#after everything that was done to his brother. I feel like that would have just torn Lucien up inside
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okay. au thing (?) i needed to get out of my head (its been sitting there for 2 months) its pretty half baked so bear with me
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more context/ drawings under the cut:
im not sure if this has been done before, im pretty out of it fandom wise,, but!! this takes place during "Time Traveler's Pig" (s1 ep9)
the idea is that, while fighting over the time tape, dipper and mabel end up running into krampus and henceforth get taken by the krampus and the time tape gets dropped/ left behind in the process (classic)
ford hears the ruckus ofc and goes to investigate like he does in tbob j3 pages and also gets taken by krampus,, dipper and mabel see him and assume it must be a young stan or something bc at this point in the show they don't know anything!
they've never met bill, they only really know/remember mcgucket from the gobblewonker, and they don't know stan has a brother
so they just assume life was hard on stan and he looks different because he's younger (something still feels off to them ofc)
anyway story proceeds how it does in canon, ford is arguing at the krampus while dipper and mabel remember that they dropped the time tape and are also trying to plot a way out, mcgucket shows up and saves the day, and because dipper and mabel don't really know where to go from here, they decide to see if that guy is stan (which he is but not the one they're thinking of)
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they all make their way back to the lab/shack for the time being, dipper and mabel find the time tape on the way back and it's damaged (another classic) so ford and mcgucket will have to fix it ofc
some conversations are exchanged, information is gleaned, dipper and mabel watch tv to pass the time and end up seeing on of stan's commercials on the tv and the dots start to slowly connect that something is going on here
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those are the more. fleshed out concepts, everything else is pretty vague and undecided but ill also probably never revisit this
some more details/thoughts:
- ford is wearing no winter clothes bc im assuming when he grabbed the lantern to investigate the foot prints, he didn't think much and just threw on his boots or something, which is why he has to take refuge in that cave to stave off frostbite
- dipper and mabel don't connect that old man mcgucket is fiddleford mcgucket bc i don't think they a) think about mcgucket that much to make that connection at this point and b) assume he's just related and not the same person given how old old man mcgucket looks
-dipper does have the journal on him but he's keeping it hidden ofc just in case,, after they find out about stan he'd find out ford is the author probably but i don't want him figuring it out beforehand bc it would complicate things (i also don't think hed show ford his journal bc of. time/ space continuum reasons
- maybe bill will show up or something i dunno. dipper and mabel are armed with the j3 that knows bill is dangerous but they've also never met bill
- idk if they'll find out about the portal, idk if mabel will try and bring stan and ford together, idk what happens,, maybe the time police catch them before they do anything,, shrugging my shoulders
-this au doesn't really have a point i just wanted to draw it bc its fun for me to think about the implications !!
#long post#gravity fall au#crumbs of an au anyway idk#this is kind of nothing burger sorry#if this doesn't make sense im blaming sleep deprivation#gravity falls#dipper pines#mabel pines#stanford pines#fiddleford mcgucket
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“Why We Can’t Let a 4-Year-Old in Our Car Videos Again”
Sturniolo x 4year old sister
The Sturniolo triplets had done hundreds of car videos, but today’s was going to be very different.
For the first time ever, they were letting their four-year-old little sister, Y/N, join them in the car. She had been begging to be in a video, and after weeks of relentless puppy-dog eyes, they finally gave in.
Chris, however, was already regretting it.
—
[CAMERA RECORDING]
Matt adjusted the camera on the dashboard, making sure it was angled perfectly. As always, he was in the driver’s seat, Chris was in the passenger seat, and Nick sat in the back.
Except this time, there was a tiny pink car seat next to Nick.
“Alright, what’s up, guys! Welcome back to the channel,” Matt said, starting the intro. “Today, we have a very special guest.”
Chris turned around in his seat, smirking at Y/N. “Everyone, meet our little sister, Y/N.”
Y/N waved excitedly, her pigtails bouncing. “Hiiiiii!!!”
Nick grinned. “Are you excited to be in the car with us today?”
Y/N nodded aggressively. “Yes! I wanna do all the funny jokes!”
Chris chuckled. “Alright, we’ll see what you got.”
Matt smirked. “Alright, first question for Y/N. Who’s your favorite brother?”
Y/N gasped, suddenly looking very stressed. She turned her head dramatically, looking at each of them.
“Uhhhh…”
Chris raised an eyebrow. “Better choose wisely.”
Nick added, “Yeah, you don’t wanna hurt anyone’s feelings.”
Y/N frowned in deep thought. Then, finally, she said, “I pick… mommy.”
The car erupted in laughter.
Chris facepalmed. “Wow. Betrayed in 4K.”
Matt shook his head. “Nah, that’s actually hilarious.”
Y/N giggled. “Okay, okay, ask me another one!”
Nick smirked. “Alright, Y/N. If you had one superpower, what would it be?”
Y/N clapped her hands together. “TO BE A KITTY.”
Chris snorted. “Why does every little kid wanna be a cat?”
Y/N shrugged. “Because then I don’t have to eat broccoli.”
Matt laughed. “She’s got a point.”
—
The video continued on, full of laughs and random jokes. Everything was going great until, inevitably, things took a turn.
Chris, being Chris, made a joke that was definitely not four-year-old appropriate.
Matt had just finished telling a funny story when Chris smirked. “Dude, that was so funny, I almost busted.”
Nick, immediately catching on, wheezed in the backseat. Matt grinned but tried to keep it together.
And then…
“Busted what?”
Silence.
Nick’s laughter cut off. Matt and Chris froze.
Chris turned slowly, only to see Y/N blinking at them with pure confusion.
Matt immediately coughed. “Uh—busted… uh…”
Chris looked panicked. “Like… busted a��um—a move! Like dancing.”
Nick, covering his mouth, tried so hard not to laugh.
Y/N’s eyes narrowed. “Then why didn’t you just say that?”
Chris stammered. “Uh—because—I—”
Y/N tilted her head. “What does ‘busted’ mean?”
Matt gripped the steering wheel. “Okay, new topic—”
But Y/N wasn’t letting it go.
“Nick, what does ‘busted’ mean?”
Nick immediately shook his head. “Nope. Don’t involve me.”
Y/N turned to Chris. “Chris?”
Chris gulped. “Uhhhhh…”
Y/N’s tiny legs kicked the air. “Why won’t you tell me?!”
Chris sighed dramatically. “Because you’re four! Y/N.”
Y/N pouted. “But I wanna knoooow.”
Matt smirked. “Y/N, some jokes are just for big kids.”
Y/N gasped. “So I’ll know when I’m a big kid?!”
Chris nodded. “Yup. When you’re older.”
Y/N thought about that for a second, then smiled. “Okay!”
Chris let out a breath. “Crisis averted.”
Nick leaned toward the camera. “This is why we don’t put a four-year-old in our videos.”
Chris turned around. “Y/N, say bye to the camera.”
Y/N waved excitedly. “BYE, EVERYBODY! I LOVE YOU!”
Chris shook his head, laughing. “Alright, cut the video before she asks another question we can’t answer.”
—
CUT.
#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#matt stuniolo fanfic#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x you#christopher sturniolo#nick sturniolo#matt sturniolo x reader#sturniolo smut#matthew sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo series#sturniolo streams#sister sturniolo
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Birds of a Feather
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Pairing: daddy!rafe x maybank!little!reader
Warnings: light age regression, heavy angst, major character death, jj is readers twin, no happy ending, word count: 1,3k, I apologize for all possible tears I'll cause with this...
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You are in shock, holding the dagger coated in blood in your trembling hand as you stare down at one of Dalia's men who just tried to choke you to death, only to be met with a stab to his side and then his chest multiple times as you managed to straddle him.
You couldn't believe what you just had done. You never imagined that things would escalate this bad, but here you are, looking at the person whose life you just took to save your own.
Even with the current sand storm going on and your lungs burning like hell you can't get yourself to move, until you feel someone grabbing your arms and hoisting you up.
Instantly you began to struggle, not hearing or recognizing the person talking to you as you're still in surviving mode.
"Hey, hey! It's me, Rafe." He snaps, grabbing your wrist tight so you can't move and do something you might regret later on. "Look at me. Here."
He lifts his one hand to show you his ring that you're all too familiar with, having turned it on his finger multiple times whenever you are anxious.
Slowly you start to calm down, your whole body shaking.
"Give me the knife..." He says slowly to not set you off, gently taking the dagger from your tight grip. "That's it. I got you."
Soon he has it pocketed away and grabs your hand, tugging you along with him somewhere safe from any more of Dalia's men and the storm.
Your brain couldn't really function at the moment, only trying to focus on Rafe as he leads you to safety.
You want so badly to regress right now but you know you can't, not now, it's far too dangerous and risky to let yourself be vulnerable to those who are possibly still after you.
"Come on, keep going. We gotta find the others." Rafe's voice occasionally pulls you out of your thoughts.
Then you suddenly hear some shout not far away from you.
"John b! Pope! Y/N!" You can make out Kie screaming repeatedly on top of her lungs, detaching yourself from Rafe's grasp as you run towards where the shouting comes from.
"Kie! Where are you?" You yell desperately, having a gut feeling that something's incredibly wrong. "JJ!"
After almost tripping over different obstacles you soon reach the others, seeing the most terrible nightmare to come true.
JJ, your twin brother, the person you've practically been attached to the hip since birth, is sitting unmoving on the ground with a dark and fresh stain of blood on the same area of his abdomen that you patched up after Groff's first attempt of killing him.
"JJ..." You whisper, falling onto your knees beside him as John B and Kie move a little to the side. "Hey, c'mon..."
You take his face in your hands, almost flinching by how cold he feels already, your eyes moving down to where he got stabbed.
"You- You gotta wake up. You hear me? JJ!" Your voice starts to crack, slightly shaking him to wake him up as you did your whole life whenever he slept almost the whole day when you and the pogues had plans.
No. It can't be. This is all just some cruel joke of his. He isn't gone. He's just messing with you. He is okay. Right? He has to be.
"Jayj...please- I can't- I can't do this without you." You begin to sob heavily, your breathing pattern uneven as you choke on your tears that uncontrollably flow down your cheeks.
You pull him against you, cradling his head against your chest as you press a kiss to the top of his sandy hair. "Pwease...you pwomised..."
This is all your fault. You shouldn't have left him alone, stick with him and keep an eye on him. You were so close to having everything. He promised that everything would be okay, he pinky swore it to you.
You fight against whoever is trying to pull you away from your brother, sobbing and talking incoherently as you only want to be close to him.
"Shh, shh, I'm here." Rafe whispers into your ear, wrapping his arms around you to immobilize you. "Shh, deep breaths."
You only manage to shake your head violently, trembling in his arms as you have to watch the others picking JJ off the ground.
Now you're sitting between Rafe's legs on the ground near the fire that Cleo set up, your back against his chest as you stare blankly at the crinkling fire, fiddling with JJ's shark tooth necklace.
You don't know what to think or let's say you can't.
You're completely in denial of what happened in the last hours, even when Rafe dug his grave, or when you carefully slid the rings - handing Kie the one he stole for during his crash out - off his fingers and the necklace around his neck, not even when you all lowered him inside the grave and watched Rafe close it up again.
Rafe finally decides to break the silence. "Groff said he was going to Lisbon. I don't know. If it was my friend...or brother." He says, adjusting his hold around you. "I'd probably just go after the guy that just killed him. Groff was already dead set on getting rid of JJ, he will definitely go after Y/N too. She's the last living heir of the Genrettes."
Nobody says anything at first, but they know there's truth behind his words. Groff won't stop until he gets what he wants, that means you're still in extreme danger as this man won't hesitate to kill you as well should he get the chance.
"He's not wrong." Kie speaks up. "You think JJ would sit here if it was one of us or worse his own sister? You think he'd do nothing?" She shakes her head, standing up.
"We all know what JJ would do." John says lowly. "He'd get even."
You get up as well, everyone looking at you as they expect you to say something but you simply walk off to where JJ is buried.
They watch after you as you walk, but decide to leave you be, knowing that this whole situation affects you more than anyone at the moment.
You stand right in front of the makeshift grave, taking a shakily breath as you lift your gaze to the night sky, seeing a particular star shining more than any other.
"M'sowwy...Jay. S-So much..." You manage to whimper out before the tears start to well up again, collapsing onto your knees. "I-I luv you..."
What JJ feared the most was being alone, and now, he's buried here in Morocco, so far from home it hurts knowing you won't even be able to visit him whenever you want to.
You keep crying until you feel someone sitting down next to you, letting the person pull you on their lap and cradle you against them.
"It's okay...just let it out." Rafe shushes you, rocking you back and forth to comfort even just the slightest bit. "Daddy's got you."
He knows you are regressed right now, hell neither him or the others can blame you. You're the last person he wants to see so broken and hopeless.
"I-I luv him...he- he pwomised." You sob into his neck and his heart hurts at the sight, hating that he can't do anything to make your pain go away.
"I know, I know." He murmurs, resting his chin on top of your head.
You keep crying until your body can't produce more tears, feeling safe in Rafe's protective hold as your breathing starts to regulate again.
"I swear...I'll go after Groff, even if it's the last thing I do. I'll make sure he suffers for everything he's put you through, and get the crown for you." He mutters against your hair, tightening his hold on you.
You can't get yourself to answer, too worn out to move a single muscle.
Groff will pay, sooner or later, there's no running away for him anymore. He'll pay.
For JJ.
#little!reader#daddy!rafe cameron x little!reader#daddy!rafe cameron#daddy!rafe x little!reader#daddy!rafe
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Crack Theory: Zym Will Be the One To Save Claudia
Sounds crazy right? But here me out, I may be huffing some major copium right now and it requires some other headcannons to come true but when you think about it... this could be a really cool thing for them to do.
Zym can talk now, which means he's gonna need to be a charatcer and do character things, what better way to do that then take a crack at saving Claudia and bringing a new perspective the others didn't? Picking up where they failed?
In order to be saved now, after all the damage that's been done to her, she's going to need two things in my eyes.
A lot of empathy. Those who try to save her need to have sympathy and empathy for her situation and while not agreeing with what she did, have the understanding of why she did them and what she's going through, and have the ability to be patient with her and help her when she's struggling. This is going to be hard for a lot of the cast. Rayla definitely can not do this because she just downright hates her (she spent the two year time jump trying to kill her) so she's out. The rest, their emphathy has been spent potentially after their failed attempts to save her, which were, not very successful for a variety of reasons i.e tricking her with a fake mom (diabolical) or straight up making her feel gaslit. (I'm referencing the "I think we have different bone feelings" it's important to note that I don't think Soren was gaslighting her because he truly believed in what he said, but to someone like her, it can come across as gaslighting.) Or not giving her the time of day, but that's not the point. The point is that the rest of the cast feels they've done all they can, even Soren feels that way, remember he begs Terry to let him kill her! While we don't know where Zym stands on this, we can start to sow some doubt in his mind about the dragaang's methods. This will not only help explain why Zym wants to try and take a crack at saving Claudia but also help develop him into his own character who isn't just Ezran 2.0. Maybe him and Ez can even have a disagreement over this at some point! Wouldn't it be cool to see an argument or a bit of a temporary falling out between these two? Zym has been shown to be extremely emphathetic so far, similar to Ezran and has a chance that he could feel like he could bring something new to the table that the gang hasn't tried before which I will get into later. (ANNNNDDDDD, if a certain headcannon holds true he might be perfect for the job)
A proper addressing of Xadia's crimes. Yes, she's definitely going to need this. What Xadia did in the past drives a lot of her character, maybe not as much as family but it's a huge motivator, and it must sting really hard when her own brother contradicts everything with "I don't have the same bone feelings". It could easily be going through her mind right now like "Are you crazy? after everything they did to us your just all lovey dovey with them? Like it just didn't happen?". Someone is going to need to acknowledge what happened, clearly and definitively and also apologize for it and deliver the promise that they will make sure it will never happen again. Now... who better to deliver this message to her than the literal King of The Dragons himself who literally has the power to make it never happen again? Could this cure her instantly? No, maybe not... Claudia is hurting badly and the scars run deep, but that could be the beginning to set off a chain reaction that Zym could help her through by instilling point 1.
Now, if a certain headcannon comes true which could make narrative sense, it would just make this all the more powerful. You know how Ezran is an empath with animals? Like he can basically talk to them to an extent and can also feel their pain (novelizations), what if Zym is the same, but for humans and elves. This is not entirely baseless either, other than providing cool symmetry it would also explain why Zym is able to communicate telepathically with Ezran to an extent. It's two empaths connecting to each other. If Zym has this power, he could potentially understand what Claudia feels on a deeper level then anyone else because he literally feels it too, and thus would easier be able to empathize with her making point 1 all the more plausible.
And on top of everything... I just feel it would be really sweet. I love Zym, I love Claudia and seeing Zym be a character by performing something so monumental and helping someone who clearly needs help would just be... kinda heartwarming to me if done correctly. That's why it's a crack theory at the end of the day. There's not hard evidence and it relies on some assumptions, but do I want it to happen? Absolutely?
But hey, if you disagree, that's fine too! :)
"But Claudia is pure evil and I want her to burn."
I disagree on that but to each their own, fine If you want that too I guess lmao.
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Quinn is so happy his Auntie Wayne is writing again, because when I cackle reading something and wake him up, he gets reparation treats! This was the first one: “What d’you say, sweetheart? You taking me back?” / “You rolled your eyes at his antics. “Guess I have to. God knows returning you is impossible.”
