#an internship but it feels weird to call it an internship. but that's what it is) and they were like come see us again from 4 to 5 later

[l1v1ngd3dgrrl]

For the Mouthwashing requests, how about Anya with an intern!Reader who slowly falls in love with her (and of course, she returns the sentiment)? Aboard the Tulpar if you're feeling angsty...headcanons or fic, your choice! Thank you ^^

AN: Thank you for the requestttt, and YESS ANGSTY I love sprinkling in angst. I'm gonna do some HC's, but in the future I may turn it into a oneshot. I hope you enjoy<3 I hope you don't mind me assigning the reader as Anya's intern! I left out what happens post crash because I didn't wanna be too angsty.

[also i was listening to Just like Heaven by the Cure..I think Anya would love them :)]

Anya x Intern! Reader Headcanons+ mini drabbles [sfw-ish]

mdni banner: cafekitsune

CW(S): Implications of sex, slight angst towards the end, mouthwashing spoilers, GN! reader/reader's gender is not mentioned, Possible age gap? I view Anya as a woman in her late 20's early 30's so depending on how old you are there's that.

So how does this happen?

Listen, you took this internship so you could get some credit for your University. The internship had nothing to do with your major what so ever but hey. Beggars can't be choosers?

You would be the Medical Intern, doing menial tasks and being educated on different first aide techniques by your mentor, Anya.

At first it was a pretty standard relationship, she was your mentor and you were her student. It wasn't all strictly business as the two of you got along fairly well outside of work stuff.

Around the 3 month mark of the haul you start to notice things about her that you hadn't before. Like how her hair was somehow always perfect as it fell over her shoulders, how her eye color was the most unique thing in the world, and how her lips were such a beautiful peachy brown color and how...soft they looked.

...uh oh.

Well....What are you gonna do about it?

At first you hold off on telling her, afraid of making things weird. What's another 8-ish months keeping your feelings a secret? easy peasy.

....at least you THINK it's gonna be easy. Your poker face isn't exactly the best.

Around month 5 is when she starts to really notice some big changes.

At first she gets worried thinking that you're going mental, nurses don't get their own evals. She questions you about it one day as the two of you are sitting in Medical, organizing some paperwork.

You try to deny that anything is wrong and that its simply nothing...which she essentially calls you out for because obviously lying and prods you again.

"So...Y/n, are you feeling alright?" You nod your head and try and hide your nervousness. "Y-yeah I'm great! uhm..why do you ask?" She stops filing papers and turns to you, eyes searching your form intently. "You've been a little off these last few months, Even if we don't get our own evaluations you know you can always talk to me." You bite the inside of your cheek and nod. Man you really needed to work on your poker face skills. "I'll keep that in mind th-thanks." you clear your throat and resume working. "But i'm fine though-just a bit uh, overwhelmed is all." "Y/n," she says sternly and you look up, deer in headlights. "Something is clearly bothering you, what is it?" her gaze is tender and full of concern. Those same gorgeous eyes flittering over your face. You gulp and open your mouth to speak but nothing comes out. Instead you just feel and overwhelming sense of dread. "I-I'm sorry I have to go."

Oh,what's this??

You panic and duck of medical and hide in your 'bedroom' for a bit.

After that you can't look her in the eye properly, maybe it'll affect your credit but at this point you don't care.

Unfortunately you can't avoid her for very long.

she finds you after dinner and holds you by the shoulder. Curly, or Jimmy hadn't pulled you aside to discuss your little stunt from earlier so she must not have reported it.

You couldn't tell if that was a good or bad thing...

"Y/n I really need to talk with you, okay?" She says. It was phrased as a question but you knew you couldn't just back out. "Alright." She leads you back to medical and both of you sit at her desk. She's in her usual chair, and you're in the chair that the 'patient' usually sits at. "I'm a little disappointed in what happened earlier," she begins "I'm not mad but I am a little bit hurt. Something is clearly troubling you and it's part of my job as your mentor and the nurse to make sure in good shape." You suck in a breath and nod. "I'm sorry." Your eyes are focused on your shoes, too ashamed to look her in the eyes. "Please tell me what's bothering you?" She asks and pulls your attention to her by cupping your chin. The action makes your heart skip a few beats, and your cheeks feel warmer. You meet her gaze and the feelings you had for months are threatening to spill out. "I," You swallow thickly and try and gather your wits. "I think I'm in love with you..I didn't want to say anything because we're co-workers." She pulls her hand away from your face, eyes fixated on you as you speak. "I was so nervous because I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. And I didn't want to get fired." Her lips curve into a smile after you finish talking, an action that makes you even more nervous. "Oh hun, that's what that was about?" You splutter and do a double take, the pet name was not helping you feel less anxious. "I've taken quite a liking to you too. All you had to to was be honest with me."

LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOOO

After that night you two begun a secret relationship, keeping things professional during the day and indulging each other at night.

It's been... so good so far! Obviously date nights are hard to do when you're stuck on a spaceship but you made it work. Even if that meant asking Curly for a special dinner under the guise that it was for the crew.

...That happiness was short lived though because the ship fucking crashed. What the hell man?

Even if things were looking bleak you were determined to remain positive for Anya.

"Do you think we're gonna make it?" You has asked her one night, Her undereyes had begun growing darker from all the stress, a sight that made your heart ache. "I hope so." was all she said. You didn't take her lack of words to heart. As the two of you sat in silence you inched your hand over hers and gave it a firm squeeze. "That's the most important thing," you said "to have hope." She hummed and leaned her head against your shoulder. "No matter what happens..I love you." You whisper, glancing over at her. She looks up at you with a weak smile. "I love you too y/n."

[maddy-ferguson]

i have a crush on someone i met a month and a half ago who i only saw for a week then that i'm seeing again for a week now and that i'm gonna see for four more weeks from now until june this is what life is all about

[rambling-at-midnight]

Don't Go Disappearing On Me Again

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Summary: Jason's lost too much to lose you, too. (We stan healthy communication in this house)

Word count: 2.3k

Ow.

You've never worked Friday nights before at the restaurant, and you never want to again. And you'd thought Saturday mornings were bad.

But one of your favorite coworkers had called you in a panic early this morning, begging you to take her shift, because her lab group's department at GCU was going out to bowling and it would be a great networking opportunity. You were the last person she called, but everyone else before you had declined because they were either scheduled or determined to avoid the shitshow.

And because you were weak, you gave in and said you would cover her Friday night shift as long as she covered your Friday morning shift.

So you two swapped shifts, and you went into your library internship in the morning instead of the evening. It wasn't a particularly hard job, but end-of-week returns had you dashing all over the three floors, so your feet already hurt before you walked into the restaurant.

Right before coming in, you'd texted Jason that you'd gotten held up, and it was a good thing you did, because you haven't had a single break to look at your phone the whole shift. He likely wasn't even awake yet—last night's patrol had been tough on the both of you, him because he came home half beaten to death, and you because you'd had a heart attack waking up in the middle of the night to your bloody boyfriend passing out on top of you in bed. But you usually got home around six from the library, and it was looking like you wouldn't be back until ten at the earliest, so you wanted to let him know. It was going on hour seven after starting at two p.m., when the restaurant switched from its brunch to dinner menu. Personally, you think two p.m. is obscenely early to eat dinner, but apparently rich people loved eating at weird hours, because you had had nonstop tables the entire night.

But the good thing is that the restaurant closes at nine, so you’re almost there. After your last three tables eat and leave, all you have to do is clean your section, close your checks, and clock out.

In the kitchen, you lean against the fridge, rubbing your hips and knees. You’re a little too young to feel so creaky after seven hours on your feet. After all, Jason works all night, doing athletic feats you could never dream of.

You can't really complain, though. You'd gotten lucky with your tables; they'd all tipped well. Maybe you could even add a little bit to your savings account instead of shoving every paycheck right at your student loans, which just keep growing, no matter how much you pay.

“Oh, no,” says Charlotte, one of the other veteran servers at the restaurant. She’s staring at the camera feed display, which is tuned to a livestream of the restaurant’s entranceway. “Don’t you dare seat me now, Ashley, I swear to God.”

“What time is it?” your head jerks up. “We’re about to close, right? Is someone looking for a table?”

“Yeah,” she says, pointing to the screen. “The hottest man in the world just walked in our front door.”

You just hum, not bothering to look in favor of pulling out your phone. You know for a fact that the hottest man in the world is actually at home in your bed right now. “The kitchen’s stopped receiving tickets. No way Ashley seats someone right now.” The screen doesn't light up when you click the power button. Well, shit. It's dead.

“I can’t tell what he’s saying.” Charlotte squints at the screen. “He’s, like, huge. Does Ashley look a little scared to you?”

You’re out of the kitchen without even looking at the screen. You speedmarch right past your tables, ignoring one man’s halfhearted attempts to flag you down for more ketchup. A righteous fire is boiling in your gut. You’ve been here long enough that the managers won’t fire you for telling off any customers that harass the younger workers that are more scared to stand up for yourself.

Your mouth is already open, ready to spew forth the beginning of your tirade, when you recognize the man in front of Ashley at the host stand.

Dressed in gray sweats and a dark T-shirt, slouching slightly, he looks even worse than when you kissed his forehead goodbye that morning. The bruise on Jason's face has properly colored now, purple and blue along his jawline. His hair looks a little flat, like he's been wearing his helmet, which is strange.

Jason's eyes snap onto you the second you appear, and you falter at the intensity there. Something has happened, but you're not sure what.

"Hey," you say, a little hesitant. "What's up?"

Ashley exhales with relief. "So you do know him."

"Yeah," you say without breaking eye contact with Jason, who's staring at you with the same expression you think a wolf would wear when stalking a hare. "He's my boyfriend."

You expect Jason to tell you that someone was in an accident. Someone's in the hospital. Something terrible happened to your apartment while you were gone.

He says none of those things. Instead, Jason says, "I didn't know you picked up a Friday shift."

Ashley's face goes blank.

"I told you I would be home late."

“No,” he corrects. “You texted me that you were being held up.”

“Yeah, at work.”

“And then you disappeared.” Jason’s jaw clenched. “Did you know that a bank was held up this afternoon? Your bank?”

“Oh, shit,” your hand flies up to cover your mouth. “My phone died, I don’t know when. You couldn’t check my location and see I was here?”

He just shakes his head, stiff and wordless.

“Hey, Y/N.” It’s your manager approaching the host stand now, customer service smile on and eyes taking in Jason’s appearance. “What’s going on up here?”

“Hey, Steve,” you say. “Sorry, this is my boyfriend Jason—Jay, this is my manager, Steve—”

Jason gets the hint and smiles close-lipped, reaching to shake Steve’s hand.

“My phone died so he came to see if I needed a ride home.”

“As soon as your tables leave and your section’s clean, you’re good to go. Oh, and you have to roll silverware.”

“It’ll be at least another hour,” you say apologetically to Jason.

“Okay.” His eyes keep boring into you like he’s trying to send you a telepathic message. He’s mad, you get it, but it makes you a little mad, too. You’re a grown adult. Yeah, the miscommunication was your fault, and it’s fine for him to be worried, but he looks close to Red Hood levels of anger, which is totally unwarranted for this situation. “Is it cool if I wait at the bar for you, then?”

“Of course!” Steve answers for you. "Our bartender, Lacy, will be happy to serve you while you wait." He checks his watch. "Until last call, that is."

"He didn't scare you, did he?" you ask Ashley as soon as Steve leaves. You smile at Jason, trying to tease him, but his expression doesn't twitch. "He looks mean, but I promise he's a big ol' softie."

Jason just grunts, but on his way to the bar, he doesn't forget to drop a kiss to your forehead. It warms you from the inside out.

As soon as he's gone, Ashley blurts out, "What happened to his face?"

"Motorcycle accident," you fib. "Oh, my table's calling me."

You rush over to take care of the poor man's ketchup—he's been waiting almost five whole minutes—and check out another party. The back of your neck prickles as you do. Every time you glance at the bar, Jason's green eyes are locked on your every move. It flusters you so much that when your table leaves, they say thanks, and you respond with, "Good morning!"

"What?"

"Thanks, you too!"

You run back to the kitchen, and everyone immediately starts interrogating you about your 'huge hunky boyfriend' (Charlotte's words, not yours).

By some miracle, all your tables clear out by closing time, and you’re out by 9:20. There are still a couple people at the bar, but Jason’s up immediately to walk out with you, leaving his water glass on the counter.

He doesn’t say anything, though you can feel his eyes on you whenever you aren’t looking. You won’t fight in public, so you follow his lead and stay quiet.

He drove your car to pick you up, and even though he’s obviously mad, he holds the passenger door open for you before getting into the driver’s seat.

The drive home is silent. He parks in the spot for your shared apartment, then immediately, quietly, asks, “Why’d you pick up a shift without telling me?”

"It was super last-minute," you say. He's still facing forward, so you do the same, eyeing his profile out of the corner of your eyes. "Like, it happened this morning. I thought you were sleeping, so I didn't want to blow up your phone with texts. I thought you'd just check my location and see where I was when you woke up."

Jason's hand clenches on the center console. "I woke up and I was terrified."

"I'm sorry—"

"And the bank, and your wording, and your phone was off—"

"I know," you say, putting your hand over his fist. He unclenches immediately to lace his fingers with yours. "I'll make sure I tell you next time."

Jason takes a deep breath in, then lets it out. In a rush, he finally turns to face you and says, "I don't mean to be controlling."

You blink. "I don't think you're being controlling."

"You don't?" Jason frowns. "Then why were you so mad when I walked into your work?"

"Mad? I'm not mad—you're mad at me."

"I'm not mad at you, what are you talking about?"

"You've been glaring this whole time! And you didn't say a word this entire car ride."

"Because I thought you were angry. I wanted to give you space."

"Okay, wait, wait, wait." You hold up a hand. "Let me get this straight. You're not mad at me?"

"No," he says earnestly. "I was worried and scared, but you're an adult. You don't have to ask for permission if you want to pick up a shift at work." He makes a face like the thought disgusts him.

"Okay," you say. "Okay, well if you're not mad at me, I'm not mad at you, either."

"Then why did you look so pissed when I walked in?"

You press your lips together to keep from smiling. "Well, we have cameras that show us up front while we're in the kitchen, right? One of my coworkers was watching and said 'the hottest man in the world' walked in and I didn't look because I thought the hottest guy in the world was still asleep in my bed—"

Jason covers his face with his hands. You can't stop your smile now, and you pull them away so you can look at said handsome face. "And I didn't even look because I'm such a loyal, awesome partner—"

"You are pretty awesome," he agrees, trying to sound serious, but he's grinning like an idiot, too. His cheeks are flushed pink.

"I know I am. But then Charlotte said that the hostess, Ashley, looked a little intimidated by him, so I walked out to see if she needed help."

"Aw," Jason says. He lowers his chin to look at you from underneath his lashes, pretty as a picture. "Were you going to give me a stern talking-to?"

"I can still give you one," you offer.

"Maybe later."

He's still grinning, and you're still grinning, so the both of you are grinning at each other like idiots in the car.

You want to kiss him, and he's your boyfriend. You're allowed to do that whenever the two of you want, so you take Jason by the chin and pull his mouth to yours.

