you and Mason had never talked about being official. In theory he was well within his right to go on car rides with other girls. In practice, though, you hoped he wasn’t doing that.

“I have to ask, Mason. Do you also pick up… Jaz and Chloe from their houses at 3 am and risk everything for them?” you joke along with him.

“If you must know, Y/N. I would risk everything for Jaz. She’s my sister, Summer’s mom.” he begins and waits for your response. To which, you simply nod, having heard so much of Summer and how strongly their bond was.

He pauses before continuing, “And, Chloe. She’s my ex. It ended a couple of years ago. We were both very young. I haven’t thought about it but I guess I’ve not had a girl connect to my car since then.” he answers as he pulls a strand of loose hair behind your ear and settles his hand on your thigh, “but you have nothing to be jealous of, as you are the only girl who I have ever liked as much as to want to spend time with her at 3 am, 3pm and everything in between.”

“I was not jealous.” you lie, knowing he could read you better but he doesn’t press the matter further.

You finally connect your phone to his surround system and you start shuffling through your driving playlist. You analyze his reaction to the first few songs, skipping them all until you find one that he sings along to, turning up the volume.

You get so lost in the moment, loving the way his voice was just slightly off key, as he dramatically keeps looking between you and the road and he attempts to serenade you. To be honest, you weren’t paying much attention to the words, that was until he abruptly stops at a stop sign and turns to look at you.

“I’ll be your brightside, BABY, TONIGHT.” he half sings half yells along to The Lumineers looking into your eyes.

You lower your gaze, embarrassed at how quickly and easily the effect he had on you became evident. He smirks as he notices and parks a few metres ahead of the stop sign, at a small park with a stunning view of the city.

You turn down the volume of your phone, anticipating what you’d do next. Just happy to be there with him. He inclines both yours and his seat, and you look back noticing that the backseats were down to give you more room. Seems like he had thought this through.

He then opens the sunroof directly on top of your seats and you’re treated to a breathtaking view of the starry night. Taking hold of your hand, he brings it to his lips before placing a chaste kiss and then placing it close to his chest.

You both lay down in silence for a few minutes, just enjoying each other’s presence and the simple yet intimate activity of stargazing. The only sounds you could distinguish: the faint sound of your songs playing, your hearts beating and your shaky breaths.

“I think that’s Cassiopeia,” you say pointing towards the constellation, outlining the W shape with your fingers. “It’s like an upside down M for Mason Mount but not really.”

He points along with you, seeing him pull out his phone to snap a picture of the sky. He inches closer to you, surely testing your willpower as you take in his scent, “Wason Wount, if you will, but I don’t see it.”

“Look harder, Wason.” you whisper turning towards him. His body is barely touching yours and you look into his eyes. The air between you becoming thicker than before.

He slowly leans into you, hand gently caressing the side of your face as he closes the gap between your lips. Like most of your kisses, it starts soft and tender at first. Gently exploring each other’s mouth, becoming intoxicated with each other. And again, like most of your kisses, the passion grows. The kiss becoming more and more intense. Pressing your lips against each other more urgently, he gently bits your lip as you moan and his tongue explores your mouth. In a swift movement, he grabs your thighs and brings you towards his seat, straddling his lap. You wrap your arms around his check, pulling him as close as humanly possibly, deepening the kiss.

He reluctantly pulls away before your kisses escalate any further. You both struggle to catch your breath for a few seconds. The kisses leaving you with your blood rushing into your head, wanting more. You look into his eyes as you see the raw emotion in them, feeling dizzy with desire.

“As much as I’d love to continue this. And trust me I would. I’ve thought about it a lot more than I’d care to admit. But, I have imagined us, you know, in a much more comfortable and romantic place.” he laughs lightly tapping your bum.

“Prude.” you tell him as you move off his lap and sit back onto the passenger seat.

The two of you lay back down, entwined in each other's arms, watching the stars twinkle above; trying to point out more constellations.

As the night passes, you both talk and share more pieces of yourselves, learning more about each other and feeling that, surely, if you weren’t already, you were falling in love with him.

Somewhere along the conversation, you had both fallen into a comfortable asleep in his car, with his arms holding your waist tightly.

The warmth of the sun wakes you up and you shuffle around to see Mason asleep with a slow and steady breathing pattern, and a small smile on his face.

You immediately see that it was bright out and that the windows had fogged up. Your mind starts to wonder just how long you’d been asleep, and how long you’d been out.

“Shit, Mase. It’s 6:43. Wake up.” you nudge him as you check your phone.

“Come on, babe just five more minutes.” he tries to grab onto you, trying to get you to cuddle him some more.

“I don’t wanna go. But I have to.” you say just above a whisper, trying not to overthink the way him calling you babe for the first time made you feel.

“I know, I don’t wanna say goodnight yet either. But, I gotta get you home so your parents won’t know. I want them to like me when I meet them for the first time.” he mutters as he begins to wake up.

“What makes you so sure I want you to meet my parents?” you challenge.

It was a subject you hadn’t touched yet. As much as you liked him, you had never discussed if you two were exclusive. Or, if he even wanted to introduce you each other to your lives like that. You hadn’t met each other’s friends or family, having kept your whatever-you-two-were to yourselves. So, you thread around the subject lightly.

“Because, I got you a gift.” he voices as he stretches towards the backseat, where a gift bag was sitting on the floor. “I had this whole thing planned out. Sunrise was at 5:57 am today. I checked before picking you up. I was gonna say you were my sunshine and everything. But I guess we missed that about an hour ago, so I hope you’ll still like it.”

He hands you the bag, sensing the nerves and anxiety he had as he was waiting for you to open it.

You chuckle at how endearing he was when he become flustered. It wasn’t a side of him you had seen much, as he usually carried himself with a confidence you admired.

“This is super cheesy.” you state, as you start to unpack the contents of the bag — the Chelsea jersey with his name and number and one ticket for the next home match in a few days.

“It is not. But, Christian is injured, I already told him to keep you company that day. I’m hoping you want to meet the rest of my friends after. I really want to introduce them to you as… well, as my girl.” he gazed at you with a shy smile.

You couldn’t help but giggle as you reply, “I would love to go to the game as your girl. And to meet your friends as your girl. And to do all that, as you girl. I was starting to worry you didn’t like me like that.”

“You know how much I like you. I just had to build the courage, Y/N. But fuck… I’m so fucking happy.” he expresses sincerely, before moving closer to you, pressing a kiss on your head. His lips linger for a few seconds. It was a small gesture he’d always do. One you were beginning to love. “My girl.”

“My girl,” he whispers again, “I can’t believe it. Me and you’ve got something special. I have never been so sure of anything in my life.”

“I’m so happy too.” you say with tears threatening to spill. “But, you need to take me home before I embarrass myself and start crying in front of you.”

“I think that would be very cute. But, because I don’t want to make my girl cry this early into our relationship I’ll do as you say. But we’re taking the long way home.”

____________________________________________

As you wake up the next day, you see a notification pop up on your phone.

Mason Mount has posted a new instagram story.

#chelsea fc #footballer fanfiction #mason mount #mason mount fanfic #mason mount fanfiction #mason mount fluff #mason mount x reader #mason x reader #mason mount concept #mason mount blurb #mason mount smut #england nt #england nt fanfic #footballer x reader #footballer fanfic

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