“While you could see some similarities between the brothers, you took note of one big difference: Russell wasn’t as sarcastic and sharp-tongued. Probably because Russell had always been more concerned with what he should, would, or could share with people in an overthinking loop, while his younger brother seemed obviously free of that burden.” What a great way to describe the difference between the boys!
“Look, you weren’t exactly welcoming during our first meeting,” Russell argued with a bit of bark in his deep voice, although confrontation was probably not the best approach. But why should he always have to take the blame for everything? He’d already done that for more than two decades.” He’s such a good big brother, but damn, he shouldn’t have to keep doing that.
Quinn got a second one (he’s 13ish, but he’s managing to fall asleep in record time) “He’d come along way from the sweet boy you had once teased like a special-forces-trained kindergartner.” for both that and “Aw, aren’t you guys adorable,” you teased. / “Colter wanted to retort something dry-witted, but Russell held up a warning finger. “Ah – wait for it… Trust me. She’s not done.” / “You girls need tissues or a tampon, maybe?” / “Oh, Dory would definitely like her,” Colter repeated his earlier statement with an amused grin.” I cackled!! My kind of woman - and Russell’s, too, obviously.
Quinn got another treat at “This is less becoming a friendly ‘welcome-to-the-neighborhood’ dinner and more starting to look like an orgy to the neighbors. Especially since you’ve put on the robe.” Dude - it was out of the dryer, don’t hate because you’re jealous!
“Wouldn’t do that, baby,” you murmured into his ear with an amused smirk. “That boner’s not gonna go away in five minutes.” Bwahaha!!!
And then, in glorious Wayne fashion, you pull out the emotional sucker punches - broke my heart at “Well, shortly after that, I had a breakdown and I-… I almost hurt her.” He choked on the words, fighting the sting in his eyes… He had convinced himself you’d be better off without him – something he still believed to be true – but he also knew he wasn’t better off without you.” Damn! That whole internal monologue made me want to ply him with whiskey and hugs.
“You know, you’re not crazy like Dad was, Russ. I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’re crazy in your own way, but I wouldn’t worry about the other stuff.” Ooof!! Would love to know what the “or something” was - that’s going to be an emotionally-charged discussion when they finally have it.
And this also packed a punch:”Granted, the confession stung more than Russell would ever be willing to admit. The tiny, naive part inside of him had constructed a hopeless fantasy of his mother having a sudden change of heart over the last two decades and happily welcoming her firstborn back. Apparently, not a thing had changed, though, and he cursed himself for feeling disheartened.” My poor Russell! I want to kick Mommy Dearest in the teeth.
“I think whatever Dad was involved in – or both of ‘em – was just some activist shit. I don’t think the government cares.” Lie. “We both know he had a mental thing. Paranoid, probably schizophrenic… I mean, Mom used to pump him full of meds sometimes when he got too out of hand.” Truth. He then stole a glance at his little brother and saw the confusion shimmering on his face. Russell scoffed. “You didn’t know that, did you?” Yet another reason not to like Mommy Dearest…
And those last two lines…damn! Damn, this is so damn good, Wayne!!! I love this so much!! (Quinn does too!)
The Exit Strategy – Part 4
Summary: Russell is ready to hang it all up and retire, open up a brewery, and enjoy the rest of his civilian life. However, there’s one important thing missing before he can take the big plunge. Luckily, he knows just the right person to help him find it.
Pairing: Russell Shaw x Female!Reader
Warnings: 18+, language, fluff, some angst & feels, family secrets, spy stuff, a bit of spiciness
Word Count: 6.5k
A/N: Welcome back, friends! We're diving a bit into Shaw family secrets this week – fully Wayne's version, though. While I did read the books, there's no major spoilers**, so don't you worry. I just played with an idea here 🤓 I also won't be fully diving into the Shaw family life, but some things are heavily hinted to be... fishy here 👀 Enjoy & let me know what you think! 🤍
**There's a small part where Russell tells Colter about their parents. It's mentioned in the books that their mother was a psychiatrist. I took that and ran with it 🤷♀️
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Part 4: This Is Not an Exit
“You’ve been walking down memory lane a lot tonight,” you teased with a nudge of his ribs, still tightly cuddled in his warm embrace in the freezing basement.
“Haven’t you?”
“No, I have,” you admitted with a melancholic sigh. “Maybe we should stop dwelling on the past so much. Think more about the future…”
Russell scoffed a small chuckle. “Dory said something similar not that long ago. Actually the reason why I came here.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he sighed, his fingers absently drawing circles on your arm. “I think it’s time we retire, sweetheart. I mean, after everything we’ve been through, I think we deserve to, right? You know, sometimes I wake up in the morning, and I’m surprised we’re even still here, considering how many war zones we’ve been in.”
“Well, you know what they say – beware the old soldier because he’s old for a reason,” you said with a smile.
“Yeah, think I might be getting a little too old…” Russell chucked lightly, running a hand through his long hair. “So? What d’you think? One last hurrah, and then we hang this up? I was thinking maybe we could open up a brewery, you know? A family place. Bet the kids would love it.”
“Sounds nice,” you said with a yearning smile. You wanted all of that and more. “I’d love to retire with you.”
“But?”
You laughed slightly at his anticipating look. “But I don’t think you can yet.”
His eyebrows drew together till they met above the bridge of his freckled nose. “What d’you mean? I just told you I’m ready.”
“You say you are, but you aren’t,” you replied like the annoying Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland. “Have you solved the murder yet?”
Russell licked his lips, which was his telltale sign that you caught him there. After all, you knew him better than anyone in this world – knowing when he needed to be pushed and shoved was part of it.
“No, but I don’t need to anymore. Look, the only reason I wanted to solve it was because I thought I had to prove my innocence to Colter. And well, turns out I didn’t. He believed me anyways, so…”
“That wasn’t the only reason,” you reminded him with a scrutinizing look.
“Maybe, but like I said – Dory thinks we should keep all this bullshit in the past, and after the last three years, I’m starting to agree with her,” Russell said, dragging a hand over his face.
“Look, if that’s what you want–”
“It’s what I want,” he assured you and placed a hand on your thigh, gently squeezing it. “Having my little brother and sister back is enough. I don’t need more. Nothing good ever comes from being greedy.”
You nodded in understanding, clearing your throat. “Still, in the name of our deal to always be honest, I kinda have to confess something.”
Rising from your seat, you dusted off your awful, flowery skirt and wandered to the wall safe once more, retrieving a thick folder from it. You took your place next to Russell again, his questioning eyes meeting yours as you handed him your research.
“When you didn’t come back after a year or so, I started looking into it as well. Might have done a full deep-dive,” you admitted with a bite of your lip.
Russell shot you a chiding look, shaking his head, but most of all, he was worried. “I told you to leave it alone. You don’t know what sorta people we’re dealing with here, but we do know they’re dangerous.”
“I know. I just wanted to help. Figured I could speed it along. I do have more access than you,” you countered softly. “I’m sorry, okay? But I was careful. I promise.”
“Good,” he said and looked at you, interlacing your fingers with his. “‘Cause the last thing I want is losing you over this bullshit, too.”
Nodding, you squeezed his hand in reassurance. “There’s something you should know, though.” He raised his brow anew – you’d always been full of surprises. Life certainly had never been boring. “Someone accessed the files after me.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know. Definitely had a higher clearance than me, though,” you replied.
Russell threw his arms up, and you could see he was getting more upset again. “See? This is what I’m talking about! The whole point of us separating was to keep you and the kids away from it. Otherwise, we could’ve just stayed together, and I could’ve joined Horizon anyways.”
“I know that, too,” you said remorsefully. “But don’t worry. I wasn’t followed, and no one ever came after me. I made sure of it. It’s been two years now. They probably figured it was nothing after I didn’t reach out to you straight away.”
“Still… I don’t want you involved, alright?”
“What about Colter? Doesn’t he want to know? He doesn’t strike me as someone who just lets things go,” you noted observantly.
Russell clicked his tongue – a sign of defeat. “He isn’t, but he’s not gonna find anything either. I mean, the only reason I know is because you were so relentless and kept digging.”
“You haven’t told him what we found out?”
Russell licked his lips and admitted quietly, “No. I don’t think it does anyone any good to keep looking into this.”
Leaning forward and hugging your knees, your head bobbed pensively. “I thought you guys talked about what happened?”
“We did. Kinda… It’s complicated,” he stated, swallowing. “Dory was easy, you know? I guess she never really believed it… But it took a while till Colter even picked up the phone, let alone answered a goddamn text message. Had to get a little annoying.”
You smirked. “Well, you’re good at that. That’s how you won me over.”
“By being persistent?”
“Exactly. Like a tardigrade.” You grinned. “I mean, you kind of are doing it now again, too.”
He chuckled quietly. “Yeah, guess so.”
“Is that why you haven’t told him about me and the kids? Because you’re not sure about him yet?”
“Partially, yeah,” he admitted. “I guess I wanted to protect you. And maybe myself a little, too… Not sure I’m ready for those two worlds to meet yet, you know? I mean, you and the kids are the best things that ever happened to me, and when I look at Colter or Dory, I’m sometimes reminded of the worst things in my life.”
“What about your mother?”
Russell let out an exhaustive sigh that was half amused. “Geez, you haven’t changed a bit. You still ask the most uncomfortable questions possible.”
You laughed a little. “Gathering intelligence in uncomfortable ways is kind of my job, Shaw.”
“Yup, and no one’s better at it than you, sweetheart,” Russell quipped.
“So I’m guessing it’s a no on Mommie Dearest?”
Russell licked his lips, shaking his head. “I don’t wanna see her. Mostly because I don’t even know what to fucking say anymore,” he said. “I don’t want her to meet the kids either.”
“It’s okay,” you assured him and took his hand in yours. “It’s your choice, Russ. We go at your pace, alright?”
“Thank you.” Russell brought your intertwined hands to his lips, kissing the back of your hand before he looked at you deeply, a smile dancing across his plump lips. “I love you.”
You mirrored his smile, your heart fluttering like a wild butterfly in your chest. “I love you, too.”
“I’ll tell them – Dory and Colter. I want this to work,” he promised. “Just… after we finish this. I want him to have a clear head. I prefer not to get him killed, you know?”
“I get it. I thought the same thing when I first met you, too,” you joked, patting his chest. “But you brought him into this. It’s kinda on you.”
Russell scratched his bearded chin. “Yeah, but I didn’t exactly know what I’d bring him into.”
“Didn’t you, though?”
Amused, Russell bobbed his head. “Yeah, maybe I did,” he acknowledged. “You know, when Manny called me–”
Your eyes widened. “Manny called you?”
Russell blinked at you, brow creased in confusion. “Yeah, why?”
“That motherfucker…”
Furiously, you stomped to the desk and grabbed the radio. “Drone-5. This is Queen Bee-1. Report to Hive.”
The static of the radio cracked almost instantly, as if the idiot had been waiting all night for this call. “Yo, Queen Bee-1. How’s my boy?” Manny’s laugh echoed through the basement.
Russell’s glowing cheeks reached his eyes when he heard his friend’s voice. He’d known the guy almost as long as Doug.
“You’re the one who fucking told him?!” you yelled into the radio, almost crushing the device in your hand.
“To be fair, I told him not to engage with tango,” Manny sheepishly replied.
“Ha-ha, funny. Fuck you,” you huffed and tossed Russ the walkie-talkie. He caught it with one hand.
His boyish grin widened as he pushed the button. “You know, Drone-5, you could’ve told me you were actually working this thing.”
“Aw, you know I can’t do that. But I guess congrats on crashing another operation. You’re Worker Bee-3 now. Old habits die hard, huh?” Manny chuckled.
“Yeah, I guess…” Russell replied with a lighthearted chuckle, but his teeth tugged pensively at his lips.
“Great to have you back, brother. Hope this works out for you. See you on the other side, man. Oh, and could you move like three feet to the left and turn the washer off? We can barely hear and see you guys, and Drone-2 just ran out to grab popco–”
“No, absolutely not. Out,” you snapped as you grabbed the radio from Russ. He laughed as you put it furiously back on the desk. You knew what you had signed up for, but you still deserved some privacy. Annoyed, you took off your cross necklace – another bug – and settled down beside him again.
“What did he say when he called you?”
“Nothing much, really. Just told me your coordinates and that you like to pick up your mail at three o’clock at the local post office,” Russell replied.
You shook your head, smiling. “Well, he always loved you, so…” You started to chew on your lower lip, the anxiety in your belly returning. For the sake of your mind and heart, you had to make sure Russell was fully back, and this wasn’t just a fluke. “You know, I worry sometimes that if you don’t face this thing with your family, you’ll always feel this way. I mean, after Lewis was born–”
“I know.” Russell nodded, swallowing thickly. He saw the worry shimmering in your eyes, and it cracked his heart a little. “I know I kinda lost it there. Took me by surprise, too. Trust me. Figured I had dealt with all that shit already, you know? But I guess seeing you with him and feeling all that love myself, I just-… I don’t know. I don’t know how she could do it… Ashton was one thing, but she just stood by. And I don’t even know what the hell she was up to while he took us out into those woods…” He shook his head as if to rattle the answer out of his brain. “And then when we found out you were pregnant again… I mean, I’d barely held it together with Lewis. Everything just became a blur. I couldn’t think straight anymore, and I worried all the time I’d be like them…”
“I tried to help,” you said softly.
“I know you did. Guess this was just something I had to figure out on my own,” he replied with a beat shrug.
“How’s your vision now? Still blurry?”
“Clearer than ever.” A smile flickered alive on his lips, green eyes boring into yours as he leaned in and kissed you slowly like he meant every word. Blowing a raspberry, he then turned his attention to the file in his lap. “So, what am I gonna find in there?”
“Honestly, nothing we haven’t already puzzled together,” you replied, teeth gnawing on your bottom lip. “But I found a couple of names associated with your parents. Thought maybe you could look at them and see if you recognize the person you saw in the woods.”
“I already know where this is going…”
“Russ, please, just–”
Russell interrupted you, placing a soothing palm on your thigh that curbed your enthusiasm. “I’ll think about it, alright?”
Satisfied, you raised two placating hands. “All I was asking…”
“How was the lasagna?”
After four hours in the basement, you and Russell quietly treaded up the stairs a few minutes after midnight, finding Colter in the kitchen, eating leftovers out of the ceramic form in the warm glow of the stove light. Tom, on the other hand, had passed out on the couch, only the blue flickers of the TV and the soft noises of a peaceful nature documentary filling the silence of the dark living room.
“Excellent,” Colter stated, swallowing down a mouthful of lasagna before speaking. “I told Tom he should be a chef in a restaurant or something.”
Russell’s brow knitted in doubt. “Really? Lemme try.”
“You just ate two entire bags of junk. You can’t still be hungry,” you argued with a giggle, shaking your head.
“It’s lasagna,” Russell said simply, grabbed a fork from the drawer, and dove right in.
That man would eat anything. You’d seen him do it, too. He didn’t even go hungry when he was lost in a desert.
“Wow, that is good,” Russell announced his judgement with a full mouth. “Maybe we should hire Tom for the brewery, huh?”
“I’m guessing this means you two talked?” Colter asked with a carefully arched brow.
“Hmm. I don’t know,” Russell mused in jest. “What d’you say, sweetheart? You taking me back?”
You rolled your eyes at his antics. “Guess I have to. God knows returning you is impossible.”
Russell laughed and slung an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. He kissed your temple.
But then you noticed Colter’s smile falter, his brows creasing in question. “Is your hair different?”
“Shit!”
Wide-eyed, you bolted back down the creaking stairs to the basement, hearing Russell’s laughter fill the kitchen.
“Was she wearing a wig? And her eyes too, right?” Puzzled, Colter tried to piece it all together. He had already figured by your extensive vocabulary of swear words that you might be a better match for his older brother than he had initially surmised.
“Yup, all fake, man,” Russell confirmed and smirked. “Still think she’s not my type yet?”
“No, I can see it now,” Colter admitted, chuckling. “So, you guys are good?”
“Yeah, I think so.” Russell nodded and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket, swallowing.
Colter’s smile widened, filling the older Shaw’s stomach with more guilt. “That’s great. Happy for you, man. Guess that means you’re retiring now, huh?”
Russell scratched the back of his neck. “Uh, we’ll see. Always depends on what the wife decides, you know?”
Yup, he sprinkled that important bit of information into a joke. Then, he watched his little brother take a stumped step back, brow furrowing and unfurrowing and then furrowing again.
“Wha-, wife?”
Russell produced a popping sound with his lips like the noise of a bottle when the cork was pulled. Welp, this bottle was surely open now.
“Yup, got married in Thailand in 2011,” he added another helpful tidbit of information, but Colter’s jaw dislodged all the same.
“Alright, got this all figured out,” you said, sauntering back into the kitchen with a pastel pink towel wrapped around your head and a matching bathrobe. You’d just grabbed them from the dryer, the fluffy material still cozily warm. It was the best option, considering you didn’t want to mess around with your wig as well after popping the lenses back in had already cost you most of your patience. In your little bubble of bliss, you hadn’t instantly noticed the brothers staring at you. But once you did, your brows morphed into a frown. “What’s going on?”
“You two are married?” Colter asked, a pointed finger flicking from Russell to you.
You threw your arms up, looking at your husband. “I was gone for five minutes! What happened to telling him after the operation?”
Russell offered you a sheepish shrug. “Well, this old soldier’s getting weak too, apparently.”