Jason sighs against you, and it's like all the tension in his body melts away. One hand comes up to cradle your jaw, the other on the back of your head.

You break away to murmur, "Are you patrolling tonight?" He's still so beaten up.

"No," he whispers, voice low and gravelly in a way that has butterflies whipping around like a tornado in your stomach.

"Good. Wanna go up and be the hottest patient in the world while I look at your wounds?"

"Only if you're the hottest nurse in the world."

"Oh, but then who will be the hottest chef in the world who makes dinner?"

"The hot chef is on vacation right now," Jason joked. "But I can be a really hot food-orderer. What takeout are you in the mood for?"

"You're the injured one. What do you want?"

"I want whatever you want."

You narrow your eyes in a glare. "Well, I want whatever you want."

"You gotta make a decision," he says, already on his phone. "You're the hottest decision-maker in the world, I'm the hottest food-orderer."

"Chinese?"

"You got it."

Right before he dials the number, you grab him and kiss him again. When you pull back, he chases after your lips. It's so tempting that you give him another firm peck before you pat his chest once.

Jason blinks twice, looking dazed. "What was that for?"

You shrug. "I just wanted to kiss the hottest man in the world."

"Oh, my God." He groans and covers his face again, but you can see his red ears. "You're never gonna let that go?"

"Mmm." You pretend to consider it. "No."

DC taglist:

@evalynanne @mismatchsposts

Forever taglist:

@lemirabitur @annymcervantes @queenmissfit  @iksey @thehyperactiveteen @luxmoonlight @andreasworlsboring101

[mywritersmind]

TELL ME IF YOU HATE ME - KA12

summary : kimi has a crush and a shit way of dealing with it, you think he hates you.

listen up : not proof read lolz! requests are open!!

word count : 1683

⋆｡‧˚⋆

The cars zoom past me as I press my finger down and a series of clicks sounds from my camera. I smile, holding my camera up and making sure I got the shot I wanted.

I did.

I see a flash of red by the garage which makes me breathe out, Ollie just crashed and I know it freaked him out. I put my eye to my camera again, zooming in so I can see if he’s okay.

He is.

I snap some far photos of the garages, passing Ferrari, then McLaren, and right as I'm about to skip over Mercedes, something catches my eye.

Lewis isn’t the one who gets out of his car, but a smaller boy with a mess of brown curls. He claps one of the pit crew members on the back and smiles. As he turns to face the track, I get a full view of his face.

Kimi Antonelli.

I had forgotten about the boy who’s driving with Mercedes next year. Ollie was talking my ear off about it last week but still… I guess I was so focused on shooting the cars that I didn’t realize who was in it.

I snap a photo of him, the light hitting his face perfectly as he takes a deep breath.

I’ve never met him, but I was forced to follow Prema by Ollie so I know he fits into Ollie’s odd life perfectly.

I walk back into the ferrari garage, smiling at my boss who takes my camera from me. I’m doing an internship, specifically with Ferrari's media team. Once they found out I like photography, they let me have a camera and media access.

I smile at Ollie who shoots me a thumbs up, letting me know he’s okay. I end up eating alone while scrolling on my phone, some people walk past but because free practice 2 is happened, most people are watching.

I take a bite of my salad and scroll once more. I get a weird feeling after my third bite, and when I look up, it’s the last thing I expect.

Kimis there.

He’s still in his race suit, his hair messy and a water bottle in his hand. His eyes get big when I turn to him. I’m about to raise my hand to wave but he spins around and bolts in the other direction.

I laugh out loud but when I look around, no one’s there to have seen it.

That was… weird.

⋆༺

“Hey, Y/n!” Ollie yells to me across the paddock, he’s standing with Kimi and Jack Doohan. I smile and wave, saying goodbye to who I was speaking with, and flipping my hair over my shoulder before making my way over to them.

“Hey! Happy Quali day!” I smile at them, especially Jack because I haven’t seen him all weekend.

“What are you up to today?” The australian asks me, his hands in his pockets.

“Taking pictures mostly, trying to get a bad one of Charles, and watching Quali. How about you guys?” I turn pointedly towards Ollie and Kimi but the Italian has his eyes pointed elsewhere and his mouth shut.

“Kimi and I.” Ollie grips Kimis shoulder and practically forces him to look at me, he smiles softly but looks back at Ollie as he talks, “are doing the same! Minus the photos and stuff. Wanna grab lunch with us later?”

I nod, pulling out my phone as I get a call, “Shit, i’m so late! See you guys later!”

⋆༺

Quali is fun and the Mexican fans are absolutely exhilarating. After getting caught up with photos, I finally met Ollie and Kimi in the Ferrari hospitality.

Except there’s no Kimi.

I raise a brow as we sit down, “Does Kimi not like me?”

Ollie moves his food around, “Uh… I don’t think so. Why?”

I shrug, “I just get the feeling he doesn’t really enjoy my company. Which hasn’t been much around him.”

Ollie frowns, “No! He just had to shoot something for Mercedes. He wanted to come.”

⋆༺

You know those times where you wish you could go back in time just five seconds? That’s how I feel right now.

“No!” I yell as Kimi turns the corner with four coffees in his hands and runs directly into me. “Fuck!” I back away from him, shaking off my hands instantly.

“Ah!” He does the same, looking up at me slowly, “I am so sorry…” This is the first time he speaks to me? Seriously!?

I take a breath, trying to gain control of my mind that’s screaming. I peel off my sweater, luckily my shirt underneath is untouched.

“I- Shit.” I groan and wipe my arms off with my sweater, “What are you, an errand boy!? I thought I was the one with an internship.” He laughs at this, then slaps his hand over his mouth.

“I’m genuinely so sorry.” He shakes his head, everything on me now smelling like coffee. I look at his shirt which is partly splashed.

“It’s not fine but It wasn’t on purpose.” I shrug, just staring down at the coffee cups.

“I’m such an idiot.” He groans, “Look, I’ll buy you a coffee to make it up to you.”

I smile slightly, crossing my arms, “Coffee in Ferrari hospitality is free. I’m assuming it’s the same for Mercedes.” He shakes his head, looking horrified.

“That shit is gross. I know a place.”

The ‘Place’ in question is in the general admission area. He pulls on my ferrari hat for extra security and grabs our coffees quickly.

“I actually can’t believe you’re wearing red.” We walk the back way, laughing. Maybe he doesn’t hate me? Or maybe he does and the coffee was all apart of some scheme.

He side eyes me, “Neither can I.” He pulls it off of his head, “Toto would kill me.”

Ollie finds us the second we step foot in the paddock, “Hey! Don’t tell me you became friends without me! Do not forget that I started this!”

“Yeah ok, Ol- I’ll give you friendship creds.” I pat his shoulder as he frowns.

⋆༺

It’s dark by the time I head out of the paddock, yawning, I notice Kimi on his phone. “Hey!” I say, smiling as he looks up at me.

Except his face does that weird thing again.

His cheeks go red and he looks like he’s forcing a smile. “Hi.” He says softly.

“Good day?” He nods, looking back at his phone and clearing his throat.

“Yeah.” He keeps it quick before walking away, “Bye.”

“Bye…?” Okay. So I don’t think I'm going crazy now because that was one weird ass conversation. If you can even call it that.

⋆༺

I wake up on race day and do my morning ritual, scrolling on instagram. I don’t go through all of my notifications often, but today something caught my eye.

Liked by Kimi Antonelli

The post is laughable, it’s from two years ago, Ollie and I were celebrating our birthdays since they fall on the same day.

Weird, Again.

I get ready and head out even though that stupid like is on my mind the whole time.

As if the universe is sending a message, I walk into the paddock at the same time as Kimi. He’s talking to his team member in fast italian and I ignore the fact that it’s 100% hot and focus on the fact that he 100% ignored me!

I call Ollie immediately, “Your friend hates me.”

I hear him laugh on the other side of the phone, “Kimi?”

“See! You already know who I'm talking about!” I groan as I enter Ferrari hospitality.

“Y/n. I think you just make him nervous.”

I stop dead in my tracks, “What?”

“Look, I absolutely love you. But you have a total resting bitch face!” I scoff at him even though I know it’s true, “He sees you taking photos a lot and even though I try to get him to talk to you, he’s like scared or some shit. I think he thinks you’re pretty too.”

I hang up.

⋆༺

I watch from the garage, spirits are high but I find myself distracted as Kimis face comes up on the screen.

Why is he so cute?

I bite my lip and think. I want him to like me. I want him to be friends with me like how he is with Ollie! So why can’t he see that? I mean, there’s a possibility he just doesn’t like me.

In that case, that’s fine! I just want to know.

My thoughts are how I find myself cornering him with my arms crossed and my actual bitch face on.

“Um… yes?” He looks scared.

“Do you not like me, or something?” He frowns, “I mean- If you don’t, that’s fine! But I don’t fuck with people who aren’t honest. Because I know i’m not completely likable to everyone and genuinely I don’t care if you don’t like me but I sorta hope you do because Ollie is my friend and Ollie is your friend and he wants us to be friends!” I take a breath.

Kimi just blinks, “I do like you.”

I roll my eyes.

“I just… felt embarrassed.” I raise a brow. Embarrassed? “I dumped coffee on you! And then I liked that post which had Ollie telling me to stop screaming into my pillow.” I laugh at that. “I just… I'm not good with pretty girls.”

That has me frozen.

“And you’re like scary pretty.”

I laugh, smiling, “You’re totally boosting my ego right now.” He just called me pretty.

He rolls his eyes, standing up straighter, “I’m sorry for being awkward.”

I sigh dramatically, “It’s fine.” I flip my hair over my shoulder, smirking, “My good looks just stuns people sometimes-”

He pushes my shoulder, “Oh fuck off!” I laugh with him, his cheeks red again, “Can I make it up to you?”

I bite my lip, hiding my smile, “Pick me up at 8.”

[babywriter]

Yeah, graduating from college felt pretty good. And, hey, you were leaving without debt! Actually, soon enough, you’ll have enough to buy a house. A little help from the parents here, a little scholarship there, a little paid internship here. I mean, things were really good. The only real downer here was your love life. Or social life even. It went real south, real fast. First thing was when you broke up with your boyfriend. It just…wasn’t working out. But then, one of your best friend, Eric, seeing as you were now single, decided to spill his feelings for you. Bad call on his part, you two stopped talking.

It’d been almost two years since you’d seen Eric, but then you got a text from him out of the blue. Strangely enough, his profile picture was that of a girl and his name was…Erica? You thought Eric was this straight cis dude, turns out he wasn’t! While you did miss Eric, you weren’t sure you would’ve answered a text from him. Erica on the other hand? You had hope that she was completely over you.

“Come in, come in.” said Erica’s mother. “She’s in the living room.”

You had been briefed that she was regressed. But still. This was a lot to take in. She was so pretty! And so cute! An absolute doll. But seeing a twenty-two-year-old woman dressed like that felt pretty weird. Pigtails, pacifier…a toy in her hand and a frilly dress on her. She looked so sweet, though. Then, you saw that huge bulking diaper.

When you talked to Erica, it felt like talking to your old friend, but a childish and feminine version of that old friend. A side you hadn’t really seen. She’d been regressed for a while now and, as it turns out, was into men! You did feel a bit giddy about that news. She wasn’t going to be into you anymore! Not only that, but it seemed you’d just made a girlfriend. Erica was easy to talk to and you were both so open to each other and you got to gush about your love troubles with the guys you were seeing recently and Erica got to daydream about wanting a big strong daddy to pick her up.

After a few hours, Erica’s diaper was soaked and needed changing. This was your signal that it was time to leave. But you couldn’t help yourself and offered to adopt Erica or at the very least babysit her. To have a babygirl like that would be so, so much fun, you thought.

When leaving Erica’s house, you daydreamed of a life with a boyfriend and your babygirl. Able to live your fantasy of a family life while giving your babygirl the mommy and daddy she wants. You could take her to the park, change her diapers, breastfeed her. All the mommy things! Your boyfriend wouldn’t be threatened after all Erica was a girl in diapers, a baby! And Erica wouldn’t mind one bit you’d have a boyfriend to have sexy time and go on dates with. I mean, what a life!

Photo credit: adultbabysource.com

For more stories by me: https://reamstories.com/babywriter

[am-i-interrupting]

Across the River | Viktor x Jinx’s Older Sibling

Chapter 4 | Sleepy Studies

Summary: After the explosion and disappearance of Vi, you take your little sister across the river to Piltover. You struggle to keep the two of you afloat but manage to get Jinx to the academy. This is where she procures an internship that changes your lives.

“What is your sister like?” Viktor asked during one late night.

“Why?”

“Simply curious. I was an only child.”

“Okay,” Jinx said slowly, looking Viktor up and down. “Well, they’re like. . . Geez, I don’t know. I mean, when I was little I spent waaay more time with them than with V— We’ve always been close. I don’t really know how to describe it.”

Viktor noticed her cut off and raised an eyebrow but otherwise didn’t question.

He tapped something Jinx wrote twice. She looked down and her lips curled up. She wiggled her pencil in her hand for a moment before she flipped it and erased what she’d written, replacing it with something else.

“Perhaps phrasing it differently will help? What is it like having siblings?” the question phrased plural on purpose.

Jinx shrugged. “I mean, you’ve got someone to look up to, I guess. Someone who’s your friend and your bully all wrapped up into one present and shoved in your hands but the wrapping paper is kind of wet which is weird because that’s not how presents are supposed to be, right? It’s kind of off putting because it’s kind of gross. Then you open it up and look at the box and the box is weird too. It’s like purple instead of brown. And then when you finally open the box, it’s like all your insecurities are there in the shadows and then you put it in the light and boom! Unconditional love that you definitely don’t deserve but it’s hidden because of insults and petty drama.”

A pause.

Viktor blinked once, twice.

Jinx looked him up and down.

“Does that make sense?”

“None at all.”

“Oh.”

She was quiet for a moment. She looked off into the space before her. Unmoving, slightly unnerving.

She sniffed. She shrugged. She bounced back, leaning into his personal space. “Welp! That’s the best I got.”

Viktor shook his head with a bemused slight quirk to his lips. “Alright, so,” he began, pointing at some of the runes.

The rest of the night passed by until it was closer to early morning. Viktor stretched his arms out behind his back. Jinx was standing, leaning her back against the table, bending backwards. She’d taken out her pins that held her bun in place and long braids pooled on the table, one even hanging off.

“Do you think that trees cry when they’re cut down?” Jinx asked. “That they know they’re going to die?”

“And I will take that as our sign to call it,” Viktor said.

Jinx gave an over exaggerated groan in reply but Viktor could tell by the way she was twirling the end of one of her braids and occasionally hitting her face with it, she was feeling the pull of sleep begin to tug.

She tilted her hips towards the table and moved her leg. In one fluid motion she was upright. Then she almost fell. Quickly she righted herself and shot Viktor a giant smile.

Viktor grabbed his crutch. He situated it beneath his arm and curled his fingers around the handle.

Jinx let her body weight all go to one foot as she kept the door open. The only thing which prevented her from falling was her hold on the doorknob.

When he walked through, she followed him.

“Ow! Shit!” she yelled.