“He said it like a joke…” Colter mumbled, still in the middle of processing this new revelation. His older, estranged-but-now-less-strange brother had a wife. A family. Friends. And he knew none of it. What else was there? Kids?
“Yeah, he does that...” You shot your husband a scolding sideways look. “Should I leave you two alone for this?” you then offered, hoping the answer was a goddamn yes.
“Why would you? You’re family, right?” Colter retorted with a dry smile and a sharp look.
You pursed your lips. While you could see some similarities between the brothers, you took note of one big difference: Russell wasn’t as sarcastic and sharp-tongued. Probably because Russell had always been more concerned with what he should, would, or could share with people in an overthinking loop, while his younger brother seemed obviously free of that burden.
“Don’t take it out on her,” Russell stepped in gently, which really was a warning. “She didn’t know about any of this. Kinda pushed her into it.”
“Seems to be your style,” Colter scoffed.
“Can’t work for the CIA without going through a baptism of fire, little brother,” Russell said simply, giving an unapologetic shrug of his shoulders.
“Why would you not tell me?” Colter stared at him, his look a mix of reproach and agitation.
“Look, you weren’t exactly welcoming during our first meeting,” Russell argued with a bit of bark in his deep voice, although confrontation was probably not the best approach. But why should he always have to take the blame for everything? He’d already done that for more than two decades.
“That was months ago,” Colter countered, scowling. “I’d like to think I’ve come around since then… Coulda told me after we saved Doug.”
Russell let out a small sigh of defeat, rolling his eyes back slightly. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “No, yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry, man, alright?” he apologized earnestly.
With a questioning brow, you carefully nudged your husband’s arm. “What happened to Doug? Is he alright?”
“Yeah, uh, he went to work for Horizon with me. I’ll tell you later, okay?” Russell replied, his voice a lot quieter as if sharing a secret, and if Horizon was involved he probably was.
“Is Tracy okay?”
“She’s fine. Little shook up. You should probably give her a call. Smooth things out,” Russell told you.
Tracy thought you worked in marketing at some company for the government. Whenever you, Russell, and Doug were stuck on a mission, the boys made you call her to “smooth things out” – aka reassuring her everything was certainly fine with her husband and he wasn't in any danger at all. They’d once made you call her from a Black Hawk. The noise had been fun to explain away – you’d told her you were picking up a client from a helicopter pad.
Colter chewed on the insides of his cheeks. “So she knows Doug, too?”
Russell nodded. “Yeah, me and Doug were mostly Delta, but SAD liked to borrow us from time to time. We ran in her team for quite a while. She was actually the one who recruited me.”
At his little wink your way, you smiled. He’d come along way from the sweet boy you had once teased like a special-forces-trained kindergartner.
“Listen, things were obviously a little complicated between me and her the last few years,” Russell (under)stated. “But I’ve brought you here for a reason, okay? Figured it’s time you meet your sister-in-law.”
Eyes drifting from you to Russell, Colter pursed his lips – a tell he shared with his brother.
“Are you mad? I can’t tell.” Frowning, Russell tilted his head.
“No,” you absentmindedly replied for Colter, who gave you a curious look but steered his attention back to Russell.
“No,” the younger Shaw repeated your assumption. “I mean, not more than I was before, you know?”
Russell’s creases only deepened. “No, I don’t know.”
“He means he’s indifferent about knowing or not knowing we’re married because he’s already pissed about not knowing about my existence in general,” you explained.
“Ah. Your nerd is showing, sweetheart,” Russell teased you with a smile that made your heart melt.
“Dory would like her,” Colter commented like the thought had just popped into his head – something else he didn’t share with his brother.
You’d always wondered about the youngest Shaw of the three. Russell could never tell you much about Dory. His memory had been one of a smart and feisty nine-year-old, not a young woman and physics professor.
Thumbing at you, Russell cocked a brow at his brother. “Is she right, though?”
“Spot on, actually.” Colter’s tongue poked his cheek, his gaze flickering with a hint of astonishment and new-found respect for you. “And I guess I’m not really mad either way. Just… surprising, you know? I should’ve asked. That’s on me.”
Russell seemed more than a little baffled to hear this, considering he had to pause to find an appropriate response. “No, uh, we’re good. I could’ve just told you, anyways.”
“Yeah, no, that’s alright.” Colter swallowed, sending his older brother a smile of forgiveness. “Honestly, I was glad to hear you weren’t alone all this time, so…”
Russell’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he pushed down the lump in his throat. With a nod, he averted his green eyes to the kitchen floor. “Thanks, man. Appreciate it.”
“Aw, aren’t you guys adorable,” you teased.
Colter wanted to retort something dry-witted, but Russell held up a warning finger. “Ah – wait for it… Trust me. She’s not done.”
“You girls need tissues or a tampon, maybe?”
“Oh, Dory would definitely like her,” Colter repeated his earlier statement with an amused grin.
Russell, on the other hand, shot you a pointed look, but that had barely ever stopped you before. “Okay, you can lay down. You don’t have to give him the initiation. No hazing my little brother,” he ordered you sternly, and you stifled a snort. “And no one better kidnaps him tonight and puts a bag over his head, alright? I don’t wanna pick him up beaten and bloody from some warehouse tomorrow morning.”
“Hm, what?” Colter’s brow furrowed. For the first time, you could see slight panic spread in his pupils.
Who was hazing who now?
You rolled your eyes in feigned annoyance. “Fine, we’ll leave him alone,” you acted your capitulation.
The younger Shaw blinked at you. “Thank you?”
“Should we at least tell him about the other thing while we’re at it?” you asked Russell with a suggestive look.
Thoughtfully, he paused for a beat, then clicked his tongue. “No, I got it from here. It’s getting late. We’ve been here long enough,” he decided. “This is less becoming a friendly ‘welcome-to -the-neighborhood’ dinner and more starting to look like an orgy to the neighbors. Especially since you’ve put on the robe.”
“It just came from the dryer. Look, it’s so soft and warm,” you argued, pouting, your palms caressing the fluffy material on your arms.
“Uh-huh.”
The little bob of his Adam’s apple made you grin slyly. The way his jaw ticked and his pupils widened with a primal hunger, you could tell he wanted to tear that robe right off of you. The thought caused a shudder to run down your spine.
“What, uh, other thing do you have to tell me?” Colter asked and smiled expectantly, tapping his fingers on the the counter.
Russell, however, grabbed his arm and dragged his curious little brother toward the exit. “I’ll tell you in the car,” he said and thumbed to the front door behind his shoulder. “Wait outside. Gimme five minutes, alright?”
Wordlessly, Colter nodded without argument, gave you a quick goodbye-wave of his hand, and strolled leisurely back to his car as if he knew exactly what his older brother intended to do.
As expected, Russell impatiently conquered your lips, roughly pressing you against the foyer’s wall, your arms draping around his neck.
“What’s the bedroom situation in this place?” he asked between kisses.
“First floor, west side, third window from the right. I’ll leave it unlatched,” you replied, smiling against his lips. “Tom’s always sleeping on the couch. Part of our cover is going to marriage counseling with Pastor Jeff, which happens to work out great for us.”
You exhaled a shuddered breath when one of his hands wandered past the robe and splayed warm against your ribcage, just underneath your breast. His thumb fought an itch to get closer.
“Wouldn’t do that, baby,” you murmured into his ear with an amused smirk. “That boner’s not gonna go away in five minutes.”
“Mmm, I know,” he groaned and dropped his head between your boobs, lips pressing a chaste kiss to your collarbone. If he continued on with this, your arousal would surely streak down your bare thighs soon. Luckily, he had mercy on the both of you. “I’ll talk to him and then come back, okay?”
You nodded with a smile. He kissed your lips, then your forehead, and then disappeared through the door with the same cometary velocity he had entered your vision.
And all you could do was hope you’d see him one more time in your life.
“So?”
4.3 seconds after Colter killed the engine of his pickup in a spot a block away to the west side of your house – as per Russell’s very specific instruction – he stared scrutinizingly at his older brother.
Impatience was also a family trait – one even their father had despised.
“Look, uhm, there’s no easy way to break the news…”
“Is this about you having two kids?”
When Russell’s eyes met Colter’s, he didn’t recognize any anger, hurt or resentment in them – just pure slyness. At least that was good news. His little brother was just going to be annoying about this whole thing.
“Yeah, remember those five minutes you left me alone in the car? I called Bobby. Had him check some things out for me. Wasn’t easy to find. I’ll give you that…”
As expected, Colter was going to be a smartass about it. He figured it out on his own. He won the game.
“Hmm.” Russell pursed his lips, nodding. “You do know the CIA is on your guy’s ass now, right? Shouldn’t have done it in their perimeter, man. Manny’s probably all over this by now…”
Then his brow knit as if the thought of his old friend had provoked an idea, his head tilting with narrowed eyes at the air vents on the dashboard. How long had that car been parked outside and out of sight again?
Like a game of Operation, Russell then used thumb and pointer finger as his tweezers to retrieve a tiny bug – the spy kind.
“Gotcha,” Russell muttered, smirking. He then held the bug close to the speakers of the radio before turning up the volume to its highest setting – only for a second. He switched the radio off, rolled down the window, and threw the unwanted listening device onto the pavement. “That should teach ‘em a lesson…”
Colter cocked an incredulous brow at his brother. “They bugged my car?”
“Oh, trust me, they bug anything they can get their greedy little hands on,” Russell retorted. “Would probably check for a tracker underneath, too.”
“Great, thanks,” Colter huffed wryly.
“Hey, you wanted in. That’s what they do,” Russell reminded him, shrugging, but there was a smile of amusement on his lips.
Colter only bobbed his head. “So, you and her? You guys are good now? Just like that? Seemed… easy. Sorta…”
Russell chuckled lightly, brushing a hand through his beard. He knew his relationship with you was unconventional, but it had always worked for you and him.
“Me and Y/N have a deal, you know? It’s not all black and white. I mean, we became aware a long time ago that the two of us operate in a lot of gray zones. But, uh, we always know we can rely on each other, you know? Doesn’t matter if we’ve been separated by time or space,” Russell explained to the best of his abilities.
“So what happened?” Colter prompted with the same amount of confusion. “Why did you guys split up? I saw on the birth certificate your daughter was only two years old. I mean, did you-… did you even know?”
Russell inhaled deeply, nodding. “I knew she was pregnant. When she told me back then, I-…” He paused, licking his lips. It wasn’t something he had ever talked about with anyone before – not even you. “Well, shortly after that, I had a breakdown and I-… I almost hurt her.” He choked on the words, fighting the sting in his eyes.
He’d tried so hard to forget, wasn’t even sure he had ever really apologized for it to you because he so badly didn’t want it to exist that he’d tried to wish it out of literal existence, and hence, never really blamed you for leaving like you did. He understood. In fact, he had even wished you’d leave. He had convinced himself you’d be better off without him – something he still believed to be true – but he also knew he wasn’t better off without you.
He’d been lost and alone. And maybe, he was being selfish by crashing back into your life now. Or Dory’s. And Colter’s.
“I mean, nothing ever really bad happened. It’s just-… That night I came scarily close,” Russell confessed, swallowing thickly. He still hated himself for that night and everything that followed. “It’s like a switch flipped, you know? I couldn’t do anything against it… And Lewis saw parts of it, and I was already impatient with him and short with her the weeks before, so I just left that night and disappeared for two months. Volunteered for some mission. Figured it was best for everybody.”
It’s better off if he never comes back…
Russell licked his chapped lips. The next part was the hardest.
“When I got back, she told me she got a job offer in another country, and that she would be taking it and taking Lewis with her. She wanted me to use the time to… I don’t know… solve this, I guess.” He let out a humorless scoff at the painful memory.
Russell hadn’t seen it at first, maybe because he hadn’t wanted to, his anger and pain blurring the truth. After his son had been born, Russell knew you could see him struggling, so you started digging deeper into his family and what really happened. And when you’d found something – Horizon – you’d told him you could infiltrate. Naturally, Russell had passed a hard no – it had been a five-hour long fight, but he'd emerged victoriously by the end. So, you’d told him he should do it, but he didn’t want to leave you, and he didn’t want to endanger and jeopardize his family.
He’d told he was fine, but he wasn’t. It kept gnawing on him – and gnawing and gnawing and gnawing… till you eventually pulled the plug and ended his suffering.
“I was exhausted, so I told her we’d talk about it in the morning. When I woke up, they were gone. Didn’t even notice she’d already packed.”
Colter was silent for a beat. “Was it PTSD or something?”
“Or somethin’,” replied Russell.
“But you’re good now?” Colter checked with a warily raised brow.
“Guess so…”
Truthfully, Russell didn’t know if he was or wasn’t. He’d tried hard to figure out what it was exactly that had set him off that night and fix it, but he didn’t know if that feeling would ever disappear for good. He just knew he had never felt that way again since then. But could he guarantee it would never come back?
He didn’t know.
“Look, all I know is, seeing you and Dory again helped, so…” Russell twitched his shoulders and sighed. He didn’t know what else to say, how to explain it better, but Colter seemed to understand anyway, reading between the lines.
Russell worried he’d be like their father.
“I think I get it.” The younger Shaw nodded and licked his lips. “You know, you’re not crazy like Dad was, Russ. I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’re crazy in your own way, but I wouldn’t worry about the other stuff.”
“Well, thanks,” Russell said, not convinced but appreciative of the vote of confidence. “Makes at least one of us…”
“I-, uh, I noticed their names,” Colter then said and clarified, “Lewis and Amelia. Like explorers. Like us.”
“Ah.” Russell smacked his lips and brushed it off, “Wasn’t really my idea. I told Y/N that story once. Guess she took a liking to it..”
“Are you, you know, gonna tell Mom?”
Russell was almost surprised by the question. The brothers had barely talked about their mother since they’d reconnected. Considering Colter had never brought her up again after their first meeting, Russell figured there was a reason for that – and he thought he probably knew the reason, too.
Russell scoffed a chuckle and looked at his little brother with an almost incredulous look. “I think you can guess the answer to that one,” he replied and figured it said enough. “Did you tell her I came back?”
Colter pursed his lips, and Russell took it as a sign of admission. So his mother knew. Great…
“Sorta,” Colter admitted hesitantly.
“What d’she say?” Russell almost smiled out of amusement. He already knew the answer, but his brother still seemed reluctant. “C’mon, you can tell me. I’m not gonna be butthurt after twenty years…”
“She told me to ignore you,” Colter finally confessed, but the words left a bitter taste in his mouth. They had ever since his mother said them, but even more so now that he knew his brother – and parts of the truth.
“Hmm,” Russell hummed with tight lips and ground his jaw.
Granted, the confession stung more than Russell would ever be willing to admit. The tiny, naive part inside of him had constructed a hopeless fantasy of his mother having a sudden change of heart over the last two decades and happily welcoming her firstborn back. Apparently, not a thing had changed, though, and he cursed himself for feeling disheartened.
“But I actually haven’t talked to her in a while now,” Colter added with a small shrug, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.
“Huh, really?”
“Yeah, uh, and when I did, I didn’t exactly tell her I didn’t take her advice, you know? So…”
“Why not?” Russell’s brow furrowed a little more as he analyzed each word, simultaneously realizing why he had been so reluctant to share his life with Colter before – his subconscious had been afraid his alienated little brother would report back to the mothership.
Colter’s lips pursed. “Because I disagree.”
“Ah.”
Colter chewed on his lower lip. “Look, I know you and Dory wanna keep all of this in the past and play family – and trust me, I want that too,” he assured, but his heart was beating fast in his chest. “But I need to know, man. I need to know why she lied about this for twenty years and, you know, did all of this,” he insisted, and yet, Russell could tell he wasn’t done. He might have broken the dam. “She did it to you. I mean, aren’t you mad?”
“Of course I’m mad,” the older Shaw admitted, but there was no fire behind his words.
“Then why are you so calm?”
Amused, Russell chuckled, shrugging. “Probably ‘cause I’ve been dealing with this a lot longer than you, little brother.”
“So, what are we gonna do now?”
“We ain’t gonna do anything,” Russell clarified, his voice stern. He’d die to protect his family, you and the kids, and do anything in his power to keep you out of it, but Colter was a grown-up – a free agent. If he didn’t want to listen, Russell couldn’t force him. “Look, you wanna find out, you go find out. And if you do find something and need help, you call. But I can’t be involved in this,” he explained, his firm expression morphing into something more vulnerable and sincere. “And frankly, I don’t care that much. You, me, Dory, Y/N, the kids – that’s all that matters, trust me. You’re not gonna feel better or more… whole after finding those answers.”
“How do you know? Do you know what really happened?” Colter instantly asked, and Russell knew in that moment, it’d be hopeless. His brother wouldn’t stop till he found it – forever restless.
“No, I told you. I don’t,” Russell repeated, and while he didn’t know everything, he omitted that he knew something.
“What about Y/N?”
Russell froze at the bare mention of your name, his protective instincts kicking in. “Leave her out of this,” he all but snarled.
But Colter didn’t think about stopping. “Did you ever ask her? I mean, she’s CIA. She could probably find out something, right?”
“Yeah, I asked her once, alright? Was a long time ago,” Russell admitted, sighing. The intended lie would stick better if there was some truth to it – you had taught him that.
“C’mon, Russ… And?” Colter impatiently threw his arms up, brow raising higher and higher as he waited for an answer.
“She never found anything,” Russell said with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders.
This time, it wasn’t just an omission. It was a blatant lie.