Viktor’s head whipped back and her braid had gotten caught between the doors. She jerked the door open and yanked her braid out of the way. It hit his leg and the door closed.

“I see why you keep your hair up,” Viktor said.

Jinx scoffed and rolled her eyes. “I like my braids being down, even when they do get caught on things.”

“May I ask why that is?”

“Because, they keep me grounded. Without their weight I feel like my head is floating away from me,” she said.

“Then why don’t you wear them down?” he questioned.

“Stupid Upper City people,” she muttered under her breath. “They think it’s ‘unhygienic’ because they drag on the floor. Yeah, they do and guess what! I clean them every day. They don’t even drag on the floor unless I’m hunched over.”

“I didn’t think you the type to let others people’s opinions bother you,” Viktor told her.

“I don’t! Normally. It’s just doing all these things and following all these stupid fucking rules is how I got here,” she said with a pointed gesture at the academy floors. “I can’t lose that now. Sis worked too hard to get me here.”

Viktor could empathize with the struggle. Being not only from the Undercity but also disabled prevented an entire load of problems up here. He’d take them though, over the polluted air. At least here he could breathe.

Viktor held the door open for Jinx. He waited until she was a decent bit away before letting the door fall closed.

“Let me haul you a taxi,” Viktor said, worried for the girl in her tired state.

She shrugged but didn’t fight him.

They sat in the backseat of the taxi. Jinx’s braids pooled in the floor.

She scooted closer to him. She slowly pushed her hand between his arm and torso until he tentatively let her wrap their arms together. Her head immediately plopped down on his shoulder. He tensed.

“I don’t even get to do my building anymore up here,” she said as she nuzzled her face against his shoulder.

“Building?” he asked as he forced his body to relax.

“Yeah, before we came up here, I used to build all sorts of gadgets. I mean, I still do but I can’t do it as often. I can’t even find a place to test my bombs and since the Industrialist took over the Undercity, we don’t go down there much. Just on special occasions.”

“You build bombs?”

Jinx laughed a bit. “Yeah.” She closed her eyes and sank against him. “Smoke bombs—“ internally he sighed in relief— “real bombs, guns.”

“Huh,” was all he could say.

The rest of the ride was relatively silent. That is until Jinx started snoring and some drool seeped through his shirt. He didn’t make any attempt to move her though.

The automobile came to a halt. With a quick word to the driver and careful movement, he slipped out. He walked into the apartment building and knocked the door labeled 07.

A couple long moments passed. He raised his hand to knock again as it but it jerked open.

“The fuck do you want at one in the— Oh, it’s you. Hi,” you said as you processed who exactly stood in front of you.

Viktor felt his stomach do the smallest twist. Your hair was a mess. Your shorts were hanging off one hip and up too high on the other. A strap of the tank top you wore was twisted.

“Jinx is asleep in a taxi. I would bring her in myself but ah,” he gestured with his crutch.

“Oh, yeah,” you said as you walked out of the threshold of the apartment. “She sleeps like the dead.”

You yawned as you walked with him to the taxi.

Jinx’s head was lulled forward. Her chin touched her clavicle but still she snored on.

You crawled a bit into the automobile and put your hands beneath her legs and her back. You pulled her closer to you until you could heave her up in your arms. Her head bobbled and smacked you in the chin. She just groaned and used her hand to push your face away.

“Ow,” you said in a monotoned voice. “Anyway, thanks for getting her home.”

“Of course, it was my pleasure. Do you need me to open the door for you?”

“Yeah, that’d be great.”

Inside you put Jinx to bed. You slipped off her shoes, pulled her vest down her arms, undid her belt. You undid the buttons of her shirt and slid on an oversized one before slipping off her button up and pulling off her pants.

She pulled the blanket around her and face planted in her pillow.

“Thanks, sis,” she mumbled, half asleep.

“Yeah, yeah,” you said.

Still, you moved her face so she wouldn’t suffocate on her pillow and brushed her bangs out of her face. You placed a kiss right above her brow.

Then you grabbed your own covers to wrap yourself in and laid back on the couch where you’d been, wondering why you felt all warm inside by the man who kept caring for your sister with you.

[n0vazsq]

Found the way | PA17 x Reader

pairing . . . soulmate!paul aron x soulmate!mixed!race!reader

summary . . . Meeting your soulmate after talking telepathically for years certainly was something.... especially when he's a race driver and you're an intern working in the same place

request . . . yes!! based on this request!

word count . . . 1.4k+

warnings . . . none! just a note that i'm going to refer to paul by his name, but reader doesn't know what his name is until they met!! conversations in their mind are in italic!

faceclaim . . . N/A

alexavia yaps . . . wow. this was something to write.

taglist . . . @barcapix ,, @f1lover55 ,, @ilovebarcaaa (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

. . . For as long as you could remember, you and Paul had been connected. It wasn’t something you had asked for, but it felt like it was always meant to be. Every day, you heard his voice in your head, clear as day.

The first time it happened, you had been terrified. You were alone, walking home from school, and suddenly, you heard a voice in your mind.

"Hey, are you okay?"

You had frozen in place, looking around, trying to figure out who had spoken to you, but no one was there. It took weeks before you realized that the voice in your head wasn’t a hallucination or some kind of weird glitch in the world.

It was Paul.

He explained to you that he had the same ability, and he was just as confused as you were. The two of you quickly learned that you could only communicate telepathically, no spoken words, no physical contact, just thoughts exchanged in the quiet spaces of your minds.

And so, over time, you both built a connection. You got to know each other in the most intimate, invisible way. You shared everything. The good, the bad, the joys, and the fears, without the hidden stuff that often came with speaking out loud.

You’d both learned to help each other when things felt overwhelming, offering support when life was too hard to navigate alone. But there was always this unspoken rule; you couldn’t tell each other your names.

At first, it didn’t matter. You both laughed about it, making jokes and creating silly aliases. You had ended up calling him Blondie because of the way he described his hair; golden in every way, from the light shine to the warmth it seemed to radiate.

He’d called you Curls, a teasing nickname for your wild, curly hair. It became your thing.

He was Blondie, and you were Curls, and for some reason, it was perfect.

But that didn’t mean you weren’t both curious. You wanted to know more about him. You wanted to meet him, see what he looked like, hold him close when he had a hard day. But there was always that one, simple rule; no names.

And yet, after years of talking like this, you both had grown closer than anyone else in your life. You had supported each other through heart ache, listened to each other’s frustrations, and celebrated each other’s victories. You couldn’t wait to finally meet in person.

"I’m counting down the days, Curls. I just know you’ll be even more beautiful than I imagined." Paul’s voice echoed in your mind one night, his thoughts filled with affection.

"I can’t wait either, Blondie. I swear, I’ve been dreaming about it." You closed your eyes, smiling, already imagining the moment when you could finally hold him, feel his warmth. "It’s all I think about."

The world outside of your telepathic connection seemed so small. Conversations with friends and family felt distant, almost irrelevant. All that mattered was you and Blondie. But you couldn’t help the anxiety that gnawed at you, what if he didn’t like you in person? What if it was awkward?

"Do you think it’ll be weird when we finally meet?" You asked, the uncertainty creeping into your thoughts.

"No." Paul’s response was immediate, confident. "I’ve been talking to you for years, Curls. It’s going to be perfect."

You had talked to him about your job internship, how you were working behind the scenes in the paddock for a Formula 1 team, assisting with everything from logistics to preparation, and experience to complement your course in motorsport management.

You’d mentioned how exciting, yet nerve wracking, it was to finally get the opportunity to be in such a fast paced environment, learning from professionals in the industry. You’d also shared how there was a possibility, just a small one, that you and he could meet face to face for the first time during the race weekend, though you hadn’t expected it to happen so soon or so unexpectedly.

And now, here you were, standing in the bustling paddock of a Formula 1 race, running around trying to do your job done amidst all the excitement. You were barely keeping your focus, distracted by the knowledge that you were just a few meters away from meeting him, your soulmate, the person who had been in your head for years. You couldn’t help but wonder if he felt as nervous as you did.

It wasn’t supposed to happen this way.

You were walking with a team member down the crowded pit lane, carrying a stack of equipment for a quick setup. As you navigated the sea of people, your foot caught on the edge of a toolbox, sending you tumbling forward.

You braced for impact, but before you could hit the ground, a pair of arms shot out, catching you in mid fall.

"Fuck, I'm sorry, I wasn't looking where I was go-"

Your heart skipped a beat as you collided with his chest, the impact leaving you breathless. You instinctively looked up into his eyes and froze.

There was something… something so strangely familiar about this person. His bright blue eyes locked onto yours, and everything else seemed to fade away. It was as if you had always known this person, and the realization hit you like a wave.

This was him.

"Curls?" His voice was low, hesitant, but somehow it sounded exactly the same as it did in your mind. You felt a jolt of recognition.

"Blondie?" you replied, nearly breathless. You weren’t sure if you’d said it out loud or thought it, but the words came so naturally.

His eyes widened in disbelief. "You-how-how are you here?" He looked around, clearly trying to piece together the situation.

You smiled, heart pounding in your chest. "The internship."

For a moment, neither of you knew what to say. The shock and joy of the moment hung between you like a heavy blanket, but the connection you felt in your chest was undeniable.

You had been waiting for this day for years, and now that it had finally arrived, you were left speechless.

He held you at arm's length, still unsure, his fingers lightly brushing your arms as though confirming you weren’t just a figment of his imagination. "I-I didn’t expect… This wasn’t how I thought it would happen. I thought we’d… I don’t know… meet some other way."

You laughed, a sound that felt more freeing than anything you had ever experienced. "I didn’t expect it either. But here we are."

"Yeah," he said, grinning now. "Here we are."

And just like that, you both stood there, in the midst of the busy paddock, overwhelmed by the realization that everything you had shared in your minds for years was now physical, real, and right in front of you.

"What's your name, then? Mine is Paul."

You told him your name, smiling when he repeated it, as if testing the way it felt on his tongue.

Paul’s gaze softened as he stared at you, the same intensity and adoration you had always felt from him radiating in his eyes. "I’ve waited for this moment for so long. It feels… unreal."

You reached for his hand, your heart fluttering as your fingers brushed his. The sensation was electric, like every piece of you had clicked into place. "Me too," you whispered. "I’ve always known it was you, but now I can see you, and it’s more than I ever imagined."

He smiled, a tender, almost shy expression that made your heart swell. "So, you’re actually here… and I’m not dreaming?"

"I’m here, Blondie, or Paul," you reassured him softly. "And I’m never going anywhere else."

And then, without thinking, you both moved closer. You didn’t need words to tell him how much this moment meant.

You simply leaned in, your lips meeting his in a kiss that felt like the peak of everything you had been waiting for. Soft at first, but as if everything else in the world had faded, you deepened it, feeling a connection so deep it was almost overwhelming.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, Paul rested his forehead against yours, his grip on your hands tight. "I can’t believe it. You’re here. We’re here."

You smiled, the weight of the years of waiting slowly lifting off your shoulders. "We’re here," you agreed, "and I’ll never leave."

He kissed you again, this time more passionately, as if he never wanted to let you go. And in that moment, you knew, more than ever, that no matter the distance, no matter the years, the connection you had was real.

You had finally found your way to each other.

[xxblairexxss]

Who are you?

Pairing : Charles Leclerc x reader

Theme : Fluff, I think?

Word count : 2.4k

Requested!

Part 2 Part 3

You got into an accident on your way to work with a guy who drove Ferrari Pista 488 with the number 16. Weird thing was that everyone kept calling his name as if he was a celebrity.

Just a light one. Haven’t proofread!

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

"The audacity of him! And then what did you say?"

Your mom thought your decision to accept an internship in Monaco out of all countries was solely because you could talk to your best friend, Linda, without having a problem with the time difference. It just happened to be on your side, though. Instead of listening to her story about her stupid ex before you went to bed, you had to get ready, so she had become your favourite podcast to listen to on your way to work.

"I said nothing." She winced, even before you screamed.

"What?! You let him disrespected you like that! Oh my God! Why?! I would have punched —“ The sound of a car horn kicked through your AirPods, taking over the voice of your friend. There wasn’t enough time for you to react when the black car came approaching so fast, cringing along the sound of a car honk that seemed to be echoing within the small town that you would have thought it would send you straight to heaven. It turned out your mind wasn’t ready for today to be your last day on earth, so you tried to run across the road and fell flat against the friction.

You were expecting to wake up surrounded by clouds, just like how the cartoons pictured the afterlife, until you felt a touch on your shoulder. "Fuck! I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Are you—"

"I would have punched you in the face." You muttered, what was supposed to be something directed towards Linda’s ex boyfriend.

"Woah, okay. I’m really sorry. Here," He offered a hand and pulled you up; that was when the pain hit your nerves, making you bend over and wince. 

"Ow! What is wrong with you?!" The man was pushed away and staggered at the outburst. "It was a red light. Are you blind?"

"Okay, I’m really sorry; that was totally my fault. Let me take you to the hospital."

You retracted your arm from his hand relentlessly, limping your way to the roadside. "Leave me alone."

"You are bleeding!" He argued and tried to offer his hand for you to hold as he was you struggled to walk.

"I know! I have eyes."

"You need to treat those cuts. Just let me take you to the hospital."

You tried to hobble away from the man, but the pain had set a limit to your pace. "I don’t even know you. Go away."

"Okay, my name is—" 

"Charles! Everything good?" He looked up, surprised to hear his name being called out so sudden, and gave a thumbs up back to the waiter of the restaurant.

"You heard him. I’m Charles. You have a witness there," You looked back at the direction he pointed with his chin. “if I do something bad to you. Can you get in my car so I can take you to the hospital now? I’m kinda in a rush."

"If you are rushing, then you can just go. Don’t let me hold you up." Charles shut his eyes, tilting his head back. He knew he had misspoken because you were going to say yes before he mentioned about time. "Okay, okay! I’m not. I’m not in a rush at all. So, please, get in the car."

"Are you sure? Cause I can just —“

"No. I mean, yes. I’m very sure." He extended his hand, which you finally held while you limped your way to the car.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

This was your second tissue, which you had been pressing on your cuts. You just found out your chin was bleeding as well when you saw the reflection on his window.

"Do you need water?" He twisted open the mineral water bottle and offered it to you. You were so quiet, it made him feel restless. He would rather hear you curse him out than this eerily silent. "The hospital is 5 minutes away. Does it hurt a lot?"

"It’s not that serious. Don’t worry." You turned from looking out the window, eyes scanning through the buildings of the city, towards him, frowning in suspicion. "How did he know you? The waiter."

"He has seen me a lot. It’s a small town, after all. Are you a student?" He saw you were carrying a bag of laptop with a few files, which he had placed at the back of the car, so you were obviously not a tourist. It left him with two answers. Either you were a student or you just moved here, because if you had been living here for a while, you wouldn’t ask the question. He wasn’t saying everyone would know him, but they would at least aware of who he was.

"No, I’m doing my internship."

"How long has it been?" He queried.

"2 weeks, I think." You looked out the window as he drove into the hospital area. "You can just drop me here. I’ll be fine."

"No, it’s okay. You need help from a local, so that would be me. Can you walk?" His seatbelt retracted as he clicked on the unhook button and helped you register your name and details at the registration counter while you were asked to just sit and wait.

"Hi, Charles!"

"Oh my God! It’s Charles!"

"Are you Charles Leclerc? What are you doing here?"

It felt like you must have had a permanent wrinkles in between your brows, as you had been frowning for minutes whenever people called out his name. Sure, it was a small town, but did that mean everyone knew everyone to this point?

"Are they your friends?" He leaned in, moving his ear closer to hear your question.

"No, they are not my friends. They have seen me a lot too." The way he replied was so nonchalant, but it still didn’t make any sense to you.

"That doesn’t really make any sense." You commented, still frowning.

"It makes sense in Monaco." He looked away and bit his lips, trying to hold his chuckle.

The medical staff explained to you every cream and medicine you needed to take and when it was needed, while Charles joined in as well, listening as if it had anything to do with him.

"Can we get your phone number so we can call for a follow-up treatment on your sprained wrist?"

"Oh, my Monaco phone number? Give me a second." You just happened to find out that your phone was badly damaged in the accident right when you tried to turn it on. It probably had to do with you trying to stop your fall without realising it was in your hand, so the screen was cracked and it was just a black screen. You were forgetful and had written your new phone number in your notes so you wouldn’t get charged for accepting calls from a foreign country, but it was impossible to check your notes if your phone couldn’t even turn on.

"Use mine. If anything, just call me." Charles stepped in and wrote down his phone number, leaving you stunned. "And here’s my card. I’ll pay for everything."

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

"Thank you for sending me home. Oh, my phone!" He had helped you bring your stuff all the way to your apartment, though you had assured him that you could carry your own things. Just when you were about to take the last thing of yours in his possession, he moved his hand away before you could take it. "I need my phone back?"

"It doesn’t even work."

"Okay? But that doesn’t mean I’m going to throw it away." Charles brought the phone higher when you tried to snatch it, smiling like an idiot when he saw you were glaring at him.

"I’ll get it fixed and give it back to you."

"I don’t need your help anymore. Give it back! I’ll get it fixed myself." You disagreed, refusing to owe him even more, but he stepped back and slipped the phone into his back pocket.

"You still need me for your follow-up treatment. You used my phone number, remember? I’ll see you in a few days once it’s fixed. Don’t forget to put the cream and your medicine." He walked away after giving you a nod out of curtesy.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

"Was he hot?"

Though your phone was broken, you still wouldn’t miss a daily update from your best friends. After explaining everything, including every single detail of what happened earlier, Linda’s main focus was to ask that. Not your sprained wrist, not your cuts—nothing about you, but all about the man you had told her about.

You rolled your eyes and continued to spread the cream on the cut on your leg, still engaging in the conversation from the video call on your Macbook. "He was cute. You know, apparently everyone here knows everyone. Crazy, isn’t it? Everyone kept on calling his name ‘Charles! Charles!’ as if he were some kind of celebrity, but it was actually very common. I was shook because—"

"Wait, what did you say?" She intervened.

"I said I was shook."

"No, before that. What was his name?" Linda asked, seemingly typing something on her laptop.

"Charles? Charles Lec something?"

"Oh my God! Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!" She shrieked, making you jump and scream along.

"What the heck?" You bawled as she started talking nonsense. "Slow down! What are you trying to say?"

"Is this the guy that helped you?" She brought the phone and switched to the back camera so you could see the picture on her laptop.

"Yeah? Why is his face everywhere in the Google images?" That was weird. Though you were treated like a celebrity in Monaco, why would you put out your pictures on the Internet in public, with not just one but more than what seemed to be normal for someone who just lived in Monaco?

"He’s a fucking F1 driver, you idiot! Oh my God, you are so dumb, Y/N!" Linda called out, feeling frustrated for her friend, who had to be the smartest in class but not street-smart.

"What?! But he told me that everyone knew him because they just saw him a lot." You argued back and tried to make it make sense to your friend, who seemed to be so disappointed.

"Yeah? Because he’s driving for Ferrari and he’s a Monegasque? Obviously, everyone has seen him a lot. You are so dumb."

"2 weeks in this new country, and I have already humiliated myself. I’m just going to ask him to leave my phone in front of the door so I don’t have to see him again, right?" You don’t think you could look at him in the eye anymore because you were so embarrassed that you might need 2 to 3 months to move on.

"I don’t know. To me, it sounds like he wanted to get to know you."

"Cut the crap, Linda."

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

"I can’t just leave your phone out here." Charles came and rang your doorbell a few days later. You had been yelling behind the door, trying to make him go so you wouldn’t have to see him again, but he just wouldn’t let it pass.

"Just leave it there!" You replied back the other side of the wood door.

"Are you hurt?" He replied back, knocking on your door this time.

"No!"

"Okay, then why can’t you come out?" Charles could have just done what you asked him to do, but he wanted to see how your cuts were doing, if they were still bleeding.

And he also wanted to see you because he just felt so.

"Fine, I’m leaving it here. Make sure to not leave it outside for too long. Someone might steal it away." He remarked before walking away, knowing you had been peeking from the peep hole.

"Finally!" The door pulled open after you waited for two minutes, giving him enough time to take the elevator and left.

Until you saw him leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. He had this smirk on his face, as if he expected you to be dumb enough and fell in his trick, which you actually did.

"Finally what?" He strode closer, arms still crossed, as he looked down on your legs to see the cut had started to heal. "Hm?" Charles carefully tilted your face up to see your chin and nodded when it wasn’t as red and bleeding as it was a few days ago. "Did I do something wrong? Why can’t you just come out?"

You grinned and walked back into your apartment, pushing the door shut with your body. "Okay, you can go home now. I’ll call the hospital to ask them to change the phone number back to mine. Thank you!”

"Wait! Why are you acting so weird?" He blocked the door and tilted his head, trying to catch your eyes because you had been looking everywhere but at him.

"Why didn’t you tell me who you are? Here I thought everyone in Monaco would call out people’s names as if they were celebrities, and you actually turned out to be one?" Your tone went higher while you pointed your hand at him, as if he were an artefact in a museum and you were a museum guide.

"I’m not exactly a celebrity. Just an athlete. How did you know?" He asked in a very light way, like this whole situation was fun for him.

"My friend showed me your picture, and I still didn’t trust her, so I went on Google myself and typed…" You pressed your lips, squeezing your eyes shut, because you knew you were just going to humiliate yourself even more if he found out about this.

"And typed in what?" Charles repeated your last sentence.

"Charles Monaco." Your hand covered your eyes instantly while he burst out laughing. He would have left with a bruised nose if only you could slam the door in his face right now, but you wouldn’t want to be charge with assaulting the famous guy in this town. "Yeah, whatever. Can you step back because I’m trying to close the door?"

"So, that’s it?" I nearly hit you with my car, sent you to the hospital, fixed your phone, and that’s it?"

You furrowed your brows. "What else do you want?"

"How about I give you a tour around the town? I’ve lived here all my life. No one knows every corner of this town except me." He rested his hand on the door when he saw you try to close it again. "Are you sure you want to miss this one chance to be with Charles Monaco?"

"You are so annoying!"

“Your next appointment is in two days. I’ll pick you up at 10 a.m." He walked away, still wearing the cocky smile that made you want to punch him so bad.

"I can go on my own. I’m not going to open the door for you next time!" You stood outside the hallway, shouting back as he went even further.

"Then I’m gonna barge into your apartment. I’m Charles Monaco; I can do whatever I want."

✧.* general tag list! @i83andrew @cltrlne @karmabyfernando @ohthemisssery @ru-kru @tastebaldwin @f1obessed @love4lando @shinrjj @ietss @leclerc13 @darleneslane @buckybarnessweetheart @xcinnamongirl @boiohboii @formula1mount @judespoision @alwaysclassyeagle @scenesofobx @mrsmaybank13

If your usernames were crossed, meaning I can’t tag you! Let me know if you would like to be removed or to be added to the tag list! Or if I missed anyone!

[ghostofhyuck]

NCT Dream when someone won't stop sending you messages.

AN: Just an unexpected prompt because a former classmate of mine won't stop sending me messages! (Weirdo) 

Mark Lee

Mark knows about that guy who you met at your internship. He won't stop chatting you in your social media that you started worrying. "Just mute him," Mark said because he knows that it's hard for you to block and unfollow people who you used to be close with him. You only follow your boyfriend's order and mutes the guy's account on your social media. "If he chats you again, just tell me." Mark said one last time. 

Huang Renjun

It's frustrating because you already ignored him on your Instagram, now he's on your Twitter dm. You couldn't help but to let out a frustrated sigh because why can't guys take a fucking hint!? But in a split second, Renjun grabs your phone and you weren't able to stop him from chatting a long-ass message to the guy, telling him to fuck off because he's being a creep, and then presses send. "Don't worry, I put my name below, he should know that you're taken."

Lee Jeno

You only stared at your phone. You don't know what to do when your former classmate sent you another message. He's weird for pressing likes on your ig stories and now, he creepily sent you a "hi." You know that he has some hidden intentions, that's why suddenly, Jeno grabs your phone and sees what you've been staring at. "Jeno ---" "Blocked him for you," your boyfriend said, returning your phone to you. "You shouldn't let people make you uncomfortable." 

Lee Donghyuck

"What's his name?" Haechan asked when you told him that your former friend sent you a message once again. You stared at your boyfriend but it seems like he was serious about sending the guy a message since you told him that you're starting to feel uncomfortable with the unsolicited messages. You told him the guy's name and you watch Haechan type on his phone with a serious look. Minutes after, he looks at you and gently smiles, "That'll stop him."

Na Jaemin

You opened your concern to Jaemin when you found out that you had a missed call from your former classmate. It used to be just him sending you a message and no matter how many times you ignore his messages, he would still send you messages. You were in the middle of your rant when you heard your phone's ringtone. Jaemin only smiled at you, asking for your phone in which you gave without any hesitations. "Don't worry princess, I got you." Jaemin said before his expression turned into a serious one. 

Zhong Chenle

"Let me see," Chenle looks at the chatbox. It contains nothing but tons of message from that guy you met at a bar, and that was years ago! You were surprised when he started spamming you with messages. "What's his number?" he asked and you only looked at your boyfriend. "Come on, he won't stop unless someone told him to fuck off," you were convinced, giving him the guy's number, and you watch as Chenle let out string of curses at the guy, telling him to stay away from you. 

Park Jisung

First, you can't block him because he's a former classmate of yours. Your other classmates will know that you did it and you don't want to cause any drama. Even though you ignored him numerous times, he still won't stop chatting you, even sending you a text message as if he was desperate. Jisung had enough of it, he grabs your phone, blocks him on your phone and returns your phone to you. "If he chats you one more time, I'll expose him if that means shutting him up." your boyfriend said while wearing his sweetest smile. 

[keisobe]

little bit of self-indulgence but may i request college au! miguel (you can make him a professor, fellow student up to you) tutoring reader with a bit of suggestive content ;)

☆ﾟ°˖ 𝐍𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓 (𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚) ⋮ heavily suggestive (borderline smut). professor + student relationship. not completely proofread. ⎯ miguel cannot keep his hands off his favorite student

professor miguel had a major soft spot for you. yes, a very unethical practice as he was your superior, but he couldn’t help himself. your sickly soothing voice calling him ‘sir’ or even ‘mr. o’hara’ would play in the back of his mind while he prepped for his next lab. the permanent eye contact he would hold with you during his long lectures left him flustered throughout the whole day. he would even give small compliments here and there about your work— a rare thing anybody could ever receive.

he even personally recommended you to the most prestigious internship in alchemax (as a previous senior engineer that worked for the company itself, call it nepotism). boasting about your skills and intellect with lustrous eyes until he catches himself mid sentence. putting aside his thought process, miguel chugged down his hot coffee and held it in— even if it did burn the entirety of his mouth cavity. he spat it out in the nearest bathroom afterwards.

he cannot feel like this, especially for his student.

but when you graced your presence in his empty office, asking sweetly for tutoring lessons over the summer— he immediately gave in.

now he found himself looming over your smaller frame, gazing down at your hands, fiddling with the steel pen he personally gifted to you when you were accepted into the internship (though he never told you how you even got in). the air felt off without other students bustling in and out of his lab, occupying the other seats as they asked their professor’s personal insight. it was just you and him, alone.

“something wrong?” miguel, usually stern with his voice, softly asks you when he notices the furrow in your brows.

upon his concern, the conflicted look on your face melted into a cheeky smile. miguel couldn’t help but feel relieved that he didn’t upset you when he was carefully dissecting the notes and research you asked help on. but what surprised him was your next statement.

“we’re finally alone, it’s weird to think that, right?”

if he was drinking coffee right now, he would’ve spat it out from utter shock. there were thoughts, very inappropriate thoughts that crossed his mind when he thought about this predicament. yes you’re right, nobody else was here, not even his coworkers that would rudely interrupt him when he graded assignments (ahem peter) can catch the both of you.

“yeah… you’re right.”

he left it at that, but his eyes fell down to your mouth— the pretty gloss adorning your lips left miguel thinking about your body being propped between his legs, the fly of his slacks down as the softness of your hands tracing around his exposed skin.

“mr. o’hara, are you okay?” you leaned closer to miguel with fluttering lashes, tilting your head to the side with a small smile.

your feigned innocence drove him crazy, to the point he was clawing at the arms of his chair. he was completely restrained, bound by his title, bound by his position— it was slipping away from his grasp and into your pretty hands. shit, all this self-discipline and you weren’t even touching him.

at the end, miguel really couldn’t help himself.

“fuck– i can’t— please come here.” miguel initially planned for a more intimate tone, but he was completely desperate.

immediately, you stood from your seat and walked over to his side of the desk that created a barrier between the two of you for the last three hours. before you had the chance to situate yourself between his legs, his rough hands met you halfway as he held your waist— pressing you down abruptly onto the cold surface that elicited a sharp screech from one of the legs of his desk. with your face and chest pinned down, miguel had a perfect display of your frame.

you felt a warm press against your ass, his death grip guiding your hips onto his erection while he let out a strangled groan from the contact. you began to take control of your own hips, grinding down onto his hardness as miguel slowly came more and more undone. beads of sweat dripped onto the notes splayed across the desk, accompanied with his deep-throated groans that he failed to suppress in his throat.

suddenly, his weight came crashing down onto you, but his hips still sputtered against you. miguel was burning; his skin heated with lust and his sweaty palms continued to grope and pinch and squeeze and take and take all of you in his touch.

“please sir…” you whimpered out, looking into his intense gaze with anticipation.

miguel’s breath fanned your cheeks as he threaded a comforting hand through your hair, then immediately, he gripped your scalp tightly that left your vision blurry with tears. his other hand sneakily reaches between the plushness of your thighs, dragging sharp nails along your untainted skin.

“miguel…” he mumbled with a heavy pant, the buckle of his belt clanking against the floor as his ironed pressed slacks pooled around his ankles. “call me miguel for tonight.”

MOCHIFILM © 2023. please do not copy, translate, or modify any of my work. all of my works are not permitted to be posted on any other sites.