“I think whatever Dad was involved in – or both of ‘em – was just some activist shit. I don’t think the government cares.” Lie. “We both know he had a mental thing. Paranoid, probably schizophrenic… I mean, Mom used to pump him full of meds sometimes when he got too out of hand.” Truth. He then stole a glance at his little brother and saw the confusion shimmering on his face. Russell scoffed. “You didn’t know that, did you?”
Quietly, Colter shook his head.
“Well, you were a kid,” Russell said and hoped it would curb the blow slightly, although he knew better than that. “He always took something as far back as I can remember. She used to prepare his pills every evening after you and Dory went to bed. But when we moved to the cabin, he started refusing to take them. Said they made him ‘not clear-headed enough.’ Kinda ironic,” he shared and snorted. “When it got too bad, though, she’d still crush ‘em into his food.”
Colter took everything in with a nod but didn’t say anything more.
“You good over there?” Russell checked after a full minute had passed.
“Yeah,” Colter said and even tried to form a reassuring smile before the attempt failed. Instead, he swallowed. “Just a lot, you know? I didn’t know. I mean, I had some idea, but not-… not that.”
“Yeah, I figured,” Russell said, his voice almost a whisper in the silence of the night. “Like I said, you were a kid…”
When Russell finally left the car to sneak back to you, his shoulders felt a little lighter and his heart a little calmer. He might just float through that unlatched window tonight.
The bad news was, though, he might not be able to retire just yet.
Part 5: This Is a Start – FEBRUARY 7
Honestly, I should've called this chapter "Heart-to-Heart Part II" 😂 I'll see you for the finale next week, but as you know, it's not the end for them – only just the beginning 😉
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atwow hot take:
if jake had said his "son for a son" shit out loud and spider had heard him, he would have been so beyond pissed, he would be seeing red.
spider loved his little siblings so much, neteyam included, even after they grew apart. he loved them like they were his own blood and protected them like they were too (we see a lot more of them together in the comics, where spider is the big brother without a doubt). neteyam's death most certainly rocked him hard, even if he hasn't really been able to show it (how could he? he's already going through all the shit with his dad and the RDA and their nonsense, he can't grieve around neytiri, he's just so tired after it all. he doesn't have the room or the energy to grieve yet)
so if jake had the audacity to say that to/around spider not even a few hours after he watched his little brother get shot after coming to save him, after he stared at the bullet hole in his back, after he watched him take his last breaths, after he watched the light leave his eyes, after he watched his little brother die for him; if he said that while his little brother's body lay in a pool of his own blood not even ten feet away, not even cold yet, blood still clinging to his chest, the scent of it still filling the air: he would have lost his shit.
because the disrespect for his brother is wild.
jake was an active player in spider's neglect and abuse for the last 16 years, he let it happen, he helped it happen. he tried to send spider with the humans, tried to take him away from his siblings, from the forests, from eywa to live with his foster family that didn't love him (not to mention Nash was an asswipe of epic proportions) and the RDA of all people. he had referred to spider as a stray animal since he was little. he was the reason spiders life was hell.
and after all that, years and years of putting him in shit positions and allowing him to suffer the fate of being forever unloved and uncared for (by an adult authority figure, cause I love the kids, but they don't make up for the gap left by a parent), this is what it took for jake to care about him? his little brother had to die in front of him first? he had to be traded out to fill the space of a corpse, to fill in the gap left by his little brother's death?
in canon, spider was in deep in shock with nothing to break him from it, he wasn't in the place to really think about any of it, and I'm sure we're gonna see this anger in the coming movies, but if jake had said it out loud, that would have been enough to snap spider right out of it, and he would have given jake a piece of his mind, I just know it.
#he loves neteyam too much to let jake do that. to say that. he'd never allow it.#spider is such a good big brother. he loves his siblings too much.#if jake had said that to his face there would have been hell to pay. regardless of how out of it spider was with shock/grief/pure exhaustio#spider doesn't even care about the disrespect being done to him by that statement. he just cares about neteyam.#cause how could a father say that? how could he just move on. fill the gap with a “stray” as he puts it. take him in after all he'd done to#him? it wasn't fair#it wasn't fair to him and it most certainly wasn't fair to neteyam#I love spider. he deserves a family that loves him and wants him. he wants it. but this is not what either of us asked for.#that line has always rubbed me wrong. and it would have rubbed spi wrong too. I just know it.#I really hope we see spider express his rightful anger/disgust to this whole thing next movie#though I worry he will be too busy feeling guilty over everything and feeling like he just has to be grateful. but one can hope.#he deserves to be angry#and his dynamic with neteyam deserves to be explored. cause its a crime that it was ignored in the movie.#avatar 2#avatar the way of water#spider socorro#miles spider socorro#miles socorro#neteyam#neteyam sully#neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan#jake sully#I wanna punch that man so hard istg. I can't with him. I won't say I hate him. but lord have mercy I can't with him.#my baby boys deserved better#spider was neteyam's big brother. that's my agenda#we need to talk about them more
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help I just remembered Taliesin asked if Mollymauk would have set off Caduceus' Detect Undead--that he always thought Molly would, and was genuinely surprised when Matt told him no....
Taliesin Axelrod Jaffe were you ever going to share that you thought Mollymauk Tealeaf had been undead this whole time--
#agoNY!!#the pain this causes me#thank you matthew for not letting molly be undead. i dont know why but. its somehow a comfort to me#especially since lucien was trained as a ghostslayer--a bloodhunter built to fight undead specifically--#after everything that was done to his brother. I feel like that would have just torn Lucien up inside#and maybe Molly wouldn't have cared as much#but it hurts my heart to think he might--
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Greg in every episode of CSI (139/328) • Post-Mortem •
#csi#greg sanders#catherine willows#sara sidle#gil grissom#nick stokes#warrick brown#there he is! my favourite white boy!#own post#mine: every episode#I have so many thoughts feelings and opinions on this episode#starting with it bugs me when nick and warrick are talking and warrick says “did it never occur to greg to just reverse and get out...#... of the alley?“ as if him or nick wouldnt have done the EXACT same thing? no way would they have just sat there and watched that gang...#... beat up some innocent guy? no way.#other thing that bothers me in that last scene where the brother is in the car WHY IS GREG JUST STANDING THERE FKN MOVE MAN OMGG#and everything else is just sad :(( the scene with Greg and Sofia is just heartbreaking “I just want to be able to sleep again”...#like please stab me that would be less painful I swear#and when Grissom tells him he did a good job his sigh of relief like god man it hurts#i take back what I said about showing him in a “dark place” like he says in the reboot I dont think I'd watch s7 if they had done that...#... it still would have been good though#oh AND the scene where the judge asks him about the wine.... theres something about the way Greg answers idk is kinda hot?? just the way...#... he shuts everyone down like “Alcohol wasnt a factor bc how much I had and the rate the wine would burn off I had nothing in me after...#... an hour and a half let alone when I ran the guy over 😎👉#Greg Sanders making science sexy since 2006 😌
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like i think the insane thing about the episode is how it continued to push the collector-luz, luz-philip and philip-collector parallels throughout it to then just hand wave it, like why do ALL THAT and then just drop it? like why put so much focus on it and then just, nothing?
#also kinda turning hunter into fanon caleb two point O is. yikes to say the least.#like they had so much time to course correct and put focus on what’s actually important and just didn’t.#like if they wanted to kill Philip of in an unsatisfying way they could have just let him die at the end of kings tide and concentrate on#the collector or just cut the collector and keep focus on Philip if he was anyways gonna be the final boss.#they could have done hollow mind part two either with the collector in the beginning or when luz died she could have manifested in Philips#mind as she was passing on (<- i guess(like is the inbetween purgatory or what is it?))#make her go through his memories let her restore some of them. let Philip deal with the guilt you set up in kings tide. HELL LET GUS DO SOME#THING HE LITERALLY KNOWS FOR MONTHS THAT HE FEELS ACTUAL GUILT ABOUT THIS. LIKE DO ANYTHING PLEASE.#hell let the collector turn Philip into a puppet. trap him into one of those mirrors. like let the collector work together with king and eda#to trap Philip as luz is weakening him as she treads through his mind both in his stead and as an observer of it all#like what the collector did to Luz. Eda and King in the beginning episode is what the Caleb delusion did to Philip in ftf.#like what was the point of setting up Gravesfieled as a horrid cesspool that hasn’t changed. that literally forces outsiders to conform or#they’ll make their lives a nightmare to then just do nothing with that. like do somethin give us payoff for what is in the TEXT OF YOUR SHOW#like why make EVERYTHING HAPPEN BECAUSE OF CALEB ABANDONING HIS BROTHER AND BECAUSE OF GRAVESFIELD BEING LIKE THAT IF YOU ARE SIMPLY GONNA#DO ABSOLUTELY NOTHING WITH IT? especially after knowing that you would have to wrap up everything sooner why not course correct sooner then#the literal finishing stretch of your show. why hand wave it after setting it up? why not just cut it then (<- which still would have sucked#ass but at least it would have given them time they needed to write a more satisfying ending)#ramblings#toh spoilers#watching and dreaming spoilers#toh critical#<- i guess
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~ ~ ~
#I love my bestie and trust that he’s telling me the truth about a family emergency being the reason he’s cancelling our concert plans#but he flakes on me every single time we make plans together to do anything so it’s hard to be as understanding when there’s a pattern here#and after all the shit he’s told me his brother has done to him why are you still helping him?? I can’t relate to this whole idea of do#anything for family even if your family is trash and would never do the same for you#probably because I have family who is trash and would never do anything for me and I cut them off real quick when I was able#I do not believe in letting people stick around who do nothing but use you and hurt you#so I want to be sympathetic and understanding but couldn’t be me and can’t relate so I’m struggling#plus the constant flaking on me makes me less compassionate as well#I bought these concert tickets months in advance and he was supposed to pay for the hotel room for us to stay out after the show#and yeah he’ll pay me back which is nice but doesn’t really change the fact that I’m currently out that money and everything else#and if my partner or stepdad can’t come with me last minute like this then I’ll have to just sell the tickets back to Ticketmaster#because I really don’t want to go by myself since it’s my first concert and I’d feel awkward and uncomfortable being alone there#was already having trouble sleeping and now I got this fucking nonsense to deal with#guess it’s my own fault for making plans with someone I know never keeps them#personal
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angelic alteration
om brothers x reader
wc : 1.k
warnings: nsfw, corruption kink based
synopsis : when Solomon and Diavolo can't fix the problem, it's up to Mc
a/n : thought the angel event (og) could use some more spice so I poured my entire spice rack on it
“Mc…I’m afraid we have bad news.”
You sighed into the receiver, “Yeah? You guys can’t reverse the magic, can you?”
“Nope!” Solomon chirped cheerfully, “Diavolo and Michael’s magic mixed together too strongly for us to reverse ourselves. You’ll just have to wait for them to go back to normal, or…”
“Or…what?”
“Well, this is just a theory, but what if you just corrupted the angelic magic and forced their demonic sides back out?”
“Corrupted, huh..? I like the sound of that.”
†
“I can feel the magic trying to stop me…how. stupidly. annoying.” Lucifer accentuated each word of his complaint with a sharp thrust, face pinched in concentration as sweat beaded at his temple.
He’d be damned if something as trivial as a hexed bracelet from the celestial realm kept him from indulging in you, the one temptation he would never dare ignore.
Your nails dug crescent moons into his shoulders, thighs squeezing at his hips tightly as you moaned and panted beneath him. “Lu-ci-fer! S-slow d-own!”
He growled and sped up in response, snapping his hips into you harshly, “How dare they try to turn me back? I am the Avatar. Of. Pride!” Once again, each word was accentuated with a thrust, making his cock hit deeper and deeper each time.
And he was so fucking proud each time he had you a moaning mess underneath him, crying out his name, begging him not to stop— you made his sin flood his entire body every time.
An electric charge cracked through the air for a brief second before the bangle broke in half, magic forcibly shattering under Lucifer’s sheer prowess.
He grinned sharply, capturing your legs against your chest in a mating press as he went even harder. His wings shedded to black, spanning out proudly behind him as the halo melted down into his horns.
“I’m going to ruin you, do you hear me? You’re not leaving this bed- not tonight, or in the morning, or maybe even until tomorrow afternoon…I’m keeping you until I’ve had my fill.”
†
The sight of Mammon’s blue eyes peering up while his mouth was busy pleasuring you had always been a pretty sight— the shimmering halo was only a little bonus this time.
But you wanted his horns to hold onto. “Just like that, Mams…doing so well, pretty boy.” Your hips rocked over his mouth, grinning down at him with gold flickering in your eyes.
He was all about giving now that the bangle had taken hold, which even before, Mammon always keened when you sat on his face and just used him.
The second born was moaning and whining and whimpering against your skin as his tongue lapped up everything he could, “Mmph- like this? ‘M I doing good, Mc?”
“Y-yeah, baby, fuck— so good…” you carded your fingers through Mammon’s hair, feeling him get more and more excited before you lifted up off his face.
And he was absolutely distraught with the lack of your taste, desperate cry leaving him as he tried to chase after you. “No, no, no! Mc, please, come back— wasn’t done, wanna taste you still, wanna make you feel good, please!”
The laugh you let out made him whine even louder, fingers gripping frantically at your thighs. It was like a switch flipped, magic being overtaken by his greed.
His eyes flickered gold like yours, a whiny growl escaping him. He forced you on your back within a second, mouth working at you even more desperately now as he held you down and took what he wanted— and he wanted to make you cum.
“Jus’ let me, please let me make you cum— you taste so good, Mc, I don’t wanna stop. Want you to scream my name and yank my hair, grip my horns, just give me more- more, more, more!”
†
A small shriek left Levi when you rammed against his prostate, hiccuped cries of your name following. His back arched, wings flaring out behind him, making you hit even deeper spots inside of him.
With his new attitude, he’d been letting everyone else spend time with you and he was finally feeling the built up envy creep along his spine, right beside the spikes of pleasure.
“Aww…look at you. So sweet for me, huh? Why so shy, Levi? Wasn’t this what you meant about strengthening connections?”
Garbled sounds left him, courtesy of your fingers stuffed in his mouth. His eyes rolled back, hands gripping at your hips desperately, though it wasn’t clear if he was pushing you away or pulling you closer.
“How am I gonna know I’m doing good if you don’t tell me, ‘vi? C’mon, sweet thing, tell me. Or do you not want me?”
It was like you asked the unthinkable. A loud whine left him and his tail returned, knocking the halo right off his head before it coiled around your abdomen.
“No! I want you, I want you so badly, please keep fucking me— don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop!” Diamond shaped scales scattered across his body as the magic wore out.
You cooed, thrusting into him sharply, making his body lurch, “Good boy, Leviathan..”
†
“Fuck!” Satan cries out, fingers digging into his white wings to try and keep them from fluttering. His back arched almost painfully, loudly begging you to keep going.
“Oh, look at you…” the coos that left you made him flush red, giving you a great sense of satisfaction. This was the most he’d been riled up since putting that ridiculous bangle on.
Your thighs were burning at the unforgiving pace you were riding him at, beads of sweat splashing onto his skin, so you decided to change the game a little.
“Come on, Tannie, if you want it, work for it.” You settled your weight on top of him, ceasing your movements as you cockwarmed him instead.
A displeased growl comes from the back of his throat, eyes snapping open with a glowing green. “Mc, move! Please!”
Slowly, the halo above his head began to flicker and dim before it shattered, dissipating in the air. Another growl escaped him as his wings followed suit, tail lashing out like a whip.
“That’s it— c’mon-!” You gasped when he yanked you forwards, chest pressing against his as his tail locked you in place. The only sounds that could leave you now were broken moans as he fucked you almost viciously.
“You know how I feel about you fucking. teasing. me. Feels good doesn’t it? Yeah? Cause I’m not stopping. ‘M not stopping until I physically can’t fuck you anymore— fuck, I needed you.”
†
Unabashed moans echo off the walls of Asmo’s bathroom as the fifth born writhes under your touch. The sound of water sloshing makes his cheeks burn fiery red and the sound of you moaning back at him makes it even worse.
“W-wait! You d-don’t have to— oh!”
“Shh, Azzy…’m just taking care of you. You were so hard and aching…could see it even though you tried to hide under the water.”
The white feathers ruffled with pleasure (slowly shedded away and turning back), hips jerking frantically to chase the pleasure. The bangle’s magic was completely buried under how hot you made him feel and the feeling of you licking along the edges of his leathery wings increased it ten fold.
“Yes, Mc, like that— don’t stop, just like that, just like that!” Amso curled over on you, horns knocking against your shoulder as he cried out even louder.
You fisted his cock harder and swiped your thumb over the tip relentlessly, “Yeah? Made you feel so good, you corrupted yourself, huh? Pretty little Azzy…come on, cum.”
The squeal he let out cracked halfway through, broken cries of your name following like a mantra. His hand encased yours, making sure you didn’t stop jerking him off.
“K-keep going, don’t stop! Wanna cum for you again ‘n again, gotta make up for when I was giving you away to the others, please, please, let me cum again for you!”
†
“H-haaah…ah! M-Mc…what’re you..o-oh..doing?”
“You said it made you happier seeing others get to eat, so…” you hummed, licking your lips before digging your tongue back into the slit of his cock, “I’m just..enjoying my meal…”
Beel had always lost his cool when you went down on him, finding your mouth to be too good at pleasuring him. The growl he let out was something only a demon could make.