[kaanagen]

KLOKLLEGE [ METALOCALYPSE AU]

This is a college AU with Dethklok, written by someone in college as a form of escapism. Let me point out some of their main traits in this universe:

Skwisgaar Skwigelf

24 y/o

Music course

Guitar prodigy

Not that egocentric but already pretty smug and vain

Figuring himself out, but manages to charm a lot of girls with minimal effort

Lives on the college campus

Popular enough to make him worry about his image and what people think of him

Goes to a lot of parties

Works part-time at an antique store on the other side of town so people won't find him and see him as "lesser"

Toki Wartooth

20 y/o

Initially came to study Theology, then switched to Fine Arts but is considering changing to Music after meeting Skwisgaar

Christian but non-practicing

Lives on the college campus

Considered the "weird guy" after becoming friends with Murderface

Not many friends

Ran away from home and forged documents to get an internship to study in America

With no financial help from his parents, works part-time at an antique store and does various gigs around town, which is how he met Skwisgaar and Murderface

Plays guitar as a hobby and is quite good for being self-taught, which helps him land a few gigs

Develops a crush on Skwisgaar as they start working together, but has conflicted views about his sexuality due to his upbringing

Purposely ruins Skwisgaar's dates as they grow closer through their job

Pickles

26 y/o

Initially not in college, but Nathan convinces him to enroll in the Music course

Doesn't get his piercings until after he meets Nathan

Ran away from home and has been living in the back of his family's stolen car for nearly two years

Goes to parties for free food, booze and drugs

Met Nathan after cutting himself while high and drunk at a party—they’ve been friends ever since

Pro at shoplifting

Befriends Skwisgaar after hearing him play at a party

After enrolling in college, Toki offers to help him study, but they can never focus

Has a situationship with Nathan that he's too scared to call anything else

Nathan Explosion

25 y/o

In college for American football

Only got through high school by excelling in football so that was his only notion to go forward

Part of an underground fight club so it's normal for him to be bruised

Pretty popular in his class

Goes to a lot of parties but keeps a low profile

Met Pickles at a party after Skwisgaar bailed on him to study for an exam

His mom enrolled him in a singing class once a week to help him talk more, but no one really knows about it

William Murderface

23 y/o

Wouldn’t be caught dead studying in college after threatening his high school principal into graduating him

Only in college because, once Toki befriended him through one of his gigs, he never left

Lives in Toki’s dorm rent-free to avoid going home to his grandparents

Has a bad reputation that rubbed off on Toki, making them the "weirdo duo"

Used to go to parties, but after getting beaten up trying to hook up with a girl, he gave up on hanging out with the college jackoffs

Doesn't know he has sleep apnea that keeps Toki awake at night

Helps Toki find gigs but usually messes things up, thinking he’s helping (and always asks for a cut of the money for his "help")

Some content I already made for Klokllege:

Pickles and Nathan's first encounters

First contact / The aftermath

Skwisgaar and Toki's soft feels

Glances

[gguk-n]

Pivotal choice (Carlos Sainz x Race Engineer!Vowels!Reader)

Summary- Just as the summer break 2024 started Carlos Sainz Jr announced that he would be joining Williams Racing from 2025 onwards. Everyone thought it was because James Vowels was persistent little did they know, Carlos's decision rested in Vowel's daughter's hand who was currently working as a race engineer at Williams.

There had been a shift in Williams from the start of 2024 season, it wasn't visible to the world but anyone in Formula One could see it. James Vowels, it seems was making the right decisions, but in actuality it was his daughter, Y/N who had just joined as a race engineer who was calling the shots during race strategies and giving her opinion to her dad which helped him make decisions. She was the reason Logan got his first point last year and the reason Alex was able to compete for points. That's how her and Logan had grown closer together since they were closer in age and had the same sense of humour.

Vowels spent a lot of his time courting Carlos Sainz Junior, especially after he had lost his seat to Lewis Hamilton in the start of the season much to his daughter's dismay. She couldn't believe her father was being so irrational and persistent which translated into her growing annoyance and hatred for the Ferrari driver. Y/N had caught Carlos's eyes the first time her dad had dragged her along to dinner with Carlos after the race. She had made sure to let her father and the potential Williams driver know of her annoyance at being dragged here and the fact that they were possibly making Logan seatless for next year.

She remembers it like yesterday when her dad after much deliberation and push had resigned Logan. She had even offered to be his race engineer to help him; her dad didn't think she could do much but agreed. She was currently not only Logan's race engineer but his therapist. So, you can imagine how much she was hating being here. Vowels got up to use the restroom leaving the two together; Y/N ate her food quietly not even looking up. "I heard you're Logan's race engineer" Carlos began. She nodded. "I know it must be difficult to sit and have dinner with the guy who might take your drivers seat. I'm sorry but the world of motorsports is cut throat and" she cut Carlos off with "I know, I'm just salty dad's being like this since Logan has potential if given the right chances, not looking for a replacement." she said looking into his eyes. Carlos's breath hitched in his throat, those were beautiful eyes he thought. "Again I'm sorry but I need to weigh all my options" he continued. "I know" she hung her head down while continuing to cut into her food. Her father was back soon, trying to cozy up and butter Carlos up. There was a perpetual grimace on her face apart from her usual frown.

The dinner couldn't end any sooner because Y/N bolted out with a quick good bye. Carlos was intrigued. He wanted to know more about this girl who looked at him with more disdain than Logan himself. Carlos found himself looking at her whenever she was around or searching for her during race weekends. He had found out from Alex that she was James Vowel's only daughter; extremely smart since she graduated from mechanical engineering and masters in automobile. She had used her connections to land good internships so that her being hired by Williams wouldn't be weird. She was a nepo baby who knew what she wanted and how to get it. To add insult to injury, she was friends with Logan which explained the disdain. Carlos found her interesting; she was funny from what he had gathered and found himself laughing at her jokes when he would over hear her conversations, she was pretty which he had decided the first time he saw her walk in with her dad, she was close with not only Logan Sargeant but Oscar Piastri who she didn't glare at like she would glare at him from time to time. It was starting to hurt Carlos's feelings.

The next time they met, Y/N looked even more annoyed with his presence then she could've been the last time they met, he thought. She was being dragged along by her dad again even though she threatened to run away. "Dad, I'm not having dinner with him. For goodness sake, let me mourn in peace." she snapped. "I don't get what you're mourning. Having Carlos on Williams is what we need. Also, I would like you to be his race engineer. Both of you are smart and will make a great team, I can already see it" Vowels reasoned trying to get his daughter to see the bigger picture. "Well I don't. I'll be Alex's engineer if Logan's no longer on the team" she stated. "You do not get a say in today's dinner, we'll discuss your plans for next year later. Now get dressed before I fire you" he commanded. "Ugh, that's why I didn't want to work for you. Even Sauber would've been fine at this point" she whined. "Well, we have points and they don't" he snapped. "Would've had more, had you not fucked Logan over" she snapped back and went to get dressed. "Language missy" James shouted back at her.

Carlos was bearing the brunt of much of Y/N's annoyance who got jabbed in her rib by her dad about 4 times since they sat down and the food wasn't even out yet. "I really want you and Y/N to get along since I feel like if you join Williams, Y/N would be a good fit as your race engineer even though she's a rookie. I'm not just saying this because she's my daughter." Vowels told Carlos. "Well, I'm not a good fit for him" she muttered. "If you'll excuse us Carlos" Vowels said sternly dragging her out, "I swear, if you do not behave I will drop Logan right now, God knows how much I want to" he seethed. "dad" she whispered with tears in her eyes. "Now, you'll walk in and be on your best behaviour." he commanded. She nodded and quickly wiped away her tears and walked in with her dad. Carlos noticed the sudden shift, her demeanour sadder and hurt, not the usual snappy and sarcastic self. Dinner ended without anymore hiccups, Y/N only nodded her head along to whatever her dad had to say.

Carlos wasn't sure what Vowels told his daughter which made her look like a puppy that had been kicked. But he did ask the restaurant they were eating at to pack him an assortment of their best dessert; he had heard from the others that she loved desserts, maybe this would cheer her up, he thought. He grabbed the bag before exiting the restaurant and handed it to her, her dad was waiting for the valet to bring his car who was now watching the pair interact. "What's this?" she asked. "Something to cheer you up" Carlos said. "I don't want it and you don't need to cheer me up" she said trying to hand him the bag back. "I know but I want to" he clarified. "You're already in my dad's good books, you don't have to try this hard" she said. "I don't want to, I want to be in your good books" Carlos smiled. Y/N's heart skipped a beat watching him smile, this was weird. "I don't think you can be" she corrected. "Well then, just enjoy the food. Don't think about it too much" he leaned into whisper in her ear, winking at her before climbing into his car which was ready for him. Y/N was staring at the bag in her hand and the driver that just handed it to her before leaving. She felt guilty now for treating him like shit when he was just trying to stay in the sport like anyone would.

She was in her home, slowly unboxing the package from Carlos which had a collection of macaroons, donuts, cheesecakes, red velvet cakes. This was so much food for anyone, she could have this for a couple days. The next time she meets Carlos, she should thank him, she thought as she took a bite of the coffee flavoured macaroon which tasted too good to even be real.

She got to meet Carlos in the next race, instead of running away or frowning like she had been doing the past couple months, she smiled at him and walked up to him; Carlos thought he was dreaming. The Y/N Vowels was walking up to him, it felt unreal, he almost pinched himself. "Thanks for the sweet treats, I loved them." she said. "That's a relief, I wasn't sure what you liked so I got you a few of everything" he replied. "Well, next time you wanna get me something, there is this patisserie in Paris." she began. "Tell me the address and I'll bring that to you next time" he interrupted. "I was just kidding. I enjoyed them. Thanks but that doesn't mean I'm okay with whatever is happening" she corrected. "If it means you'll stop looking at me like I killed a man than that's a win in my books" he laughed. She waved him off and walked away to the Williams garage.

"Were you talking to Y/N?" Lando asked. "yeah" Carlos said. "Why? Fancy her?" Lando laughed. "Maybe" Carlos thought out loud. "Mate, I think she likes Logan or something" Lando said immediately. "Really?" Carlos asked, a little hurt. "Yeah, I think that's what Oscar was talking about to Lily or something, I just over heard them anyways" Lando shrugged.

Carlos didn't think he liked Y/N, not until Lando asked him. That's when he realised that he did. There was a reason he tried so hard to make her like him and wished she would talk to him in all those dinners. He felt like he understood why she was being so annoyed with him since he would possibly replace the guy she liked. Carlos was a little hurt, he wished that was a piece of information Lando hadn't passed onto him.

Y/N on the other hand, found herself thinking about Carlos a lot, since he tried to cheer her up. She realised that she was being too harsh on Carlos when it was not his fault and if there was anyone she should be angry at was her dad and not Carlos. She found herself looking through his race stats and his strategies. She couldn't help but admire him for his craft. Maybe, she was being a little too unwelcoming. Obviously, she would fight tooth and nail for Logan; her dad wasn't having his way this easily.

The next dinner, Y/N felt like Carlos wasn't talking to her like the previous dinners. He would try to get her input on anything and listen intently even if she was bad mouthing him but right now, he was talking only business with her dad. She had decided to be civil today and didn't even make a snide remarks. A part of her was hurt, maybe she deserved it after the shitty way she had been treating Carlos. Dinner took forever to end, for other reasons than the previous ones. She tried to strike up a conversation with Carlos but nothing came of it.

A few weeks later, her father had stopped pestering her to tag along to dinners with Carlos. She was happy this way, until at family dinner. "I think I'm close to signing Carlos" James told his wife. "That sounds wonderful, darling" she remarked. "What do you mean?" Y/N almost shouted. "Not having you around seemed very fruitful to me, considering you're always frowning at the poor guy" your father corrected. "You can't kick Logan out without giving him a fair chance." she pointed out. "I gave him a chance and he blew it, it's not my fault" your father reprimanded. "No you did not. I can't believe you're behaving like this" she pushed the food away. "If you are going to be this rude, leave. I'll see what you can do without my name" your father replied. She had tears pricking her eyes. "dad" she began. "Just because you're my only daughter, doesn't mean I will let you behave like a rude brat and get away with it. Go on, I want to see what you can do with out me or my help" he said. He wasn't like this, she thought. Her mother tried to calm her father down but Y/N left.

Their fight wasn't over. It had seeped into their work where they would only talk when necessary. Everyone in Williams could fell the tense environment. Logan and Alex tried to diffuse the environment but Y/N just brushed it off, until she couldn't anymore. There were rumours floating around that Logan would be replaced next year or worse mid season because of the shit her dad was blabbering about in interviews. She was sick and tired of that man, that's why she was now storming into his office. The secretary left quickly, sensing the atmosphere.

"Dad, what is wrong with you? You need media training, not your drivers" she snapped. "What is this behaviour? Is this how you talk to your father?" he raised his voice. "Mr Vowels, please behave like an adult. Please don't talk crap about your drivers while they are driving for you at least" she reprimanded. " Miss Vowels, I'll talk however I like" he snapped back. The Miss Vowels hurt, "dad" she huffed. "I'm not your dad in this office. I'm the team principal of a team that is failing and I want to bring to the top" he replied sternly. "You can do all that without disposing people off like collateral damage" she pointed. "I'll do what I think is right" he said. "If you want Carlos to sign, stop talking about him in every interview like a love sick teenager. Tell him our stats and make promises you can keep and then if he signs give your driver who had been with you since his junior career a respectful send off" she said turning around. "You don't mind Carlos joining" he asked hopeful. "It's your team. I'm just an employee" she replied dejected.

Y/N had tears streaming down her face when Logan met her. "I'm sorry, I'm such a shitty friend. I told you I'll do anything for you but I can't" she cried. "It's okay. I know you are trying your best" Logan said wrapping her in his arms. "It's hard fighting your dad" she sobbed. "I know" he patted her back. "I don't blame you for it" he smiled bitterly rubbing her back. "Maybe I shouldn't have joined Williams" she sobbed. "Hey! You helped me score points and are giving valuable input, don't say that. I'm so proud of you and how far you've come" he said looking at her and wiping her tears. His hands were cupping her cheeks, "You did what you could, now it's my turn" he smiled at her. "I'll do whatever it takes. I'll continue racing even if it's not in formula one, I won't stop racing" he declared. He wiped away her tears, "Now smile, I hate it when my best friend cries" he teased.

Maybe talking to Carlos was like fraternising with the enemy, maybe that's why she felt awkward approaching him. She should have no reason to approach him anyways. There are already weird rumours floating around because of her father, she didn't want to add fuel to the fire.

Y/N ran into Carlos when she was rushing to her garage at the Spanish GP, where there were rumours floating around that he would announce the team he was joining. "Sorry" she apologised looking at the man she had run into. "It's okay" Carlos replied. "Did you sign a contract yet?" she asked abruptly. "No" Carlos replied scratching his neck. "Weigh in all you options. Whatever choice you make, let it be the best it is for you" she advised. "I thought you didn't want me at Williams" he commented. "I was being too emotional about losing my best friend. I've matured now" she smiled at him. "Logan's your best friend?" he asked, Carlos really needs to focus on more important things instead of the fact that his crush isn't crushing on another man, but he was a man of simple needs. "yeah. I mean you'll probably understand since....if something like this happened to Lando" she said shuffling her feet. "yeah" Carlos nodded. "Good luck with the decision" Y/N wished him. "You know, maybe we could go out for food" Carlos suggested. "Isn't it unethical since I'm William's team principal's daughter?" she smirked. "I haven't signed yet, so no" Carlos smiled. "Don't you want to spend time with your family" she asked. "Maybe you could join me" he winked. "What?" she asked, blushing. "I was kidding, but if you want to, I don't mind" now he was smirking. "Ah, no. Let's go out after the triple header's done" she told him. "No take backs" Carlos insisted, his tone firm as he scanned her eyes. "Ferrari's hottest driver just asked me out, I'd be a fool to say no" she teased. Carlos was now blushing, "I'll see you in Silverstone" he said, "for our date" he added tentatively. "yeah" she said biting her lower lip trying not to smile.

Y/N was counting down the days to Silverstone. The weeks didn't seem to pass. She didn't want anyone knowing either, not now anyways, what if she jinxed it?

The British GP was a big deal since it was Williams home race. Y/N was very busy with preparing everything related to work on the car. She had been working with Logan closely to get him the upgrades, which was taking longer than she hoped. Logan finishing just below points and Alex in points was great news. Everyone was ecstatic in the team and Vowels called for a team dinner which Y/N was thinking of ways to avoid. Her relation with her father was repairing it self slowly with the helpful intervention from her mother; "I will not be caught in a cross fire. This is a house not a war zone. Get along or I'm throwing you out James" her mum told her dad. That's why they had started being civil which in turn led to the atmosphere at Williams improving as well.

Y/N had lied saying that she was catching up with old friends and escaped the dinner after a lot of whining and cribbing on Alex and Logan's part for leaving them.

She got back, showered and got dressed. A white midi body con dress was calling her name. Carlos picked her up from her home, like a gentleman and held the door. "You look gorgeous" Carlos smiled checking her out. "Thank you Carlos, you look quite breath taking yourself" she breathed out.

They drove to the restaurant, talking about the most random things but racing was off the table. "If I knew how pretty you looked laughing I would've stolen you away ages ago" Carlos commented making Y/N blush. "I'm not that easy to entertain" she chided. "I know, I've been on the receiving end of some very angry stares" he laughed. "In my defence, my dad was being an ass" she spoke. "It's okay. I forgive you" he smiled.

The dinner ended rather quickly, much to the pair's dismay. "Do you want to do this again sometime?" Carlos asked hesitantly. "I would love to. Next week is off" she suggested. "Would you like to come to Monaco?" Carlos asked. "Yeah, see you then" she said kissing his cheek. "What will it take for you to kiss my lips?" he teased. "hmm..I'm a simple woman, a couple more dates maybe" she teased back. "I don't mind seeing you as often as I can but are you really going to keep me waiting?" he leaned in. "Maybe. But I could change my mind if you behave" Y/N bopped his nose and opened the door to her house biding him good night.

She was in Monaco next week, Carlos had come to pick her up from the airport and drove her around. She hadn't been in Monaco in a while. The place was warmer and the sun was shining down on them as they drove around. At night, they had dinner at a really nice Italian place. When they were walking around on the beach, "Spend the summer break with me?" Carlos asked. "I don't spend my holidays with random men" she teased. "Am I a random man?" Carlos cocked his eyebrow. "You aren't my boyfriend either" she retorted. "Well, maybe I'll ask you to be my girlfriend over the break, you'll have to find out thought" he joked. "Hmm..you drive a hard bargain Mr Sainz" she acted like she was thinking. She turned to him, "If this kiss is worth it, I might just spend the break with you" she provoked. "You're spending that break with me" he stated before he crashed his lips against her. Y/N's lips were warm and cushiony as Carlos's soft ones moved against hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck and his hands found home on her waist. His nose bumping her cheek as they deepened the kiss. She pulled away, out of breath, "I guess I'm spending my break with you" she smiled at him. Carlos began to pepper his face with kisses.

The two of them had to wait for 2 more races. They were itching to be together; she couldn't go up to him and kiss his perfect face whenever she wanted. Carlos couldn't spend all his free time in the paddock with her; it was torture for the two of them.

Carlos had made up his mind, he would be signing with Williams. He saw a future and a very alluring exit clause just the way he wanted. He did mention something to Y/N about it but they didn't talk about racing during their dates.

It was the first day of the summer break, Carlos was laying in bed with Y/N in his arms; "I have an announcement to make" Carlos whispered. "At 9 in the morning" Y/N grumbled. "I'll be announcing which team I'm joining today" he spoke. "Really?" she asked, now wide awake. "yeah. I signed with Williams" he spoke slowly. It took a moment to register for Y/N and then tears prickled her eyes. She wasn't sure they were tears of joy or sorrow. "Congratulations" she croaked, kissing his lips. "I'm sorry about Logan" Carlos apologised squeezing her hips. "It's okay" she smiled weakly. "I'll make a few calls and be right back" he said getting out of bed. The video had been recorded and would be uploaded soon. Y/N was pacing around the house sending a few texts to Logan to check up on him and looking up what the fans had to say. As soon as the news went live, Y/N got a message from her dad; 'Carlos Sainz Jr is your new driver from next year' it read. She had a bitter sweet feeling reading the message.

Carlos came back, done with the initial announcement. "I'll be your engineer next year" Y/N said cupping his cheeks. "Yeah, that was one of my clauses for signing" he said cupping her cheeks too. "Will you be my girlfriend?" he asked looking into her eyes. "I don't know about mixing business and pleasure" she hesitated. "Just say yes" Carlos begged. "Promise me you won't get hurt" she asked. "I'll try my best" he replied. "Than, Yes" she said leaning in to kiss him, pushing up on her toes to close the distance. "I can't wait to kiss you in public" Carlos stated breaking the kiss. "Let's wait. After the way my dad has been courting you" she laughed. "Well I was trying to court his daughter" he retorted. "And you succeeded" she kissed him again. "Let's enjoy these 3 weeks of peace before we have to return" he said sweeping her off her feet and carrying her bridal style back to the room as she pressed open mouth kisses on his neck.

I've been working on this since the announcement. I had fun writing it. Hope you enjoy too.

[nadvs]

why do i see cheerleader reader having daddy issues, so when she tells rafe she’s pregnant, she’s so emotional and scared about how he’s gonna react and if he’s gonna break up with her or something

it tracks 🥺 she always expects to be disappointed by men and it’s not just because every guy she’s dated before rafe has treated her badly…

based on this fic

when she moves in with rafe after she finishes her post-grad internship, she’s still on the pill. one day, she’s complaining about the side effects of it as she’s making herself lunch and her boyfriend says, “then stop taking it.”

she looks at him from across the kitchen.

“we’d have to use protection,” she says. “every time.”

“sure. but is it so bad if…?”

she’s shocked. they’ve been together for about two years now and they’ve never talked about kids past a mention of it’d be nice to be parents some day.

“if i get pregnant?” she says.

“yeah.”

“isn’t that fast?”

“not for me. is it fast for you?”

she shrugs. maybe it’s not so crazy. they have their future set. a child would be a nice addition. they haven’t talked about marriage, but she’s in no rush. they don’t have to be married to have a baby.

“if we both want it… i guess if it happens, it happens,” she mumbles. “but our lives would change really, really drastically.”

“i know,” rafe says comfortingly.

she continues to make herself food and he stares at her, imagining her with a baby bump and that bump turning into a little human who’s a mix of him and the person he loves most.

he knows she’d be a great mom. and he’s always wanted to be a dad. he’s always wanted to undo how his own father had raised him, making his only son have to struggle for his fleeting approval.

three months later, she misses her period. she doesn’t tell rafe. she picks up a pregnancy test. she doesn’t tell him that, either. when she sees the double lines on the test, she’s standing in the middle of their bathroom, her body trembling.

and she hates that she doesn’t feel excited. she’s scared. she thought she wanted this. she hoped for a positive. but this isn’t the feeling she thought she’d have.

she goes through the motions of ordering a custom newborn basketball jersey with cameron stitched on the back, having dreamed of telling rafe that they’re expecting that way.

a couple of days later, it comes in the mail. she has actually sort of liked keeping the secret while she waited because it meant she could pretend it wasn’t real yet.

she does what she thinks she should do. she puts the tiny shirt in a bag, sets up her phone to record, and calls him over to tell him something came for him. this is what a woman who’s excited to tell him would do, she tells herself.

at first, when rafe opens the bag, he doesn’t say anything. his jaw goes slack, he blinks a bunch of times, and then he pulls her in for a tight hug.

she’s already shaking, tears in her eyes, when she hears him sniffle. he pulls back. his hands are firm on her cheeks, gazing at her through glossy blue eyes.

“you’re happy?” she whispers.

“yeah,” he responds, saying it like it’s obvious. “we wanted this, right?”

rafe stills for a moment when he sees just how anguished she looks. she doesn’t seem happy at all.

“right?” he repeats.

“yeah,” she says, nodding and looking down. “i don’t know. it’s weird. maybe it’s the hormones already.”

“how long have you known? do you feel okay?”

“just a couple days,” she says. “i’m tired. a little nauseous. but he hasn’t made me throw up yet.”

“he?”

she meets her boyfriend’s eyes.

“i know it’s too soon to tell,” she says, “but i really hope it’s a boy. you���ll feel more connected to a boy.”

he can tell by the way she’s stuttering and crying that something’s wrong.

“baby,” he mumbles. “i’ll feel connected no matter what. it’s my kid.”

she shudders, nodding through her sobs.

“what’s up?” rafe says softly. “do you… are you regretting it?”

“no,” she replies, “but are you sure you want this?”

“yes. we talked about it,” he reminds her. “it’s not like this was an accident.”

“yeah,” she mumbles, looking down at her lap again.

rafe stares at her, slightly shaking his head in disbelief. she’s acting like this was unexpected. like she’s wishing they never started trying.

“what is it?” he says. “if you don’t want this, then just tell me.”

she curls up, slouching as she dips her head into her hands, the tears coming harder now.

“if it gets hard…” she whimpers, her voice muffled. “you can’t leave me to do it on my own. you can’t.”

he’s floored. they haven’t mentioned anything about the possibility of things not working out with them in ages. and back when they did, it was almost always rafe needing reassurance that she wasn’t planning on leaving him.

“i would never do that,” he says. “look at me.” his fingers wrap around her wrists, pulling her hands down from her face.

“where’s this coming from?” rafe mumbles. “did i do something?”

he thinks back to the past few days, trying to remember if he said something even in passing that would make her worry about him abandoning his girl and their baby.

the look in his eyes almost looks like betrayal. like he can’t believe she’s saying this.

she swallows hard, coming to terms with what’s been swimming in her head for days now. her father was absent. the only example she had of a dad was one who never really acted like he wanted a kid at all.

“i don’t know what it looks like,” she begins, “when a man actually wants to be a dad. maybe you’re excited now, but what if when it gets hard? when he’s crying or sick or keeping us awake?”

“we’ll deal with it,” he says. he pushes past his own ache to try to understand her.

his cups her hands in his, searching her face with concerned eyes. he remembers her opening up to him long ago about how she always wondered if her dad would have loved her more if she was a son instead of a daughter.

“when he or she is giving us hell, we’ll deal with it,” he says. “i love them already. there’s nothing that’ll change that.”

he puts a hand on her stomach, rubbing gently. she finally cracks a smile, softly laughing. his chest loses its tightness when he sees her look happy for the first time since he got home.

“i was reading that it’s the size of a pomegranate seed right now,” she says.

he smiles in awe, kissing her wet cheek.

“what’s next?” he asks. “what appointments do we make? what should you be eating?”

she laughs again. rafe has always been so intense, so focused on the next step.

“let me catch my breath first,” she teases. she looks over, just now remembering she filmed all this.

“my bad, baby,” he laughs. “breathe. this’ll be good, alright?”

“alright,” she says. and she believes it.

[coco-loco-nut]

Actress

Pairing: Logan x Reader

Summary: A former F2 driver gets the chance to star on the big screen.

A/n: I am so sorry this took so long. August was the busiest month of my internship and 60 hour work weeks are tough, plus an hour commute 🥲

masterlist requests open

———————

Filming in the Formula One paddock was something else. Sure, you have been here before, but this was something different. You were fulfilling your childhood dream of being a Formula One driver, kinda.

“We will start filming in 15,” your producer says at the end of their tangent. The race suit hangs at your hips as you stand, watching other drivers go by.

“Why does she look familiar?” Lando asks Oscar, both ready to collapse in their drivers rooms after a long qualifying session.

“She drove in Formula Two with Trident a few years ago,” Oscar quietly observes you, mentally debating whether it would be weird to approach you.

“She seems to be doing well for herself,” Lando hums, feeling ready to take a nap. Oscar steps away, deciding it’s more awkward to say nothing than to at least say hello.

“Hi, y/n, right? I’m Oscar, we used to race against each in F2,” Oscar extends his hand, unsure if you remember him. A bit silly, seeing as how you hung out a good amount.

“Of course, I remember. Too many adventures to forget. I considered copying your tweet to announce my contract wasn’t getting extended,” you smile, showing you aren’t upset.

“I’m sorry, you were a good driver,” Oscar offers, but you shake your head. You won a couple races in F2, but that was a lot of luck.

“I hit my ceiling, and there wasn’t going to be a seat waiting for me since I wasn’t in an F1 driver academy. I still drive occasionally in Indycar to keep my license,” you push down the little bit of longing, watching drivers walk through the paddock.

“How did you get into acting?” Oscar asks, genuinely curious at how you got involved in the movie.

“It was a bit of a wild experience. I applied to stunt drive for the film, but they liked my look and I guess I act well enough. So I ended up with one of the leads, a racing prodigy. Some tips on being one would be greatly appreciated,” Oscar’s cheeks flame when you call him a prodigy. He’s too humble for that.

“I wouldn’t say that. You know racing better than most, if not all, the people working on the movie, so I know you will be okay,” Oscar reassures you.

“Y/n, come to the garage. We film in ten,” an assistant comes to get you. You hesitate, not quite wanting to end your conversation.

“I’ll walk with you?” Oscar suggests, knowing you must feel a little out of place despite looking like you are meant to be here.

“Thanks. I can’t tell you the last time I was in a Formula One garage,” you say, letting out a sigh of relief. You would normally insist that he goes to his post-race meetings, but the accompaniment is needed.

“Anything for an old friend and rival,” Oscar jokes causing you both to chuckle, easing what’s left of the awkward tension.

“Is Logan still your bestie? I know you both were close,” you ask, your helmet feeling heavy in your hand.

“We are still close. I’m sure he’d love to see you again. He used to have a crush on you,” Oscar reveals as you get close to the garage the production team set up, you think it might actually be functional too.

“Aww, maybe we should get dinner sometime. Are you still with Lily?” you ask, feeling pre-race jitters even though you are only doing a few laps. There needs good film for both you and Pitt, so you are taking the track at different Grand Prix races this year.

“Yeah, it’s going well. Text me when you have a free weekend, I’ll get McLaren to invite you as a guest,” Oscar smiles, observing you. “You’ve been doing this all your life, it’s just you, the car, and the track,” he reminds you, sensing the nerves.