The glowing of the bangle did nothing to deter you— in fact, you only laughed and peered up at him with the red sin of gluttony swirling through your irises. With another hum, you enveloped his cock in your mouth and forced your head as far down as you could, swallowing around him.
He tried so hard to not buck into your mouth or grip at your head as the magic worked to keep his ravenous nature at bay, but…that’s just not who he was anymore.
“C’mon, Beelie…want you to cum in my mouth, I wanna taste you..pretty please? Let me have it…”
A low groan fell past his lips, hips finally jerking up and accidentally making you choke. A rushed apology was given as his fingers tangled in your hair and gently guided your head at a faster pace.
The beating of his insectual wings was rapid as he got closer, magic completely dissipating when he let out a sound akin to a small roar, grabbing at his own horns when he came.
Watching you pull away with visibly stuffed cheeks, slowly working on swallowing it all (though drops still ran down your chin) made a sharp pang shoot through him.
“Thank you…you always make me feel so good, Mc…but..now ‘m hungry. Let me return the favor..wanna taste you too.”
†
“A-are you sure…this is o-okay?” Belphie chokes out quietly, hands pressing down on your hips to keep you pinned to the bed with your knees bent to your sides.
Your fingers curl in the sheets, body lurching forward at each thrust, “yeah, ‘s okay— feels good, doesn’t it? You’re doing so good, Bel…”
The clipped whines and gasps that Belphie was making made his cheeks flair with an embarrassed flush; but you were right. It felt so. fucking. good. And he didn’t think he ever wanted to stop.
Through the pleasure, it was easy to ignore the glowing bangle on his wrist and the voice in the back of his head telling him that he should have more reservations- that he shouldn’t be doing this— that voice wasn’t even his. Belphie wanted this, he did!
As your hands stretched back to claw at his lower stomach, you moaned out his name and wiggled your hips, begging him to go faster.
“Please, Bel…know you can go f-faster than this, want you to fuck me— please, please, please! Don’t wan’ you to be an angel, want you to be my demon again-!”
Magic cracked in the air, sending the hair on the back of your neck rising before a familiar tail curled around your stomach and yanked your lower half higher up, forcing your chest further into the mattress.
The attic bed creaked with the force he slammed into you at, whines mixing with growls now; his horns pressed against your skin as he rested his forehead against your back, making it arch even more.
“Yeah? You want me to fuck you senseless again? Couldn’t even go a couple days without having me play with you, fuck, you’re such a slut for me.”
#obey me x reader#om x reader#obey me smut#om smut#lucifer x reader#om lucifer#lucifer smut#mammon x reader#om mammon#mammon smut#leviathan x reader#om levi#leviathan smut#satan x reader#om satan#satan smut#asmo x reader#om asmo#asmo smut#beel x reader#om beel#beel smut#belphie x reader#om belphegor#belphie smut
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♡ Max "If It Weren't For The Baby" Verstappen | MV1
NEFERASKINGDOM
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/2be4ceca540281bc8484338ccee9e05c/5b4e6b7abce93bbb-c3/s540x810/97099dc4d1cf444c59bf01ca4ac0490e1ef27950.jpg)
Summary: Max and George show no signs of stopping anytime soon and poor y/n is stuck between a rock and a hard place. but soon things escalate when Max accidentally opens his big mouth.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/2be4ceca540281bc8484338ccee9e05c/5b4e6b7abce93bbb-c3/s540x810/97099dc4d1cf444c59bf01ca4ac0490e1ef27950.jpg)
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y/n_russell posted:
y/n_russell: Habibi come to Abu Dhabi✨
Comments:
user: SHE’S BACK, EVERYBODY STAY CALM!!! 🔥🔥🔥 user: MOTHER RETURNED TO THE GRID AND IT SHOWS. user: Abu Dhabi isn’t ready for her!! 😍 user: Not to be messy, but is that a bump or just the angle? 👀
user: Delete this before you embarrass yourself further. 🙄 user: You do realize that’s body-shaming, right? Yikes. user: Maybe it’s just the dress, maybe it’s none of our business. Either way—don’t. user: Imagine logging onto the internet just to get ratio’d in the comments. Couldn’t be me.
georgerussell63: Wow. 2 whole photo in front of Lewis’s garage? Feeling betrayed right now.
y/n_russell: omg george, do you want me to write "george is my favorite" on my forehead or something? relax. georgerussell63: I’m just saying, where’s the support? y/n_russell: maybe if your garage didn’t feel like the waiting room at a dentist’s office, I’d consider it. georgerussell63: That’s because we’re professional. y/n_russell: nah, it’s because you have the personality of unseasoned chicken. user: 💀💀💀 SHE CAME FOR HIS LIFE.
user: MAX. LIKED. WHAT DOES THIS MEAN.
user: Not Max creeping in the shadows like that. George, sweetie, you seeing this? user: Netflix doesn’t even need to make a script this season. The show’s writing itself.
landonorris: MOTHER.
y/n_russell: 🔪🔪🔪 user: The knives are out. Lando, RUN.
lewishamilton: Always great to have you around. Thanks for showing up and supporting me this weekend. Much love ❤️
y/n_russell: Wouldn’t miss it for the world, you know I’m rooting for you Lew! Big things ahead 💪🏽
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f1teaspill posted:
f1teaspill: Okay, F1 fans, we’ve got a hot one for you! Max Verstappen and George Russell’s sister, Y/n, were spotted on a hotel balcony together, and it’s seriously got people talking. 👀 Y/n was supposed to be at a totally different hotel with George, so why is she with Max—especially with all the drama going down between them? 🤔
Is there something going on between these two? Or is Y/n just making it clear that she’s Team Max in this ongoing feud? You know we’ll be watching this one unfold closely... 🔥
Comments:
user: Yooo, what’s going on here?! Y/n is in Max’s hotel?? 😳
user: Is this a secret relationship or is Y/n just picking sides? I need answers!! 😬
user: So Y/n's team Max now? This is messy. 👀
user: Max and Y/n are lowkey dating and no one’s telling us?! I need the receipts ASAP. 😩🔥
user: Sis really out here with Max?? I can’t believe this. George is gonna flip. 😬
user: Okay, but like... is she betraying George by cozying up with Max right now? Or is she just done with the drama? 👀
user: Nah, this can’t be real. She’s out here looking all comfy with Max while George is literally her brother?? What kind of betrayal is this? 😱
user: Is this the kind of power move we’re witnessing?? Y/n dropping George for Max?? 🤯💥
user: Ok, but lowkey, I ship them so hard. Max and Y/n would make the hottest couple. 🔥🔥
user: No, fr. Max and Y/n are EVERYTHING. They look so good together, I’m lowkey obsessed. 😍👀 user: Can we just take a minute to appreciate how they’re literally radiating chemistry? I don’t care if they’re not dating—they should be. 😩💅
user: The way she’s just chilling with Max tho... George must be somewhere crying right now. 🤣💀
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f1teaspill posted:
f1teaspill: “If it weren’t for the baby.” Three words that sent the paddock and the internet into absolute mayham today after Max Verstappen dropped the bomb during an interview. 👶💣
Fans are already in detective mode, dissecting every second of this wild moment. Whose baby? Is Max a secret dad? And what does George Russell have anything to do with it?
Interview Transcript:
Journalist: Max, earlier this week George Russell referred to you as a “bully” in his recent comments. Do you have any thoughts on that?
Max: (chuckles awkwardly) Well, you know, George always has something to say. I’m not going to get into it.
Journalist: But do you think his characterization of you is fair?
Max: (sighs) Look, I’m just here to race. I’m not interested in petty drama.
Journalist: It doesn’t seem like George is letting it go anytime soon. Are you planning to address it with him directly?
Max: (visibly annoyed) I really don’t see the point in—
Journalist: But isn’t it important to clear the air, especially since the tension is so public now?
Max: (snapping) If it weren’t for the baby, I wouldn’t even bother trying to make peace with him!
(A beat of stunned silence. Max’s eyes widen in realization.)
Journalist: The… baby? What baby? Max, can you clarify—
(Max mutters something under his breath and walks off, leaving the journalist baffled.)
Comments:
user: BABY???? HELLO? MAX, EXPLAIN YOURSELF.
user: What baby, Max?! WHOSE BABY?! I haven’t been this confused since Abu Dhabi 2021.
user: Can someone please check if Max even knows what he said? He looked so panicked when he walked off.
user: “If it weren’t for the baby”??? Sir, we’re not in Panem; calm down.
user: Peeta Verstappen has entered the chat. Someone hand him a loaf of bread. user: Peeta Mellark walked so Max Verstappen could run user: I just KNOW someone’s editing Max into a Peeta scene as we speak. Can’t wait.
user: Okay but what baby would involve George? George is childless?
user: Guys, hear me out: What if Max is secretly dating George’s sister? That’s the ONLY way a baby ties them together. user: Nah, there’s no way. George would’ve punched Max into next week already. user: Okay but think about it. Max. George’s sister. A baby. Uncle George. THIS IS LORE. user: I’m just saying, George’s sister has been looking very glow-y lately… 👀 user: Not a theory, just facts: Max is babytrapping George into a truce. 💀 user: Wait... isn’t George’s sister in Abu Dhabi right now?? 👀 user: omg and they were seen together on his hotel balcony jskjsk user: I’M SCREAMING. THIS THEORY IS TOO GOOD. user: Max... the man, the myth, the secret brother-in-law.
user: F1 fandom today: trying to figure out if Max has a secret family or if we’re all just collectively hallucinating.
user: Bro, if this is true, Netflix better dedicate a whole episode to Uncle George. user: “If it weren’t for the baby” is my villain origin story now.
user: GUYS. What if Max meant baby as in, like, his cat or something? We’re spiraling.
user: Okay but why would George care about Max’s cat?! Use your brain. user: Honestly, the only thing that makes sense is Max dating George’s sister. Uncle George confirmed. Case closed.
user: Y’all, the way I will actually SCREAM if Max and George’s sister are together. This is better than any race drama.
user: Max Verstappen?? A baby daddy?? In THIS economy??
user: Everyone’s fighting over the baby, but I’m just here wondering how Christian Horner is gonna spin this in interviews.
user: Plot twist: The baby is Christian Horner’s with Toto 😭
user: STOP. This is the most chaotic F1 season ever, and I love it.
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#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x y/n#max verstappen x you#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fanfic#mv1 x reader#mv1 x you#mv1 x y/n#f1 x female reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x reader#formula one x reader#formula one x y/n#formula one x you#f1 smau#f1 social media au#f1 x you#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 x female reader#formula 1 x y/n#formula 1 x oc#formula 1 x you#f1 x oc#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#formula one smau#formula one fanfiction#formula 1 fic#george russell x reader#george russell x you
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𝐒𝐇𝐘 𝐁𝐎𝐘 ✦ 𝐎𝐏⁸¹
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SUMMARY: You are Lando Norris’ twin sister and were completely obsessed with your brother’s teammate, but he was always avoiding you. NOTES: English is not my first language, so there might be some writing mistakes. I apologize for that, and feel free to point out any improvements. PAIRING: Oscar Piastri x Reader! Lando Norris’ Sister. WARNING: Hot scenes, but not explicit; use of Y/N; Oscar is very shy. WC: 4.7k
MASTERLIST | THE (IM)PERFECT PLAN SERIE
“You need to go a little easier on him,” Lando said as soon as he entered the small room, throwing his backpack onto the chair with a tired sigh. “Oscar’s shy, and you’re scaring the poor guy to death.”
You, leaning against the desk with your legs crossed and your eyes glued to your phone, ignored the first part of the comment. But the last part caught your attention.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you replied, feigning disinterest.
“Oh, come on, don’t act dumb,” Lando shot back, crossing his arms with a smirk. “You’re cornering Oscar. I was going to let it slide because, honestly, it’s hilarious. But look, you’re going too far, and he clearly doesn’t know how to handle it.”
You realized denying it would be pointless. Lando knew exactly what you were doing, and probably the whole paddock did too. Maybe it was time to turn the tables in your favor.
“Did he complain about me?” you asked, now genuinely curious, a mischievous smile tugging at your lips. “Because, seriously, I don’t get it. Sometimes it seems like he doesn’t care, but then, in the next minute, he acts like I’m the personification of chaos.”
Your voice carried a touch of frustration. Ever since you met Oscar last season, you had done everything to get his attention. Flirting, glances, little touches. But he always pulled away or acted like he didn’t notice. His shyness, which once seemed charming, was now starting to feel like an impenetrable barrier.
Lando laughed, clearly enjoying himself at your expense. “You know what’s funny? You think you can melt anyone with that smile and some games. But let me tell you, Oscar’s different. He’s more… reserved.”
“I know that,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “And that’s exactly why I’m trying harder. He’s not like the others. It just makes it more interesting.”
Lando shook his head, incredulous. “You’re impossible, you know that? But look, if you keep this up, he’s gonna start running away from you. Like, literally. One day, he’s gonna abandon the car in the middle of the track just to escape.”
You laughed. “He already runs, just in a way less obvious than that. But he’ll get used to it. It’s just a matter of time.”
“Or a restraining order.”
“Funny,” you replied, giving him a sharp look.
After a brief silence, you decided to change tactics. “You could help me out!” you asked, in an exaggeratedly sweet tone.
“No way. Stay out of this, Y/N,” Lando responded quickly, as if he already knew where this was going.
“You’re so heartless!” you retorted, with a theatrical touch. “I come every weekend to support you, and this is how I’m treated? You should, I don’t know, compensate me for always being by your side.”
“Support? You’re kidding, right?” Lando laughed. “The whole team already figured out why you’re always here. And the only person who might not have noticed is Oscar himself.”
“What slander!” you snapped, placing a hand on your chest as if deeply offended. “I come because I like my brother. And I thought he liked me too, but apparently, he doesn’t care enough to help me with something so simple.”
Lando just laughed and raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. What exactly do you want me to do?”
“Simple. Find out if he likes me or not. Easy, right?”
Before you could continue the discussion, someone knocked on the door, interrupting the conversation.
“Come in!” Lando replied casually.
The door opened to reveal Oscar. Your excitement was immediate. He, on the other hand… didn’t seem as thrilled to see you.
“I didn’t know your sister was here,” he said to Lando, hesitantly. “I didn’t want to interrupt. I’ll come back later.”
Before he could leave, you rushed to his side and lightly placed your hand on his arm, still covered by his racing suit.
“You don’t have to leave, Osc,” you said softly, your fingers purposely brushing against the fabric of his suit. “Lando and I weren’t talking about anything important. Feel free to stay.”
Oscar hesitated but eventually gave in. “Alright, if you say so…”
Oscar tried to pull away from your touch without being rude, and you, noticing his discomfort, decided to ease the tension and let him slip away.
“Well… I just wanted to ask about the car adjustments for tomorrow. But I guess I interrupted something…” He seemed genuinely uncomfortable, which only made you want to tease him even more.
“You didn’t interrupt anything,” you replied with a calm smile. “Actually, I’ll just sit here quietly while you two chat.”
With that, you sat down in a chair lost in the room, pretending to fiddle with your phone while you took the opportunity to observe Oscar. The way he spoke, gestured, or even furrowed his brow when something seemed confusing… it was fascinating.
The two of them spent a few minutes discussing technical adjustments for the car when they were interrupted again. This time, it was someone from the PR team, rushing in to inform Lando that they needed him for an urgent photo session.
“I’m on my way,” Lando said, standing up. But before leaving, he gave you a calculated look. “Oscar, can you stay here? Y/N was feeling a bit nauseous earlier, and I didn’t want her to be alone.”
Your heart skipped a beat. It was obvious he was making it up, but the feigned concern in his voice was flawless. You knew you owed Lando a big favor now, but it was worth it. For Oscar, everything was worth it.
“Seriously?” Oscar looked visibly surprised, casting a suspicious glance from you to Lando. “Alright, if she needs anything…”
“Thanks a lot, buddy,” Lando replied with a mischievous smile, giving Oscar’s arm a friendly squeeze before walking toward the door. “I’ll be back soon. Wait for me here.”
As soon as the door closed, you jumped up and practically ran to the couch, pulling Oscar down to sit next to you before he could even react.
“Thanks so much for staying, Osc,” you said softly, as if you were truly vulnerable. “I wasn’t feeling too great, you know?”
Oscar tensed next to you, clearly uncomfortable. He looked around, as if searching for an escape route. “Is everything okay now? Do you want me to get some water or something?”
“No, no, it’s fine, it’s passed,” you replied, placing your hand on his arm. “I just needed some company. I feel better this way.”
Oscar let out a nervous, short laugh and looked away, clearly trying not to acknowledge the closeness between you two.
“You look cute when you’re nervous, you know?” you remarked, a mischievous smile appearing on your face.
He opened his mouth to respond but seemed to lose his words. Finally, he muttered, “I’m… not nervous.”
“Oh, really?” you teased, leaning in a little closer, until there was almost no space left between you on the small couch. Oscar seemed even more restless, the blush on his face now impossible to hide.
“I think… we don’t need to be this close,” he managed to say, awkwardly trying to pull away. But, poor thing, there was nowhere left to escape.
“Osc,” you started, in a fake hurt tone, looking down at your hands. “I think you don’t like me very much.”
He seemed surprised, the tension in his shoulders easing for a moment. “Why would you think that?”
“Because every time I’m around, you try to get away.” Your voice sounded almost like a lament, and you took the opportunity to glance at him before looking down at your legs. “Did I do something to you?”
When you looked back at him, your face was perfectly molded into a sad expression, your eyes slightly glistening, as if you were truly upset. It was almost impossible not to believe it.