“Thanks, Oscar. It was nice to see a familiar face,” you say before heading into the garage. You thought it would be a standard F2 car, but you were wrong, they modified it to look like an F1 car.

You inspect your car, mentally noting what they changed and how it might affect your drive. After a quick conversation with Mercedes engineers, you get into the car, testing your radio and doing some final checks. Once the FIA clears you, you exit into pit lane, careful not to speed.

You keep your breathing steady, focusing on the feel of the car. You’ve raced at Silverstone before, this is no different. You did your track walk, you’ve sim raced, you warmed up and have kept up with your race training. After a lap to warm up your tires, you drive like you are racing. Each turn feels natural, your muscle memory kicking in and the car responding nicely. Oscar was right, you’ve been driving all your life, it’s just you and the car. You don’t waste the opportunity, pushing the car to its limits, driving on the edge. You prove why you belonged in F2. Indycar is great, but it isn’t the same.

“Two more laps then bring it in,” you hear over the radio, and you can’t help but wish you could drive more. There will be other filming opportunities, but you won’t lie and say that you didn’t miss racing regularly.

When you bring the car in, you feel like you are on cloud nine.

“It drives great, I hope those laps were good enough,” you smile, pulling off your helmet and balaclava.

“Spectacular drive, I knew having you in the car was a good choice,” Lewis says, appearing beside you. He’s working as a consultant on the movie, but you haven’t actually met him yet.

“Sir Hamilton, wow, I, um, thank you so much. It means a lot coming from you,” you stumble over your words, almost dropping your helmet.

“You raced in F2, without the support of an academy, and won a couple races. You are a good driver,” Lewis further compliments you. If you were to die right now, you would have no objections.

“I am literally at a loss for words, you have no idea how much that means coming from you. You inspired me to keep racing,” you are torn between crying and melting into the ground out of happiness.

“I look forward to watching your other drives, you have talent. It’s disappointing that you didn’t get another contract,” Lewis says a little offhandedly before heading back to Mercedes.

“We are going to get shots of you in the garage,” you are informed, before being requested to go back to hair and makeup.

“This is what it looks like to be a driver. We all aren’t Carlos, we don’t look flawless right after a race,” you joke as you push back again the request, pulling your balaclava back on.

You spend the next hour filming, and a part of you misses when you would be meeting with your team instead after driving laps. As you wrap up and change into something that isn’t your racing suit, aka sweat pants and an old team hoodie, you cannot wait to get back to the hotel.

“Y/n!” you quickly recognize the American accent. Logan jogs to catch up with you.

“Hey, Logan. Sorry about qualifying, tough luck,” you smile sympathetically as he shrugs.

“Can’t do much when the car is slow. Congrats on the role, I’m glad you were able to find footing after not getting resigned,” he says, clearly aware of his uncertain future.

“There is still tomorrow,” you offer, hoping to reassure him a little.

“It was nice to see you drive again, you did some great laps. Was that an F1 car?” Logan asks, changing the topic.

“Modified F2 car. It was great, the car felt amazing,” you smile as Logan walks beside you. A small part of you hopes that a team will watch your drive and sign you.

“Well maybe one day you will get to drive one for real. After the race tomorrow we should go out for drinks,” Logan says, quickly adding on “you, me, and Oscar,” to the end.

“Sounds great, I missed you guys,” your car is parked in the opposite direction of Logan’s. You start walking away and Logan watches as you approach your car. As he is about to turn away, you turn back towards him. “Maybe we could grab drinks without Oscar sometime?” you yell, hoping you aren’t shooting the wrong shot and Oscar was right.

“I’d like that,” Logan calls back, his cheeks flushed. With a smile you turn back to your car, looking forward to the date.

You arrive to the Paddock early the next day, wanting to catch the F2 race. Trident invited you go visit, and you can’t deny you wanted to take the opportunity to network. It is also nice to catch up with your former team.

“Great drive, yesterday. You posted some pretty good times,” Maurizio compliments. You haven’t spoken much to your former team principal since you left F2.

“Thank you, it was nice to be behind the wheel again,” you take it gracefully, knowing there’s a fine line between demonstrating skill and boasting.

“Perhaps we can discuss a contract sometime,” he leaves you with those parting words and you can’t help but feel a buzz of excitement. You make sure to take your exit as soon as the race ends, not wanting to make anything awkward.

Earlier you received a text from someone at Mercedes telling you how to pick your paddock and hospitality pass. Lewis apparently asked them to invite you to watch from the Mercedes hospitality after your drive yesterday. So now you are on the hunt to find the hospitality.

“Fancy seeing you here,” you notice someone start walking beside you.

“Hey, Logan,” you don’t know why, but you can feel the heat of a blush creeping over your fac. “Don’t you have a race to prepare for?” You question, an attempt to distract him.

“I have time before the driver’s parade and I saw you out here,” Logan throws his arm around your shoulder.

“Lucky me, then. I was just on my way to Mercedes, want to show me where I’m going?” you smoothly ask, feeling your stomach flip in anticipation.

“That I can do,” he smiles down at you, happy to show you around. You make small talk as he points things out on your walk, and you don’t know any better so he takes you the long way.

“Hey, you are the girl in that F1 movie, the prodigy,” you instantly recognize Daniel Ricciardo. Logan is a little confused, not having many run-in’s with the VCARB driver, but he rolls with it.

“Yeah,” you nod, blushing from embarrassment. These guys are the best in the world and you are just imitating them.

“We drove in F2 together,” Logan interjects, causing Daniel to look at the two of you in surprise.

“Ah, sick! That’s so cool. Good to know there is a real driver in it. I gotta go but it was nice meeting you!” With that, the Honey Badger left, wearing his iconic smile.

“He is an interesting guy,” you can’t help but smile in amusement as you reflect on the interaction.

“You got that right. Have you met Alex and Lily? I’ll have to invite you to a race soon, give you a reason to hang around,” Logan says, turning up his flirting. He never got over his crush for you.

“I haven’t, and I hate to break the news, but Oscar called dibs on inviting me to the next race. Maybe you two can share custody,” you joke as you pass McLaren, only making it funnier.

The drop off at Mercedes was a bit rushed. Turns out, Logan lied about having plenty of time before the Driver’s Parade, but in his defense, he didn’t really look at a clock before stopping you. That was also how you met George Russell.

Unfortunately for Oscar and Logan, you had to cancel on post-race drinks. You got called back to the studio for an early shoot, meaning you left after the race and caught the next plane back to America.

The bright side is that there wasn’t a race the next week, so Logan took advantage and caught a flight to surprise you. He may be a guy, but he was able to pick up on the flirting the both of you were doing. Logan arrived at your hotel soon after you were done filming for the day, and knocked on the door. The only reason he knew your hotel room number is because he said he was going to doordash you food after the long few days.

“Thanks for bringing it to my room, here’s an extra-“ you stop mid sentence when you realize it isn’t a dasher at your hotel room door.

“I hope McDonald’s is okay? I’ve been craving fries,” he smiles, amused by your stunned reaction.

“I don’t know whether I want to cry or hug you,” you open the door wider so he can enter the room.

“This isn’t how I pictured our first date,” you comment after a few minutes of eating food that you probably shouldn’t be and watching comfort movies. Logan almost chokes on his fry.

“I’ll make it up to you then, take you out on a proper date,” he vows.

“I like this, though. Our lives are so crazy anyway,” you smile to yourself as he wraps an arm around you, letting you get closer to him. The both of you enjoy small talk throughout the movie, your head ending up on his shoulder, fighting off the sleep that threatens to creep in.

Logan hears your soft snores as the movie ends and quietly watches you. He ponders just falling asleep too, claiming you both dozed off during the movie, but it feels too soon. So, he carefully wakes you up so it seems like you didn’t doze off.

“I didn’t realize it was so late,” you comment, unsure if you fell asleep or not.

“I didn’t either. I should go, early flight and all that,” Logan grimaces, not ready to leave.

“Do you have a hotel room? You can stay here if needed,” you offer.

“No, no, it’s okay. I got a room for the night. I wouldn’t want to impose,”

“Well, I had a great time. I look forward to our next,” you smile, face close to Logan’s. He strongly debates kissing you, but he doesn’t want to screw this up, so he slowly pulls away.

“I do too. Sleep well,” with a boyish smile, he quietly exits. You lay back in the bed with a content sigh.

You and Logan dated quietly, not wanting to make a big deal out of things. The fans loved it when you hung out with him, Oscar, and some other drivers from your F2 days. They especially loved it when Trident announced you would be rejoining the team next season, right after filming finishes.

The best part about driving F2 was that you could skip a lot of the press tour stuff, but you did try. Somehow, you got Logan to agree to attend the London premiere with you. It was a big deal, all of the grid is expected to attend.

He is the first out of the car once you reach the red carpet, quickly making his way to your door so he can assist you out.

“Are you ready?” he asks with a slightly nervous smile. It’s your first public outing as a couple, despite your soft launching.

“With you? Always,” you confidently take the red carpet, answering questions and posing for cameras. At some point, Oscar and Lily join you both, happy to take group pictures.

“There is our star,” Oscar says when they arrive.

“Thank you for being here! I’m excited for everyone to see it,” you smile, a little on edge around so many Formula One legends. You swear you even saw Guenther Steiner walk past you.

“I didn’t know you two were dating,” George says once you make it inside where everyone is mingling.

“I convinced her somehow,” Logan smiles at you, clearly enamored.

“Well, you two look great together. Let’s get coffee sometime,” George says before walking away. Logan just signed with Mercedes, and you were so proud. He tried to play it down, but you made sure to celebrate it.

“How are you feeling?” Logan asks, his thumb caressing the back of your hand.

“A little nervous, it’s a great movie, but I’m nervous. There’s been some recent negativity because I’m a driver and starred in the movie. Something to do with pushing the female driver agenda,” you shift your weight back and forth. Logan pulls you close to him, providing a support as you take the moment to relax before starting your rounds again.

“Ah, there she is! Y/n, let me introduce you to some friends of mine,” Brad Pitt says as you walk past him with Logan. You stay for a minute before Logan provides an exit plan.

“I think we should head to our seats, don’t want to miss the movie,” he says, smoothly allowing you to leave and go into the theater. You are seated beside Lewis, who has mentored and coached you this season.

Before you know it, the movie is starting. The scene pans down from the sunset to your car flying on the track. As you turn the corner, an engineer is shown analyzing your data with a headset on. Silently, other motion to screens, nodding along with a comment. All you can hear is the roar of the engine on track as the engineer activates his radio.

“Box box,”

[willowsnook]

I see you (pt. 2)

max verstappen x reader

pt. 1 here

—————-five months later————————-

"I'm going to head out; I have to pick up y/n from the airport," Jackson (your brother) told Max, setting the controller on the coffee table.

"I haven't seen her in a while. Where was she?" Max asked curiously, thinking of the last time he was with you on the balcony right after his Monaco win.

"I haven't seen her either in a while, either," Jackson admitted. She quite literally disappeared for a few months. She checked in with my parents periodically, so I knew she was alive, but other than that, I had no idea what was going on. She called me yesterday to ask if I could pick her up. Do you want to come with me?"

"Would that be weird?" Max asked, unsure. Of course, he wanted to see you but didn't want to overstep. Jackson waved his hand, dismissing Max's worries.

You stepped off the plane as a completely different person than you were five months ago. Your doubts and concerns then were on target; you weren't happy with how things had turned out for you. It seemed like you were now finally seeing the world in color.

Smiling widely, you moved towards your brother and Max, who were both looking at you with somewhat shocked impressions. Your brother held you in his arms tightly, not saying anything as he tried to keep his emotions in check.

"Where were you?" He asked once you pulled away.

"LA," you replied, wrapping your arms around Max to hug him. He held you tightly, like he was afraid you'd leave again if he let go, and your brother gave him a wary look.

"You were there the whole time? Why didn't you call?" Jackson demanded, trying to keep the evident anger out of his voice.

"I needed to get away for a little bit," you said softly as you turned back to him. "I'm sorry that I didn't call, but it was something that I had to do by myself."

Jackson kept grumbling to himself as he grabbed your bag, and you followed him towards the parking lot. Max fell in step next to you, shooting you a small smile.

"You look good schatje," he said and you smiled. "Like you're glowing."

"I feel good," you told him.

As you got into the car, you couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness. You knew they would have questions and were ready to share what had happened.

"So, what exactly were you doing in LA for five months?" Jackson asked, glancing at you in the rearview mirror.

You took a deep breath. "I was interning at ESPN."

Both Jackson and Max turned to look at you, surprise evident on their faces.

"ESPN?" Max repeated, a smile tugging at his lips.

You nodded, feeling a rush of pride. "Yeah. I... After Monaco, I realized that I needed to make a change. I wasn't happy, and I knew I had to follow my passion. So I quit my job, ended things with Sam, and applied for an internship program in sports journalism."

Jackson's grip on the steering wheel tightened. "You broke up with Sam? Also, where am I taking you? Still your apartment?"

"Uhh no, a hotel would be good," you said, and Max shook his head.

"You can stay with me for now, just until you find a place," he said.

"I don't want to intrude," you protested, but he gave you a look and said he wasn't taking no for an answer. "But yeah, I ended things with him the day after the race and honestly was reassured I was making the right decision when he didn't really seem upset. It was more like he was inconvenienced by it."

"Good, I didn't like him," Jackson said.

"Me either," added Max, and you rolled your eyes.

"So what are you doing now?"

"Actually covering F1. I finished up that program, and they wanted to keep me on, but I mentioned that I lived in Monaco, so they moved me to that team," you told them excitedly.

"I'm so proud of you, y/n. This will be so good for you," your brother said warmly.

He helped bring your stuff up to Max's apartment and Max showed you to the guest room and other things that you had never paid attention to when you were here before.

As you settled into Max's guest room, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over you. The past five months had been a whirlwind of change and self-discovery, and now you were back in Monaco with a renewed sense of purpose.

"So, when do you start your new job?" Max asked, leaning against the doorframe.

"Next week," you replied, a mix of excitement and nervousness in your voice. "I'll be covering the Austin race."

Max's eyes lit up. "That's great!"

You nodded, smiling. "Yeah, it'll be my first time covering a race professionally. It's a bit intimidating, to be honest."

Max stepped into the room, his expression softening. "Hey, you'll be amazing. You know more about F1 than most people I know."

"Thanks, Max," you said, and he shifted nervously as if just realizing that you would be living with him now.

"I'll let you get settled in," he said awkwardly before leaving you alone.

The next couple of days were weird between you and Max. It was like he didn't know how to act around you, which you found both amusing and irritating at the same time. The day before you were both heading to Texas, you came home to see Max and Charles playing a video game in the living room.

"Hi, Charles," you greeted as you walked in, and he hopped off the game to hug you.

"It's so good to see you, mon cheri," he said, and you giggled. Max watched the interaction and frowned at how close the two of you were.

As Charles released you from the hug, you noticed Max's frown deepening. You wondered if there was some tension between the two drivers you weren't aware of.

"So, are you excited for Austin?" Charles asked, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "I hear it's your first race as an official journalist."

You nodded, unable to contain your smile. "I am! It's a bit nerve-wracking, but I'm really looking forward to it."

"You'll do great," Charles assured you, then turned to Max with a smirk. "You better be nice to her in the interviews, Max. No grumpy faces."

Max rolled his eyes, but you noticed a slight flush creeping up his neck. "I'm always nice," he muttered.

You couldn't help but laugh at their banter. "Don't worry, I can handle grumpy drivers any day."

Charles went back to the couch to restart the game, and you put away your stuff and changed back into comfy clothes before coming out to join them. You sat between the two boys and scrolled mindlessly on your phone as they played. Charles talked your ear off while Max sat there quietly, making you concerned. When Charles went up to go to the bathroom, you turned to him.

"Are you okay?" You asked, and he looked over to you, eyebrows furrowed.

"I'm fine, I just didn't realize that you liked Charles that much," he said and you gave him a confused look.

"What do you mean?"

"Just feel like I'm third wheeling, that's all," he said, and you started to get annoyed.

"Are you being serious right now?" You asked, and he didn't say anything, looking back at the game. Huffing, you got up and went to your room, slamming the door just as Charles came back into the living room.

"What happened there?" He asked carefully, and Max let out a big sigh, looking at the ceiling.

Max ran a hand through his hair, frustrated with himself. "I messed up," he admitted to Charles.

Charles raised an eyebrow. "What did you do?"

"I... I got jealous," Max confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "When I saw you two so close, I just... I don't know. I said something stupid."

Charles's eyes widened in understanding. "Max, you know Y/N and I are just friends, right? We've known each other for years through her brother."

Max nodded, feeling foolish. "I know, I know. It's just... seeing her again, having her here... it's bringing up a lot of feelings I thought I'd buried."

Charles sat back down, his expression softening. "You like her, don't you? Like, really like her."

"It was easy to control when she was with that guy, but now that she's not…" he trailed off.

"You should talk to her," Charles advised. "Clear the air before you both leave for Austin."

"We'll see," Max said, ending the conversation.

The next morning was awkward, to say the least. You gave Max the silent treatment as the two of you rode together to the airport, where you were flying with him to the US.

You settled in on the plane, pulling out your book and planning on reading for most of the flight. Max sat across from you and was eyeing you.

"Y/n," he tried, and you looked up from the book. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine," you said tightly, and he sighed, dejected. He started to say something else, but you looked back to your book, trying to ignore him, so he kept his mouth shut. The flight was long and felt even longer, with tension brewing between the two of you.

By the time you reached the hotel, you were exhausted, and the person at the front desk was having trouble finding your reservation.

"I'm sorry, Ms. y/l/n, there isn't any reservation for you here," the receptionist said apologetically.

"It was supposed to be booked by my employer. Can you check again?" You asked exasperated. "Or do you have a room I can book for the night?"

"I'm sorry, we're all booked up for the race," she told you and you put your head down on the desk, trying to think of what to do. A hand gently touched your back and you looked up to see Max looking at you concerned.

"What's going on?" he asked, and you explained the situation. "Okay, just stay with me."

You wanted to argue, but there really was no other option you could find, so you nodded and let him grab your bag off the ground. His room was very impressive, which made sense considering who he was, but of course, it only had one bed. Both of you stood staring at it for a minute before he finally spoke.

"I can take the pullout couch," he offered, but you sighed, shaking your head.

"It's a big bed, we can both fit."

The tension between you and Max was palpable as you both got ready for bed. You tried to keep your eyes averted as he changed into pajama pants and a t-shirt, but you couldn't help sneaking a glance at his toned physique.

When you emerged from the bathroom in your own sleepwear, you caught Max quickly looking away. An awkward silence fell as you both climbed into opposite sides of the large bed.

"Goodnight," you murmured, turning off the lamp on your nightstand.

"Night," Max replied softly.

You lay in the darkness, hyper-aware of Max's presence just inches away. Despite your lingering annoyance at his behavior earlier, you couldn't deny the nervous flutter in your stomach at being so close to him.

Sleep eluded you as your mind raced. You kept replaying Max's jealous comments, trying to figure out where they were coming from. Hearing him shift in the bed restlessly brought you out of your thoughts, and you turned to face him.

"Max," you whispered, and his eyes opened.

"Yes?"

"What happened yesterday?"

He was silent for a moment before responding. "I didn't like seeing you with Charles like that."

You furrowed your brow, confused. "Max, Charles, and I are just friends. We've known each other for years, just like me and you."

"I know, I know," Max said quickly. "I don't have a good reason; I just didn't like it. Now, can you stop being mad at me?"

"I suppose," you said with a small sense of relief, knowing you could return to normal. "Now, goodnight for real this time."

"Goodnight schatje," he murmured and it was the last thing you heard as you drifted off.

Max woke first the following day, keeping his eyes closed for a moment, enjoying the weighted blanket that must have come with his hotel room. But then the blanket moved and his eyes quickly opened to see that you had your head on his chest, half of your body draped over his.

Max's heart raced as he realized the position you were in. He didn't want to wake you, but he also knew things would be awkward if you woke up like this. Carefully, he tried to shift away, but you only clung tighter in your sleep, nuzzling your face into his chest.

He couldn't help but smile at how peaceful you looked. A strand of hair had fallen across your face, and he gently brushed it back without thinking. The slight touch caused you to stir, and Max held his breath as your eyes fluttered open.

For a moment, you seemed disoriented, then your eyes widened as you realized where you were. You quickly rolled away, your face flushing red.

"I'm so sorry," you mumbled, avoiding eye contact.

"It's okay," Max said softly, trying to keep his voice steady. "I, uh, am going to get ready."

You were embarrassed as you got ready for the day and even more embarrassed about how much you had enjoyed waking up in Max's arms. God, you had to get it together.

You bid Max goodbye as you made it to the track to meet up with the rest of the crew and get started for the day. It was a great first day. Most of the drivers already knew you because of your racing connection, which made it easy to get them to open up for you when interviewing. By the next day, all your first-race jitters had faded, and you felt confident about what you were doing.

For FP1, you really didn't have anything to do besides watch and then head to the media pen afterward. You were chatting with a colleague, half paying attention to the screen, when it seemed like a panic went up around you. Focusing on the screen, you could see Max off the track and slamming into the barriers.

The sickening crunch of metal echoed through the speakers. For a moment, everything seemed to move in slow motion.

"Max!" you gasped, your hand flying to your mouth.

The camera zoomed in on the wreckage, smoke billowing from the crumpled Red Bull. You held your breath, scanning desperately for any sign of movement from the cockpit.

Seconds felt like hours as you waited for Max to emerge. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, you saw him climb out of the car. Relief flooded through you, but it was short-lived as you noticed him limping slightly before collapsing. Stewards quickly surrounded him, and the medical team reached him, but you felt like you were about to be physically ill.

He was loaded into an ambulance and driven away. You found the nearest bathroom to try to catch your breath and collect yourself before returning to your job. You felt like you were going through the motions for the rest of the day. Your questions during the media's time were half-hearted, and some of the drivers, specifically Charles, noticed them.

As you wrapped up for the day he found you in the paddock and with one look at your teary eyes, dragged you to a private area near the Ferrari garage.

"He's okay, y/n," Charles consoled as you let out a shaky breath.

"I don't know what's wrong with me," you said, starting to feel like you couldn't breathe.

"Okay, okay, let's sit down. I think you're having a little panic attack," Charles said worriedly, guiding you to a nearby chair. He knelt down in front of you. "Breathe with me, y/n, okay?"

You nodded and took a deep breath, matching his, and slowly, you started to feel your heart slowing down.

"Why don't we go see him?" Charles suggested, and you agreed, following him through the paddock. You were done for the day with work but still texted your colleague since you would miss dinner.

Charles held your hand as you got a ride to the hospital, and you felt relieved. You could hear Max joking with one of his team members from the hallway. Charles walked in first, and Max smiled at him before his eyes settled on you, and he frowned.

“Schatje, what’s wrong?” He asked, and you bit your lip to keep your tears from spilling over. He slid off the bed, holding out his arms, which you crumpled into. Charles gave him a knowing look as he waved and backed out of the room with the other person, leaving you two alone.

"I was so scared," you whispered into him, and Max held you tightly, his hand gently stroking your back as you buried your face in his chest. He could feel you trembling slightly against him.

"Hey, it's okay," he murmured softly. "I'm alright, just a bit banged up. Nothing serious."

You pulled back slightly to look at him, your eyes scanning his face. There was a small cut above his eyebrow and some bruising starting to form, but otherwise, he seemed okay. Still, the image of him collapsing after getting out of the car was seared into your mind.

"When I saw you fall after getting out of the car, I just..." you trailed off, shaking your head.

Max's expression softened. He reached up to cup your face, his thumb gently wiping away a stray tear. "I'm sorry I scared you. It was just the adrenaline wearing off."

You stared at him, and in that moment, it all clicked. Was this what it felt like? True, unconditional love? Love so strong that the thought of it being ripped away would break you in half? You couldn't even remember when you had felt your feelings as strong as this.

"What's going on in that pretty little head?" Max asked softly, his brows furrowing.

"Did you ever hear about that time when Sam fell off the boat at night last summer?" You asked, and Max shook his head, so you continued. "Everyone told me it was amazing how calm I was, and they were right. I was calm. He could have died, it was dark, and we could have easily lost sight of him, but everything I did was what I knew I was supposed to do. I didn't jump over the railing after him because that would have been stupid, and nothing was screaming at me to do that."

You took a breath before meeting his intense gaze again.

"I would jump over the railing for you, Max. I would do it knowing that I might go down with you because the alternative would be living without you, and I'm not interested in living in that world. You saw me for who I was that night before I left. No one saw I was a shell of a person and had been for a long time except for you. I didn't want to admit what I had felt for you then because I wanted to learn how to enjoy being alone, but watching you crash today, I can't push my feelings down anymore."

Max stared at you, his blue eyes wide with emotion. For a moment, he seemed at a loss for words. Then, without warning, he pulled you close and pressed his lips to yours.

The kiss was soft at first, tentative as if he was afraid you might pull away. But when you responded eagerly, wrapping your arms around his neck, it deepened with a passion that left you breathless.

When you finally broke apart, Max rested his forehead against yours, his breath coming in short pants. "I've wanted to do that for so long," he whispered.

"Why didn't you?" you asked, your fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

Max sighed, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes. "I didn't think I stood a chance. You had your perfect life planned out, and I... I didn't fit into that plan."

You shook your head, a soft smile on your face.

"It wouldn't have been a perfect life if you weren't in it."

taglist: @leclercdream @freyathehuntress

[syzthefrizz]

Tips for writing dream sequences (from someone who has really vivid, weird dreams on a frequent basis)

My biggest pet peeve with fictional dream sequences is that they make too much sense!! They're too relevant! There's not enough random crazy stuff! That's not always unrealistic per se, but you are missing out on some of the fun ways you can reveal information about your character's mindset, fears, struggles, and future.

Most of my dreams have a goal or objective driving the plot, and it's usually urgent. Ex. "escape the huge storm on the horizon", "find a place to sleep for the night in an unfamiliar town", "find a bathroom". This is especially true of stress dreams.

Everything going on in the dream makes perfect sense to you during the dream. It doesn't feel like reality per se, but you think it is. You're living in a house full of vampires that could eat you at any moment? Seems legit.

Emotions and situations from the dreamer's life can/will find their way into dreams, with varying levels of subtlety. The dream could be about the stressful event itself, or it could be some sort of exaggerated metaphor. Ex. I was worried about whether I was a competent CS major while I was still trying to find a summer job/internship, and I was worried about what my professors must think of me. Such a good student on paper, still without summer plans. I dreamed that I ran into my professors all having lunch together at a restaurant (during a dream with a completely different storyline), and I was wearing my pajamas. They judged me.

Certain things are very hard to do in dreams. This could vary from person to person. For me, it's always driving (the brakes never work right), flying (I can't stay off the ground for very long), and running (it's like trying to run through waist-deep water).

People with PTSD may dream about the traumatic event happening differently than it actually happened. (Take this one with a grain of salt - I don't suffer from PTSD, I just research it sometimes so my blorbos can suffer accurately).

You can have a string of loosely connected or disconnected dream sequences back to back, each with an entirely different plot, setting, etc.

People can have reoccurring themes or plotlines in their dreams, which are often connected to their lives/psyche somehow. I frequently dream about running away from tornadoes and being in situations where there's some catastrophe coming but I'm the only one who understands that there's a problem and nobody will listen to me.

It's common for me to have a dream setting that I KNOW is someplace I'm familiar with, but it doesn't actually look like that place at all. Ex. "I dreamed that we were at my house, but it didn't look like my house..."

Dreams can end in cliffhangers. Sometimes I wake up right before I'm about to eat something delicious.

Sometimes people have dreams about doing things that they would never, ever do in real life, and they wake up feeling disgusted. This is Not a manifestation of their secret desires (*glares at Freud*).

Images are the most memorable parts of dreams. I forget the specific plot points, but I can still picture dozens of liminal spaces my brain has created, even years after I dreamed about it.

Dreams will fade from memory very quickly unless the dream had a strong impression on you, you write details about it down or you tell someone about it before you forget.

If you realize you're dreaming during your dream, sometimes you can control the dream going forward. This is called lucid dreaming. I've done it accidentally a couple times, and it's really hard to "hold on" to the dream and control it. I usually wake up soon after starting. With practice, you can get better at it.

Sometimes a normal/good dream can turn into a nightmare, and vice versa. Most of my dreams aren't really good or bad, they're something in between.

Your subconscious brain is CRAZY intuitive. We can argue over the existence of prophetic dreams (I've heard so many crazy stories), but at the end of the day, your subconscious brain knows things that you don't consciously know. If your character is in love with someone, their subconscious brain will know even if the character doesn't. Relationship problems? Deepest darkest fears and insecurities? Your brain knows. A dream predicted the downfall of my first relationship eight months before it happened, down to the reason why we failed. You can absolutely foreshadow this way. A character might subconsciously know what the consequences of their or other people's actions will be, understand things about the situation they're in, know things about the people they're interacting with, and more, despite their conscious realizations.

There are plenty of ways to make a dream sequence relevant to your story, but don't forget to add in some fun, random details. Character A is secretly in love with Character B? Have Character A dream about Character B confessing feelings to them while in a Vine Nostalgia themed restaurant over a plate of mac-n-cheese. The details are the fun part, and you can get as weird as you want. I once ran into my aunt in a dream, and she was wearing a backpack with a bunch of (fake?) hands sticking out of it, making a fan that rose above her back behind her head like some sort of peacock feather costume piece. I was so freaked out that I woke up. I dare you to get weirder than that.

Not everyone's brain works the same way. I have vivid, random, detailed, memorable dreams on a frequent basis. When I describe them to people they often ask "what were you on?". My roommate only remembers her dreams when they're nightmares. I have some friends who say they don't dream. Other friends have really boring, mundane dreams about their normal lives. Some people have weird dreams but only once in a blue moon. It's a good idea to decide off the bat what kinds of dreams your character has, and how often they remember them.

That's it for now, but I might make a part two if I think of more things to add. Feel free to reblog with your own personal dream expertise!