Oscar hesitated, looking genuinely puzzled. “No… of course not. It’s just that…” He stopped, clearly trying to find the right words.
“It’s just that…?” you encouraged, tilting your head.
“You’re… too intense, Y/N,” he finally confessed, his voice low. “I don’t know how to handle you, that’s all.”
A triumphant smile threatened to appear on your lips, but you held it back, keeping up the act. “Intense? I just… like being around you, you know? Is that really so hard?”
Oscar rubbed the back of his neck, visibly uncomfortable. “It’s not that. I’m just not used to… attention.”
“So, you’re saying I make you uncomfortable?” you asked, leaning slightly toward him, closing the space even more.
Oscar looked away, his ears turning even redder. “I didn’t say that.”
“Then what are you saying?”
Before he could answer, the door suddenly opened, and Lando walked into the room with that typical mischievous smile you knew so well. “Did I interrupt something?”
Oscar practically jumped off the couch, creating visible distance between you two. It was almost comical, but at that moment, you could only curse your brother. He had ruined the perfect moment. You were so close to getting what you wanted!
“No, no,” Oscar quickly denied, the words tumbling out almost in a rush. “Now that you’re here, I… I think I’ll head out. See you before the next practice.”
And without giving anyone a chance to react, he practically bolted out of the room, as if running away from a fire.
You let out a loud sigh, crossing your arms and shooting a deadly glare at Lando, who was still standing in the doorway, clearly enjoying your discomfort.
“You did that on purpose!” you accused, frustration clear in your voice.
“Me? No way,” Lando responded, feigning innocence as he closed the door behind him. “But you should’ve seen his face. Poor guy, he looked like he was going to pass out.”
“He wasn’t going to pass out!” you retorted, throwing a pillow toward your brother, who easily dodged it.
“Alright, alright. But seriously, Y/N, you’re being way too hard on the guy.” He threw himself onto the couch, taking the spot Oscar had just vacated. “Don’t you think he’s nervous enough already? Every time you get close, it’s like he forgets how to breathe.”
You huffed, sinking into the couch next to him. “Maybe he just needs to get used to me. It’s not that hard, right?”
Lando raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “For you, maybe. But for him? Oscar is… different. He’s not used to someone like you.”
“Someone like me?” you repeated, intrigued.
“You know,” Lando explained, gesturing vaguely. “Someone who’s not afraid to say what they want and go after it. Oscar’s more… reserved. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t like you, he just doesn’t know how to react.”
You were silent for a moment, processing Lando’s words. Maybe he was right. Maybe Oscar just needed a little more time. But giving up wasn’t an option. Not now.
“Okay,” you finally said, a mischievous smile appearing on your lips. “I’ll go easy on him. For now.”
Lando laughed, clearly amused by your determination. “Good luck, sis. You’re going to need it.”
The next day, you positioned yourself strategically in the garage, waiting for the right moment to find Oscar. When he finally appeared, talking to one of the engineers, you calmly walked over with a relaxed smile, pretending you had no agenda in mind.
“Hey, Osc,” you greeted, your voice light and carefree. “How’s everything after yesterday? You seemed in a rush.”
Oscar turned to you, and it was almost funny how hard he tried to appear casual, even though he was clearly uncomfortable. “Oh, yeah… I was just running late for something.”
“Of course, of course,” you responded with a soft smile. “Well, I hope things are calmer now. Maybe we can chat after qualifying?”
He hesitated, shooting a near-pleading glance at the engineer beside him, as if he was hoping they could save him. But this time, something different sparkled in Oscar’s eyes. It wasn’t fear or discomfort. It was curiosity, though still shy.
“Yeah… maybe,” he finally replied, his voice softer than usual.
You smiled, already considering that a small victory.
Unfortunately, finding Oscar after qualifying turned out to be impossible. Lando secured pole position, and you stayed to congratulate him, while Oscar, with a disappointing P5, was swept into endless conversations with engineers and mechanics.
By the time it was late, almost time to head back to the hotel, you went to Lando’s room to grab your things while he wrapped up the last commitment of the day. That’s when fate decided to be kind.
The door next to your brother’s room opened, and who stepped out but the exact person you’d been hoping to see.
“Osc!” you called out cheerfully, a bright smile on your face.
“Hey.” His response was much less enthusiastic. The tone of defeat and frustrated expression clearly showed that he was still upset about the qualifying result.
“Bummed about P5?” you asked, trying to start a conversation.
“It wasn’t what I expected,” he admitted, crossing his arms. “But I’ll make up for it tomorrow.” There was a forced confidence in his voice that you didn’t miss.
“I’m sure you will! And look, I’m calling the podium: Lando in first, and you in second. What do you think?”
You stepped a little closer, almost unintentionally, trying to minimize the distance between you. But for Oscar, there was nothing subtle about your approach. He clearly noticed.
“You’re optimistic,” he commented, trying to ignore how you seemed to invade his space without hesitation.
“I’m not optimistic, I’m realistic,” you shot back, a mischievous smile playing on your lips.
Oscar looked away, clearly looking for an escape route, but you weren’t about to let him slip away so easily.
“Look, Osc,” you began, your tone softening as you leaned in slightly. “I really think you underestimate how good you are at what you do. You’ve got everything to be at the top. You just need to believe in yourself more.”
He blinked, clearly caught off guard by your change in tone. You saw the tension in his shoulders ease slightly, and that was enough for you to close the gap just a little more, your smile now sweeter than mischievous.
“You really think so?” he asked, his voice low, almost hesitant.
“I know it,” you replied, sincerity shining through.
Oscar still seemed hesitant, but he didn’t pull away when you placed a light hand on his arm, your fingers resting casually. “You just need to learn to relax more. Maybe I can help with that,” you said, your voice almost a whisper.
Oscar swallowed, his eyes finally meeting yours. For a moment, you thought he was going to give in. He seemed torn between wanting to escape and something he clearly didn’t want to admit. You leaned in a little closer, feeling you were on the edge of success.
“You’re really hard, you know?” he murmured, the words practically floating between you two.
Oscar opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. And just as you were about to close the distance even more, he took a step back, almost stumbling into the wall behind him.
“I… I need to go,” he said quickly, his voice shaky but firm. “Good night, Y/N.”
Before you could react, he was already halfway down the hallway, walking so fast it was almost a run.
You let out a frustrated sigh, but deep down, you couldn’t help but smile. Little by little, Oscar was starting to give in, even if he still resisted at the last second. It was only a matter of time.
And you knew very well that you had all the patience in the world to wait.
The paddock was a well-organized chaos, with mechanics, engineers, and drivers moving around frantically as the grandstands filled with enthusiastic fans. You, of course, were there, strategically positioned in Oscar’s team’s garage, pretending to be just casually walking around but with a very clear goal in mind.
He was there, adjusting his gloves while listening carefully to an engineer. He seemed so focused, he could have blended in with the rest of the team. Almost. You, however, always managed to spot him in the crowd.
“Hey, Osc!” you called, walking into the space without any hesitation.
Oscar quickly turned, his eyes widening slightly when he saw you there. “Y/N? What are you doing here?”
“I came to wish you good luck, of course,” you answered with a sweet but mischievous smile.
“Good luck?” He seemed suspicious, clearly aware that you rarely did something that simple.
“Of course!” You tilted your head slightly, looking at him as if his question was absurd. “You know I’ll be cheering for you too, right? First Lando, and then you!”
Oscar opened his mouth to respond but closed it again, a blush already creeping up his face. He looked around desperately, almost as if hoping someone would save him from the situation. But, as you’d already noticed, no one was paying attention to you two.
“You’re kind of tense, Osc. It won’t go well like this, you know?” You stepped a little closer, lowering your voice slightly, but still clearly teasing. “Are you nervous because of me?”
“No,” he quickly replied, although his tone and the blush on his face said otherwise.
“Hmm… funny,” you murmured, pretending to think. “Because it seems like every time I get close, you get a little… uneasy.”
“Y/N, we’re in the pit… in public,” he whispered, almost as if trying to make you stop.
“So what? No one’s listening, and we’re not doing anything wrong, are we?” you shot back, a smile mixing sweetness and mischief on your lips. “I’m here to support you, Osc. And, speaking of that, I have a proposition for you.”
He squinted his eyes, clearly suspicious. “What kind of proposition?”
“If you get on the podium today… I’ll give you a special gift,” you said, leaning slightly toward him, your voice low but filled with mystery.
“What gift?” He looked at you, nervousness clear on his face, but at the same time, unable to hide his curiosity.
“It’s a surprise,” you replied, winking conspiratorially.
“Y/N…” He sighed, clearly trying to keep his composure. “You know you didn’t have to come here for that, right?”
“I know,” you answered, your smile growing wider. “But what’s the fun in cheering from a distance? Besides, you might not know, but I’m great at picking out gifts.”
Oscar seemed like he was about to say something, but one of the engineers appeared out of nowhere, calling him for the final pre-race meeting. He sighed in visible relief, almost grabbing the opportunity to escape.
“I have to go,” he said quickly.
“Good luck, Osc,” you replied, not hiding your satisfaction. “I’ll be waiting on the podium. And after the race… the gift is all yours.”
He didn’t reply, just nodded quickly before disappearing toward the engineer. You watched as he walked away, even more flushed than before, and let out a soft laugh.
This time, he had no way of backing out of the promise. And, knowing Oscar, the thought of a “special gift” would be enough to keep him thinking about you the whole time—on or off the track.
The end of the race was electrifying. You, as usual, were glued to the screen, following the final minutes with the anticipation of someone on the track. The last lap was a mix of tension and excitement. Lando crossed the finish line in first, and you couldn’t hold back your shout of joy. But what really made you jump out of your seat was when Oscar secured third place, holding off a fierce battle until the final flag.
“Yes! I knew you could do it, Osc!” you murmured to yourself, smiling proudly as you watched the celebration on the screen.
Soon, you were following the team toward the podium. The paddock was a party, with team members rushing to celebrate their drivers. You blended in with Lando’s engineers and mechanics but kept your eyes fixed on Oscar as he got out of the car, exhausted but visibly satisfied.
The celebration on the podium was contagious. Champagne flew from side to side, and Lando’s smile was so wide it seemed to light up the entire circuit. But your gaze never left Oscar, who looked more shy than ever as he raised his trophy. Even amid the celebration, he shot furtive glances at you in the crowd, which only made your smile grow.
As soon as the ceremony was over, everyone went back to the garage. The team was euphoric, celebrating the incredible result of the race. You found Lando first, who came running toward you with his trophy in hand.
“So, what did you think?” he asked, still sweaty and covered in champagne.
“You were amazing! Doesn’t even seem like my brother,” you joked, laughing as he hugged you and got champagne on your clothes.
“And Oscar, huh?” Lando commented, winking at you. “Are you proud of your favorite driver?”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop smiling. “Don’t start, Lando.”
After the initial excitement, you began preparing to leave. Lando had some team commitments to take care of before heading back to the hotel, so you walked through the paddock, waiting for him. You bumped into Oscar, who seemed more relaxed, still talking to a few engineers.
“Congrats, Osc!” you said, with a genuine smile.
He quickly turned his head, as if he hadn’t expected you to appear there. “Oh, thanks,” he replied, a shy smile forming on his lips.
“I told you’d make it to the podium. Now you know what that means, right?” you teased, leaning slightly forward.
Oscar turned bright red, looking away at anything that wasn’t you. “I… think so?”
“Great.” You winked and walked away before he could respond, knowing exactly the effect you were having.
After a while, Lando finally appeared. “Ready to go?”
“More than ready.” You smiled, following him to the car that would take you back to the hotel.
Back at the hotel, the exhaustion from the race still lingered, but the excitement pulsed even stronger. Lando was sprawled on the couch in his room, talking nonstop about the race and, of course, the party that was about to happen.
“I need to get ready. What, you’ve got about 30 minutes before I drag you to the party?” you teased, grabbing your bag.
“Thirty? You’re being way too optimistic,” he laughed. “You wouldn’t be able to get ready in 30 minutes even if Oscar asked you to.”
“Oh, Lando…” You smiled slyly as you walked toward the door. “For Oscar, I’d do it in fifteen.”
Lando’s expression was priceless, but you didn’t give him a chance to respond. You walked out laughing and went straight to your room, already imagining how you’d make the night unforgettable. After all, a P1 for Lando and a P3 for Oscar was more than enough reason to celebrate in style.
You chose a stunning black Versace dress, fitting just right, and paired it with high heels from the same brand. But the special touch was in the details that no one would see—or rather, that almost no one would see: a papaya-colored lingerie set, matching the team’s colors, chosen especially for the occasion.
The team had reserved a table in the VIP section of a luxurious club. The atmosphere was pure euphoria—champagne, loud music, and laughter filled the air. As soon as they arrived, you made sure to sit strategically next to Oscar, who seemed out of place, unsure of what to do with all the attention around him.
“Osc, relax,” you murmured in his ear, smiling as you noticed he seemed more nervous than he had been during the race.
“I’m relaxed,” he replied, but the hand holding his drink was trembling slightly.
The conversation flowed with the team, but you made sure to provoke Oscar in little moments. You brushed your leg against his, made comments about how well he did in the race, and, of course, mentioned the “special present.”
“If I knew a P3 would make you this happy, I would’ve tried harder earlier,” he joked, trying to appear more confident.
“Oh, Osc, you have no idea,” you replied, smiling with an enigmatic tone.
As time went by, more people started to drift away from the table to dance or talk in other corners. Before long, it was just the two of you. That was your cue.
“So, Osc…” You leaned in a little closer, the loud music muffling the conversation. “About my present… do you want to know what it is?”
Oscar blushed instantly, looking away as he always did when he felt uncomfortable. “I… I don’t think I should ask.”
“Oh, you definitely should.” Your voice dropped low, almost a whisper, as your eyes challenged his. “I did something special to celebrate your P3. And maybe to encourage you to get more podiums in the future.”
He swallowed nervously. “I need… to go to the bathroom,” he said quickly, standing up before you could react.
You smiled to yourself. “So predictable,” you murmured as you followed him with determined steps.
Oscar looked genuinely surprised when you appeared in the hallway, blocking his escape route. “Seriously, Y/N? I just wanted a minute of peace.”
“No chance.” You took a step forward, cornering him against the wall, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. “I followed you to show you my present.”
Oscar looked at you, clearly uncomfortable, but his curiosity won out. “I don’t know if I want to see that,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady, though the sparkle in his eyes betrayed his curiosity.
You laughed softly, almost amused, and slid the strap of your dress down, revealing a glimpse of the papaya lingerie, the color of the team. “See? Something special for my favorite driver.”
For a moment, Oscar was speechless, his face turning a deeper red than usual. But something seemed to have shifted in him, as if the provocation had awakened something. He took a step forward, closing the distance between you. The look he had now wasn’t shy, but challenging, almost provocative.
“You like to tease, don’t you?” His voice was low but filled with a newfound confidence that you didn’t expect. “But you know what, Y/N? You can’t last three minutes when the roles are reversed.”
The smile on his face made you hesitate for a second, and he immediately seized the opportunity. Without saying another word, he pulled you closer, his hands firmly gripping your waist. The warmth of his body against yours made your heart race, and before you could say anything, Oscar’s lips found yours.
It was an intense, heated kiss, as if he had been swept away by the wave of provocation you had started. Oscar's hands glided over your skin, as if memorizing every part of you, while you couldn't think clearly anymore.
When he pulled away slightly, his eyes glowing in a way you didn't recognize, you were speechless, your body still burning from his proximity and touch.
He leaned in again, whispering in your ear:
"Lost your voice, baby? Always knew you were just talk."
Your breathing was uneven, but you could only stare at him, completely lost.
He grinned to the side, satisfied with the effect he was having.
It didn't take long for him to attack you with even more intense kisses.
You were getting addicted to the taste, to the feeling of being touched by him.
One of his hands slid up your thigh, slowly rising inside your dress. He squeezed your butt firmly, and you couldn't contain a moan. He played with the waistband of your panties, starting to pull them down.
"What are you doing?" you asked, breathless. "Someone might see."
"Now you're afraid of being seen?" he continued, dragging the fabric down your leg. "You never cared before."
He knelt down, completely removing the piece of lingerie.
"But don't worry, baby!" He stood up, pressing his body against yours again.
"I'm not going to do anything here."
He kissed you quickly and pulled away, looking into your eyes while slipping the piece into his pocket.
"If you want it back, find me in my room later."
And just like that, he was gone, leaving you there, completely speechless and hungry for more.
#f1#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1#formula 1 x reader#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri x reader
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The Orc who you had fallen for, was the King’s personal guard! Although stern and menacing, he had always been kind to you.
You, the daughter of a Lord who worked on keeping the Queen company, answering her letters and mostly stayed out of sight of the King and his guard!
Since your families fortune was dwindling, your brothers securing marriages to rich young ladies, that made you the only one who wasn’t looked to much. Being a young woman in a family on the brink of ruin, meant that there wasn’t much for you to do other than try and get into the Regents good graces, and hope that you’d find a rich man who could take care of you.
But you’d never had such interest in men. It was always the King’s personal guard who caught your eye. Something about his stoic demeanour always made you feel safe, protected.
At first, you tried to keep your feelings a secret, there was no way that your family would approve of you harbouring such feelings towards the Orc, let alone even think about letting you marry him.
On a fateful night, where the King and Queen held a party, you were delighted when he approached you. You’d never taken him for being the one to make the first move. Not that you weren’t grateful.
That night, the pair of you had danced in the gardens were no one would see you, shared stolen kisses and giggled and laughed like you had never done before.
The pair of you promised to keep this a secret – nothing good would come of people knowing you two were together.
Not even the other Ladies in waiting knew about your relationship.
It was like something out of a novel. A forbidden romance, only a fantasy that could become a reality for a few glorious hours each time the pair of you got together.
It felt good to finally have someone notice you, tell you that you were beautiful, worthy of love and attention. He would leave you gifts in your chambers, with sweet little notes. They were mostly pieces of jewellery, necklaces, bracelets and broaches.
There was a part of you that hoped that one day, you would walk into your bedroom and find a small velvet box, containing a precious ring with that signature singular diamond that signified an engagement.
In one of your secret meetings, you did ask, “why don’t we just run away? Get married and leave all this behind?”
He had let out a snort, “darling, you wouldn’t last a day out there without all this granduer.”
You protested, “I could! I’d do it if it meant we could be together forever!”
At that, your lover had shot a glower at you. It surprised you, you’d never seen him look at you with so much contempt. “Well that’s never going to happen.” He said, harshly. “So get that silly idea out of your head.”
Your heart had chipped upon hearing that. Would it really be so bad to be married to one another? In domestic bliss?
After that conversation, he was cold to you. Colder than normal. He dodged you at every opportunity, even if it was just seeing each other in the halls, he would turn and stalk off in the opposite direction.
While you hadn’t meant to offend him, his reaction to the idea of you two being promised to one another was certainly an unwarranted one. He didn’t need to be so mean about it… but you loved him, and thought that maybe a big gesture of showing him how much you adored him would bring him back around.
So, one evening, you decided to bring a gift to him and deliver it personally. He was always giving you nice things, why couldn’t you do the same?
It was hard, choosing what to get him. What do you gift an Orc who has nearly everything handed to him just for being the King’s personal guard?
After a while, you finally decided. Your family was known for housing a baking empire, and thus, cooking was one of your families forte’s. And so you made him a cake.
With swirls of pink icing and cursive lettering on the top of the cake, you boxed it up after a days hard work and waited until night fall.
Your Orc lived just on the edges of the Palace grounds, and you would be undoubtably spotted if you went during the day. Donning a cloak and pulling up it’s hood, you left your quarters and headed for the Palace grounds.
The guards changed their shifts, and using the unmanned Palace doors, you darted through and raced to the edge of the grounds.
Now that you were on your way there, you realised that you’d never even been to his house before. Your Orc had never invited you, nor had you been close to it while accompanying walks with your Mistress, the Queen.
A tiny little cottage sat just at the edge of the Palaces’ garden walls, warm, inviting orange light flickering in it’s windows, puffs of smoke wafting out of the chimney.
You sped up your already hurried walk. Great, he was home. As you got closer, you saw shadows moving about inside the cottage and the silhouette of a woman.
The smile that had been spread across your face faded, your walk slowing down as you approached the cottage door.
A female Orc appeared in the window, a huge grin spread across her face as she laughed to someone unseen. You recognised her from the kitchens, she was always happy to talk to you about baking if you were ever bored and went down to see what the cooks were doing.
It had been a little while since you’d seen her.
You kept your distance, not wanting to be spotted in the dim lighting. As you watched, you realised that this she was pregnant. She must be on maternity leave then, it would explain her sudden absence in the kitchens.
But… why is she here? In your lovers house?
She was still smiling, nodding to the other person in the cottage with her, before she laughed again and beckoned her company closer.
The box in your hands slipped and split open, all your hard work splatting across the grass as you watched the love of your life, the King’s Guard pull the pregnant Orc into a hug.
Your Orc, your lover gave her a tight squeeze and then kissed her on the lips.
You couldn’t help yourself, you stared in horror as they walked away from the window and vanished further into the cottage.
Vision blurring, you gripped your skirts and bent down to pick up the ruined cake in front of you. Scooping the remains of the sweet treat into what remained of the box, tears fell.
You couldn’t believe it. You, were the other woman? To a pregnant lady who clearly had your lover wrapped tightly around her finger?
All the words you had exchanged, all the compliments and reassurances of your Orc… were lies? How could he do that to you?
The tears became too heavy and you couldn’t even see the cake in front of you anymore. Fingers covered in icing, you put your head in your hands, stood and ran off further into the Palace grounds.
You didn’t care if they found the cake out there, it’s not like people in the Palace wouldn’t find it strange that you came back covered in sugary sweetness.
It’s not like you could tell anyone of your affair either, everyone would look down on you, gossip and then you would never have a good life after that.
And your family’s reputation would be in the gutter. Their daughter, an adulteress and homewrecker? It didn’t matter that you never knew, your standing would still be tarnished.
A quiet trickle of running water hit your ears, causing you to stop your run and fall to your knees, no longer able to contain your shrieks of heartbreak.
How could you have been so stupid? Of course there was no way that an Orc like him and a Lady like yourself could have gotten married… or that someone as amazing as him would have fallen for a woman like you.
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Part 2!
Hi! Thank you so much for reading my story! If you like this kind of content, you should check out my Patreon! There, I post stories twice a week and earlier than I post on Tumblr. I also post exclusive stories there too where you won’t be able to find anywhere else.
If you’re not sure about signing up, I have a 7 day free trial enabled so you can see if you like my work written there!
Taglist <3 (forgot to add when this post first came out, sorry guys!)
@sunndust @greenie-c
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#monster lover#monster romance#monster x human#monster x female#orc fiction#monster x you#monster x reader#orc boyfriend#orc romance#orc x reader#orc x reader angst#orc x human#monster husband#monster x female!mc#orc x you#orc x female reader#orc x human reader
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she's everything, he's max (mv33)
summary: y/n leclerc starts soft launching a man and soon enough there are paparazzi pictures of the two of them except no one quiet believes that the princess of monaco would settle down with ... max!
max verstappen x leclerc!reader -> smau
cw: some google translated french, my first attempt at a smau, inchident jokes, charles gets bullied
a/n: max won over franco by a few percent and I know there was a lot of people interested in seeing this with franco as well. I'd love to do something with franco so feel free to request it.
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yourusername: monaco you were beautiful! I'm so proud of my brother for finally achieving his dream and winning home - love you Cha!
tagged: charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari
liked by: arthur_leclerc, maxverstappen1, alexandrasaintmleux ...
comments:
charles_leclerc: je t'aime petite soeur
charles_leclerc: you could have at least posted a picture of me to celebrate my win
-> yourusername: don't be ridiculous cha, I have a reputation to uphold -> carsgovrom: turns out appearing on his sisters instagram is a harder feat than breaking the monaco curse -> lechair16: of course it is, mother has a refined feed
maxverstappen1: he's come a long way since the inchident liked by yourusername
charles_leclerc: get out of here
alexandrasaintmleux: <3
yourusername: <3
user366: anyone else notice that max's been in the likes for a while now
user374: he also commented user366: call me crazy but something may be going on here user422: you're crazy
user993: mother is mothering again
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yourusername: celebrating in style
liked by: charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, alexandrasaintmleux ...
comments:
maxverstappen1: charles_leclerc what's that in the second picture?
charles_leclerc: get out of my sisters comments, sid user778: lmao not charles using the max looks like sid meme user801: he didn't come to play
charles_leclerc: betrayal absolute betrayal!
charles_leclerc: first the redbull picture charles_leclerc: AND THEN A MAN charles_leclerc: delete this
arthur_leclerc: say hi to your friend ;)
charles_leclerc: he knows but I don't!!! I can not believe this blashphemy yourusername: he says hi back! yourusername: alexandrasaintmleux come take him away alexandrasaintmleux: consider it done
userus: do the monaco royals know mother is serving the public more than they ever could
user366: can he fight?
maxverstappen1: yes user366: I'm going crazy
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f1wags: last night in monaco, y/n leclerc (charles leclerc's sister) was spotted on a dinner with current f1 world champion, max verstappen. after leaving the restaurant the two were pictures kissing and walking intimately. are we getting a new wag in the paddock?
comments:
user366: and they said I was crazy!
user422: sorry girl
user1020: y'all are believing this? why would she date him?
user7789: I'm supposed to believe max pulled THE y/n?
charles_leclerc: oh!
user880: ariana what are you doing here!?
maxssssv: charles commented, it's gotta be real
userrrr: until mother confirms I refuse to believe she's dating .... him
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maxverstappen1: family time
liked by: yourusername, victoriaverstappen, charles_leclerc
comments:
user7741: does he really think he's fooling anyone with that soft launch?
uswws: oh he's kinda cute actually
user7755: this is the guy who dating Y/N LECLERC?!
charles_leclerc: tell y/n to call me back, I'm not mad I just want to talk
alexandrasaintmleux: he's mad arthur_leclerc: don't call him back charles_leclerc: I see how it is
f1addict: charles basically confirmed it, right?
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yourusername: another trophy on the shelf and another great race! couldn't be prouder of you or happier to call you mine. je t'aime max
tagged: maxverstappen1
comments:
charles_leclerc: ..... this is embarrassing, take it down
charles_leclerc: you never post pictures of me but he gets a whole post!?
charles_leclerc: don't bother coming over, leo already has a better aunt
maxverstappen1: I love you schatje
user366: crazy! I was crazy once
user122: I know she's astronomically out of his league but they're cute
user1010: no because finally someone said it! I ship it
lechair16: I'm only in the comments to see charles going mad atp
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maxverstappen1: happy 1 year, schatje! I love you more than words can describe, you have made every day of my life better since the moment you came to talk to me after your brother ruined my race, and now you're the person I dedicate every race win to. ik houd van je
tagged: yourusername
liked by: arthur_leclerc, alexandrasaintmleux, yourusername ...
comments:
yourusername: aw max! I love you so much!
arthur_leclerc: my sister's crying now, great job mate
arthur_leclerc: jokes aside, very happy for you two
charles_leclerc: fine! I guess you can stay
charles_leclerc: if you must.... charles_leclerc: but if you hurt my sister I won't hesitate to launch operation inchident 2.0 maxverstappen1: noted
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yourusername: here you go - welcome to the feed
tagged: charles_leclerc
liked by: maxverstappen1, alexandrasaintmleux, arthur_leclerc
comments:
user001: be honest, was posting charles a condition for him to accept max?
yourusername: yes
charles_leclerc: hey, we said good pictures!
yourusername: I happen to think you look really good in these pictures maxverstappen1: one would say, you've never looked so good charles_leclerc: you're on thin ice sid
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#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#formula one imagine#f1 x female reader#f1 x you#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 x you#formula 1#smau#formula 1 smau#f1 smau#max verstappen x y/n#max verstappen social media au#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x you#max x reader#max verstappen#mv1 x you#mv33#mv1 x reader#max verstappen smau
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Ladies With Experience
Paring(s): Dean Winchester x F!Reader
Summary: When Dean makes an off-handed comment about "preferring ladies with experience", you try (and fail) to not let it get under your skin. You're a virgin, but you've done just about everything else, and when you talk to Dean about it, he offers to be your first. He's your best friend, and you've been in love with him forever... who are you to deny him?
Tags: smut, first time, virgin!reader, dom/sub dynamics, dom!dean, p in v, oral (female receiving), spanking, fingering, not-so-innocent reader
Word Count: 5k
A/N: As always, thank you to my loves @wayward-dreamer and @makeadealwithdean for beta-ing. Would be nowhere without you two 🥰
You can also read me on Ao3!
DEAN WINCHESTER MASTERLIST | SUPERNATURAL MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST
“Anyways, let’s say you’re right, fine. Who would want virgins?”
You know Sam didn’t mean it like that , and you felt stupid for letting it bother you. For letting this case bother you.
“You got me,” Dean replied with a shrug. “I prefer ladies with experience.”
And there it was, like a punch straight to the gut. You hated that it hurt you as much as it did. So what, you’ve never had sex. But you’ve done almost everything else. You knew what you liked and what you didn't. You’ve been around the block a few times with the various sex toys in your nightstand drawer. It’s not like you weren’t experienced at all . But that didn’t make Dean’s words hurt any less. You swallowed down the burger and fries from lunch that were threatening to come up, before standing up from your seat at the small motel room table.
The brothers looked at you, eyebrows raised.
“I — bathroom,” you managed, before quickly making your way there, slamming the door shut behind you.
Staring at your reflection in the dirty bathroom mirror, you let the tears fall. Silently, you wiped them away as Dean’s words echoed in your head, and you hated that you loved him. Hated that you’d never be ballsy enough to admit it to him, especially now.
Something like five minutes passed and you knew you didn’t have long before one of the boys — likely Sam — would come knocking to check on you. You flushed the unused toilet so they wouldn’t suspect anything and turned on the faucet, splashing your tear-soaked face with cold water before using a hand towel to wipe it dry. When you emerged, the guys were packing up their duffels.
“Did you find them?” you asked, hopeful.
Dean checked his gun, before flipping the safety on and stuffing it in the back waistband of his jeans.
“I sure as hell hope so, ‘cause if I’m about to crawl through the goddamn sewers for nothing —”
“They’re down there, Dean,” Sam replied, giving him a pointed look. He turned his attention to you, and if he had noticed anything off, he hadn’t let his face show it. “You coming?”
You grabbed your gun off the dresser and holstered it in reply.
Six hours later, the three of you were sweaty, panting, and splattered in blood after a close fight with dragons in the sewers. Thankfully, you hadn’t had to wade in any actual sewage. You hadn’t said a word to either brother since you had gone to the bathroom six hours ago, and to keep them from growing suspicious of your sudden silence, you opted to take a nap in the backseat of the Impala on the way back to the motel.
You stirred awake as Dean pulled into the parking lot, barely conscious enough to catch the end of the brothers’ conversation.
“I’ll get her,” Dean said.
Sam nodded and got out of the car, gently closing the passenger side door before heading inside.
You rubbed your eyes, blinking away the sleep in them as Dean’s face came into focus. He was looking at you over his shoulder, one arm resting on the top of the front bench seat.
“Mornin’, sunshine.”
It took a moment for the feeling you had been filled with prior to your nap to come back to you, his words from earlier echoing in your head. I prefer ladies with experience . You shot him a cold glare.
“Alright. What’d I do?” he asked, turning in his seat to better angle himself towards you.
The question caught you off guard.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You haven’t said a word since we left for that hunt, Y/N.”
“How do you know Sam didn’t do something?”
He replied with a knowing look.
You stared at your hands, clasped together in your lap, and muttered, “It’s nothing. Stupid.”
“C’mon, talk to me,” he urged.
You hated this. How easy he was to talk to. How you had always been able to tell him what was on your mind.
But not this . You couldn’t tell him this.
You shook your head.
“Hey,” he said softly, shifting in his seat. He was fully turned around now, reaching out to tilt your chin up, forcing you to look at those green eyes. “Talk to me,” he repeated, no room for argument in his words.
“I can’t,” you whispered. You wanted to throw up. He was your best friend, and you were utterly, irrevocably, head-over-heels in love with him. He preferred girls with experience, and you had none. Not in the way that it mattered. And he had known that, thanks to a late-night stake-out game of Never Have I Ever .
His jaw clenched. “You can tell me anything, you know that.”
You briefly met his gaze. You couldn’t hold it for long.
“Was it something I said?” he prodded.
You stared at the buttons of his open flannel, your eyes quickly darting up to meet his in silent confirmation.
He sighed, pulling his hand away from your face and folding his arms on top of the backseat, resting his chin on his forearm.
“Do I at least get a hint?”
“Dean, I —”
“C’mon, Y/N. You’ve never not told me anything.”
“Why are you pushing this?”
“Because I can’t stand not talking to you.”
Your heart leaped at that confession, however innocent it might have been.
“I’m talking to you now, aren’t I?”
“Because I’m making you. You would have silent treatmented me into next week.”
You didn’t respond.
He sighed again, defeated. “Y/N, c’mon. Please? Whatever I said, I’m sorry. I’m sure I didn’t mean it.”
“You didn’t mean that you ‘prefer girls with experience’?” you retorted quite sassily. The question tumbled out before you even had time to think of the implication that came with asking it.
Dean opened and closed his mouth like a damn fish.
“Thought so.” You began to move to make your way out of the car, when Dean reached out and grabbed your wrist.
“No,” he finally said. “I didn’t mean it.”
“It’s okay if you do. I told you, it was a dumb thing to be upset about.”
“No, it’s not. I didn’t stop to think about how this case might have been affecting you. You know I wouldn’t have let anything happen to you, right?”
You swallowed, nodded. His hand felt like fire around your wrist.
“But for what it’s worth, I wasn’t serious. I don’t prefer anyone one way or the other. Sex is sex. If anyone’s willing to have it with me, I consider myself lucky.”
“Romantic,” you quipped.
A smile tugged at his lips. “I could show you, y’know.”
You almost threw up right there in the backseat. Your eyes grew wide.
“What?” you croaked.
“Well, if you’re worried about not having any experience… I just mean I’d be happy to, y’know. Show you the ropes.”
“… Of sex?” Really, you thought it was cute that he had this misconception of you. You knew about the ropes. You’d just never been tied up with them.
“Of whatever you want.”
“You think I want to have sex with you?” It came out harsher than you meant it to, like part of you still thought you could hide the fact that you were in love with him. Like if you just joked it off it would go away, and you wouldn’t have to cross this line with him, even though you so badly wanted to. But you had to protect yourself, your heart.
You didn’t miss the flash of hurt in his eyes.
“No, that’s not what I —”
You suddenly felt the need to clarify your question.
“No, I — I didn’t mean it like that either.”
Dean’s face morphed into one of confusion. “…So you do want to have sex with me?”
Your cheeks flushed red, and your throat bobbed. “Uh…”
“Forget it, stupid question, you don’t have to an—”
“Yeah,” you answered, your voice barely above a whisper. Fuck it. Who were you to hold yourself back from the one thing you’ve been wanting for years? You cleared your throat. “Yeah, I really, really do.”
Dean’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “Seriously?”
“Oh, cut the shit, Dean. Like you’re surprised. Everyone wants to have sex with you.”
He scoffed. “ Everyone , Y/N, really?”
“There are literally smutty fanfictions written about you,” you replied, reaching into your back pocket for your phone, dead set on proving your point.
“Gross. And Becky doesn’t count as everyone.”
“Actually, Becky only writes for Sam.”
You realized what you said at the same time he did, and he eyed you suspiciously.
“Why do you know that?”
God dammit. “I don’t. I mean — I — like, she obviously loves Sam. So, like, she wouldn’t write porn about you. Obviously.”
“Uh huh…” There was an uncomfortable silence for a beat or three. And then, “How much smut have you read about me?”
Your face felt like it had just been rinsed with fucking lava, and you knew it probably looked as red as it, too.
“None!” you exclaimed, way too quickly.
Dean smirked. “You do really wanna have sex with me,” he remarked, like he couldn’t believe it.
“Trust me, the urge is fading by the second.”
His grin disappeared almost instantly. “Would it help if I told you that I think about fucking you all the time, too?”
“Well, I don’t think about it all the —”
“Y/N.” He said your name like a warning, and the tone of his voice settled right in your core.
“Yeah,” you squeaked. “Yeah, that helps.”
“Good,” he smirked, before grabbing his phone from beside him.
“Uh… What are you doing?” You watched as he scrolled for a second, pressing a button before putting the phone to his ear.
“Telling Sammy to beat it.”
Your eyes grew wide. “What!?” you whisper-yelled. “No! Just — we can just do it back here!”
He gave you a pointed look. “I’m not taking your virginity in the backseat of my car, Y/N.”
“Why not!?”
“Because we’re not sixteen, for one. And for two… I wanna make it special.” He rushed the last bit out, like he was embarrassed to say it. And he should be. You cringed as you heard it.
“Oh my God,” you began.
“Shut up.”
“You did not just say that.”
“Shut up. Sam, answer your phone, God dammit!”
“I have done, like, almost everything else, you know. In the backseats of many, many cars. You don’t need to make it special for me, Deano,” you teased.
“For the last time, shut your mouth, or I’m gonna shut it for you,” he said, the look he gave letting you know he wasn’t in the mood to play. No, he wanted to fuck you. Beyond that, he wanted to dominate you. And you were more than happy to submit.
You might have been a virgin physically, but mentally? Mentally, you’d probably give Dean a run for his money.
Sam didn’t answer. Naturally. He was probably in the shower, but you were kind of grateful because as much as you wanted Dean, you didn’t want to make Sam uncomfortable. Or worse, give him any reason to give you the talk . Because he totally would. After trying his brother two more times, Dean decided it would be better to just get a room of your own, and you were much happier with that decision.
You watched as he unlocked the door, pushing it open and stepping aside, gesturing for you to go ahead.
“Ladies first.”
“You mean you’re not gonna carry me over the threshold?” you joked. “Thought you wanted to make this special .”
He gave you an unamused look, and you shot back a sarcastic closed-mouth smile before you were being swept off of your feet and over his shoulder faster than you could process.
“Dean!” you squealed, as he carried you through the doorway, kicking the door shut behind him before practically throwing you onto the bed.
He was hovering over you seconds later, his face a few inches from yours, and the mood shifted from playful to serious.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked.
You nodded, your fingers coming up to play with the collar of his flannel.
“If I tell you something, you promise you won’t make fun of me?” you questioned, your eyes glued to the plaid pattern on his shirt.
“Promise.”
“I was kinda… holding out for you.” You drew your eyes up to meet his.
“Seriously?” he asked, half laughing. You could tell it wasn’t because he thought it was funny. It was because he couldn’t believe it.
You swallowed nervously, nodding again as you stared into those green eyes, and you hoped that this meant as much to him as it did to you. Something told you it did.
“I wasn’t kidding, you know,” he said.
You tilted your head in question.
“About making it special for you. I know it’s like, the grossest thing I could have possibly said but, you deserve so much better than me, and so if —”
“There’s no one better for me, you idiot.” And you almost told him everything. That you’ve been in love with him ever since you met one summer at Bobby’s, back when you were just kids. That everything felt like it led up to this moment. That you wanted him to fuck you and make love to you all at once. That you didn’t want this to be the only time he did. But instead, you grabbed his face in your hands and pulled him towards you, your lips meeting in a kiss that felt like it could have powered an entire country’s electric grid.
He deepened it, and the two of you were nothing but tongues and teeth and lips — it wasn’t sexy. It was hungry. Starved, more like. Like he had been thinking about kissing you just as long as you had been thinking about him.
You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling his hips down towards your denim-covered core, down until you felt the hardness underneath his jeans pressed up against the spot where you needed him most, down until you couldn’t help but grind against it. He moaned as he kissed you, so you did it again. And again. And again. And —
“You need to stop that.” It wasn’t a suggestion. It was a command. You noticed that your arms were above your head, his hands pinning your wrists against the mattress. You don’t know when that happened, but you weren’t complaining. In fact, it spurred you on.
You smiled mischievously and rutted against him once more.
“What’re you gonna do about it, Winchester?”
He dropped his forehead to yours, steadying his breaths.
“I can fuck you like it’s your first time, or I can fuck you how I actually want to.”
“And how’s that?”
He took a shaky breath, like he was actually having a hard time controlling himself. You felt a sense of pride shoot through you at that.
“Like the fucking brat you are.”
You almost came from that alone.
Wanna know some common misconceptions about virgins? That they don’t have kinks. That they don’t watch porn. That they don’t have a plethora of sex toys in their nightstand. That they sit and crochet in their convent dorm room all day. Sure, you were years past the age when girls typically lose their virginity, but you were no saint. In fact, you enjoyed being quite the opposite. And you enjoyed being put in your place.
“Do your worst.”
It was like something in him snapped. His eyes were lust-blown and hungry and you didn’t miss the way his jaw ticked, and then he was undressing you so fast that you could’ve been part of a quick change act. He muttered something about a light system as he took off your clothes, and you nodded in a way that let him know that you already knew how all of that worked.
When you were down to just a black lace bra and panties, he paused as his fingers hooked under your waistband. He stared at you, his expression serious, and you knew that he was going to give you one more warning. One more opportunity to say, “Actually, I’d like to have a totally normal, non-kinky, first time experience, please.” But that wasn’t what you wanted.
“You sure you know what you’re asking for?”
You rolled your eyes. “I trust you. Put me in my goddamn place, Winchester. You’ve only been wanting to do it for the past two hours.”
“Oh, I’ve been waiting to do it for a lot longer than that, sweetheart.”
“Really?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh, yeah,” he replied, huffing a small laugh before pulling off your panties in one swift motion. His hands came to rest on your bare thighs as he locked his eyes with yours. “Any hard limits?”
You shook your head. “I trust you. I mean, like, don’t pee on me or —”
“Not gonna happen. But… most everything else?”
“Dean,” you began, looking at him pointedly, “I trust you. If it helps, I’ve used like, toys on myself before. And I don’t mean just a vibrator, I mean like… well, you get the gist.”
“So I don’t have to go easy on you, is what you’re saying?”
“Put me in my place,” you repeated.
“Alright,” he replied, his hands gripping the underside of your thighs as he roughly pushed them apart, “but just so we’re clear, that’s the last order you’ll be giving tonight.”
Your throat bobbed and you nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
You meant it as a joke, but it didn’t come out that way. No, the title came out in a way that made his jaw clench and his eyes darken and it stoked the fire raging in your core.
Dean didn’t waste any more time talking after that, his tongue moving through your folds seconds later, drawing gasps and soft moans from your lips. You arched into him, your hands in his hair, silently begging for more. It wasn’t the first time a man had gone down on you, but it was the first time it felt like this .
He pinned your hips down to the bed with one hand splayed over your abdomen and then his tongue was inside you and “eating you out” didn’t come close to describing his ministrations. He was devouring you like his life depended on it, like the sounds you were making were a goddamn Zeppelin song that he wasn’t anywhere near done listening to. And then he added a finger, and then another, and it didn’t matter how many times you had imagined him doing this while you had your own fingers inside you — nothing would have prepared you for how good the real thing felt.
“Oh — fuck,” you gasped, and he chuckled into your sex and you had to actively think about not coming on his face and ending this whole experience early.
“You’re close,” he observed, flicking his tongue over your clit as he continued to pump his fingers in and out, and it was so fucking hot how he just knew that. It was like he had been fucking you for years, the way he knew your body, your tells.
You nodded. “Mmhm,” you confirmed, unable to form words with the way the coil in your abdomen was tightening.
“Hold it,” he ordered.
Your eyes shot open, because it wasn’t the command you were expecting, and you tried to lift your head to shoot him a cold glare but you couldn’t. And he just kept pumping, flicking, licking, chuckling — fucking asshole.
“Mm — fuck — please!” you cried out.
“When you come tonight, it’s gonna be on my cock. So hold it.”
You didn’t think you could. You had played this game with yourself and your vibrator and your self-control was majorly lacking and God his mouth and fingers felt so fucking good and you were there, the coil wound so goddamn tight, it would take nothing for you to let it snap, and then —
He stopped.
He pulled his mouth away from your core, his fingers out of your pussy, and you were writhing underneath him, because you had been right there and you needed him to be touching you again right the fuck now.
You whined.
He spanked your pussy. Not hard or anything, just enough to see if it was okay with you, and fuck, was it.
“Stop whining,” he demanded. He positioned himself so he was hovering over you again, his face inches away from yours as he stared into your eyes. “Or I’ll give you something to whine about.”
You were curious as to what that something would be, but sensed that right now wouldn’t be the best time for that question. You nodded instead.
“Good girl.” He smiled when he said it, like he knew exactly what those two words would do to you.
You squirmed underneath him, it had been too long since he’d last touched you. Too long being thirty seconds at most, but still. It had felt like hours.
“Has anyone ever told you,” he began, dipping his head to place a soft kiss on your collarbone, “that you are very,” another kiss to the other side, “very,” one more to the middle of your chest, “impatient?” He slowly pulled down the left cup of your bra, your breast spilling out of it. “Makes me wanna take my time.”
His eyes stayed glued to yours as his head moved down to your hardened nipple, taking it into his mouth at a goddamn snail’s pace. You arched your back, and he let you this time, chuckling at how easy it was to make your body react. His other hand slipped underneath you, unclasping your bra in a way that reminded you that he had a lot of experience doing so, and you refused to water the seed of jealousy that had sprouted from the thought. It didn’t matter that he had done this a million times. All that mattered was that he was doing it now, with you.
He pulled your bra off and threw it haphazardly over his shoulder, and you were suddenly very aware of the fact that you were completely naked, and he still had 87 fucking layers on, the outermost of which was still speckled with dragon blood, and it’s not that you were anywhere near clean, but you certainly didn’t want those clothes touching your bare skin.
“Dean?” you rasped, and he pulled away from your nipple to give you his full attention.
“You okay, sweetheart? Do you want to st—”
“No! God, no. It’s just —” you sighed, exasperated. This was dumb. You were going to stop him for this? Your eyes landed on a spot of blood on the shoulder of his flannel. Yes, yes you were, because that’s gross. “It’s just that your clothes are covered in monster blood and I’m like, totally naked, and I don’t want —”
He chuckled like you were the most adorable thing he’d ever seen. “I gotchya, baby.”
Baby. Baby ? You tried not to overthink the pet name as he climbed off the bed to take his clothes off, watching you the entire time. Sweetheart, you’d been called a million times. He called everyone sweetheart. But baby? Baby was his car, and no one else. Unless, that’s what you were to him now. His, and no one else’s. You filed the thought away under “Things to Think About After You Lost Your Virginity to Dean Winchester”.
He was in nothing but his boxers now, his cock already hard underneath them, and you bit your lip as he hooked his thumbs under the waistband and slid them off. And then, there he was, exactly like you’d imagined him but also better, because this was real and happening. You gaped at him, at his size. He wasn’t any bigger than the fake one you had in your nightstand, but that one was nine inches and you could never fit it all the way in. He was perfect. All of him.
“You okay?” he asked again, crawling back onto the bed.
“Mhm,” you managed, gulping.
He was on top of you again, his forearm holding up his weight as his free hand came to grab your thigh, hooking it over his hip and leaning down to kiss you. You could feel him against your core, his cock moving between your folds as he moved his hips, teasing you with it.
“Dean,” you breathed.
“Hm?”
“I want…” you couldn’t find it in yourself to finish your request.
“I know, sweetheart,” he whispered.
You decided you liked “baby” better.
“Please.”
“I thought you wanted me to put you in your place?”
You shook your head. “N-next time. Just, please .”
His eyebrows shot up, and you realized what you had said.
“Next time, huh?” he asked, with that shit-eating grin of his.
You rolled your eyes. He stopped moving, the smile wiped off his lips as he gripped you underneath your chin, somewhere between rough and gentle, the look on his face telling you he wasn’t messing around.
“Roll your eyes at me again, and next time I’ll really do my worst.”
You bit back a smile, and you just knew he was thinking, Brat. But you asked your question anyway.
“But not this time?” There was a devilish gleam in your eyes. You were tempting him, and he knew it.
“Do you ever get tired of being such a brat?”
“Dunno,” you shrugged. “Do you ever get tired of it?”
His jaw tensed, and he forced a sardonic, closed-lip smile. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
“Hm. But not this time, right?”
“Y/N —” he warned.
“Afraid you’re gonna hurt me? Scare me? What’s really keeping you from putting me in my place… Sir?”
For the second time that night, something in him snapped. You yelped as he flipped you over and grabbed your hips, dragging them upwards so your ass was in the air and your chest was on the mattress. Four hits to your cheeks came down in quick succession, and when you reached your hand behind you to block them, it was quickly pinned to the small of your back. Three more hits followed, accompanied by a pathetic, “Ow!” from your lips.
“Color?” he questioned roughly.
“So fucking green,” you replied, dazed.
Seven more hits followed, each one harder than the last, and you didn’t think there was anything better than the sting you were feeling right now. There was nothing more you wanted than for him to mark you up like this.
“Fuck, you’re dripping,” he commented. Five more hits.
“Oh, fuck!” you cried out at the last hit, one that felt like it reverberated through your entire body. One that definitely left a handprint behind.
“Yeah, but you like it, don’t you?” It was a rhetorical question. He spanked you four more times. “You just wanted me to mark you up, is that it? Think of me every time you sit down for the next few days, hm?” Three more.
“Mmph!” Your cries were muffled by the comforter.
“Yeah, I can tell. Look at this fucking mess.” He dragged his fingers through your soaked folds. “Jesus Christ,” he said under his breath, and then he was flipping you back over. He nestled himself between your legs, his tip teasing your entrance. His expression softened as he stared into your eyes. “Are you sure?”
You nodded. “Yeah,” you replied breathily.
He slid into you slow and easy, your mouth open in a silent moan as he bottomed out.
“Good?” he asked.
“So fucking good.”
When he started to move, you thought you were going to die. In a good way. In a way that made you decide right there and then that when the time did come, this was how you wanted to go out.
“Harder,” you encouraged, and he obliged. “Faster.”
He was properly fucking you now. Hard and fast and dirty. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, your heels digging into his ass, forcing him to go deeper. His head was buried in your neck, your nails were clawing up his back, and the room was filled with moans and pants and expletives that put a sailor’s mouth to shame.
“Shit, baby,” he panted into your neck. “God damn, you feel good. So fucking tight.” He sped up his thrusts, and the bed was squeaking so much that you thought it was going to fall apart underneath you, but you were too far gone to care. He reached a hand down in between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit, circling it expertly. You were on the precipice of your release in seconds. And then —
“Come. Soak that fucking cock, baby. Come for me.”
And you screamed loud enough to get both you and him kicked out of the motel if they cared enough as your orgasm ripped through you. He fucked you through it, his pace only faltering moments later, right before he pulled out and painted your stomach white. It looked like a Jackson Pollock on your abdomen. Kinda hot, actually.
“You okay?” Dean asked, looking down at you as he finally caught his breath.
“More than,” you smiled.
He mirrored the look on your face before crawling off the bed and heading to the bathroom. He came back moments later with a damp washcloth, gently cleaning his masterpiece off of your skin. When he was done, he threw it across the room, aiming for the bathroom, and it landed on the tile in front of the toilet. He laid down next to you, pulling you into his chest as he pressed a soft kiss into your hair, and you wanted to ask so many questions, all at once. What were you two now? How long had he been wanting this? Would there be a next time? Instead, you opted for —
“You know in fanfictions, they write you as a submissive most of the time.”
He snorted. “They’re half right.”
“A switch?” you asked, surprised. “Lucky me.”
He chuckled softly. “Sorry about your ass.”
You shrugged. “I was asking for it.”
“Oh, you were definitely asking for it. Still, I… I dunno. It was your first time, I didn’t want to get too —”
“It was perfect, Dean.”
“Yeah?”
You nodded, smiling, dozing off already. “Yeah.”
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