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s-awturn · 1 month ago

Text

Other Plans || F1 Grid

cw: babies being cute, still a little anguish, overcoming, deliverance (hehehehe) and I don't know what else to say. Spanish, French, and some poorly translated Dutch, blame Google.

starring: LH44, CS55, CL16, LN4, OP81, MV1,

a/n: I rarely get requests for part 2, so don't judge me if I'm excited here. I loved writing the first part and I hope to make the second part just as good.

f i r s t p a r t

LEWIS HAMILTON.

You never regretted leaving.

As you might have guessed, Lewis never called or cared and even though you knew he wouldn't call, it didn't hurt any less. You had hopes that he would care, that he would come around, but he never took a step towards you and you wouldn't make the first move. You and the baby — a healthy, restless girl —didn’t need him.

The first few months were not easy, by God, dealing with all the changes of pregnancy, the demands of work, as well as cleaning and organizing your home was the hardest thing in the world.

But it was all worth it when you held your little girl in your arms for the first time. Bree was beautiful and had powerful lungs, because she cried so loudly when you laughed with happiness at having her. Not even the fact that she had the same eyes as Lewis shook his happiness. She was yours, and nothing in the world would change that.

You, your mother and Bree were walking down one of the streets of London looking for Christmas decorations, Bree was on your lap, looking at everything curiously, you hadn't taken her to London yet, both because you wanted her to get used to the climate and the quiet life in Naples and because of fear, you still didn't feel ready to face Lewis, because you knew he was always in England, mainly in the capital.

“Mamma, look!” she pointed to the store across the street, with the Christmas decorations you were looking for. You gave a proud smile and kissed her cheek.

“Good job, little bee, let’s go get our colorful balls from Santa Claus” you crossed the street and due to carelessness, you ended up tripping over someone. “Oops, sorry, I didn’t y-...” you started to say, however your voice trailed off as you recognized fucking Lewis Hamilton.

“Y/N?” His eyes, identical to Bree’s, widened as he recognized you and the baby in your arms. You straightened up, hugging Bree against you.

“Lewis, how are you?” you said cordially, but there was no sympathy in your voice.

“Mhmm, Well, I'm fine... And you?”

“Wonderfully,” you remained impassive. “Well, Merry Christmas, Lewis,” you said, walking past him until your name was called by the pilot.

“I thought you would give me news...” he hesitated for a few seconds “news about her” Lewis’ eyes fell on Bree, who was looking at him with the same curiosity.

“And why should I, Lewis? You said you didn’t want to have a baby, that it would hinder your career.” You hit a nerve with Lewis, because since your departure, he couldn't help but wonder if he had done the right thing. “I had no obligation and have no obligation to give you news about my daughter.”

He came closer and you kept Bree away from him, you accepted and healed from the pain Lewis caused you, but you wouldn't allow him to do the same to your sweet little girl. Bree didn't deserve to be hurt by Lewis's selfishness.

“She’s mine too, Y/N, you can’t stop me from seeing her” he said and you finally lost your patience, so you asked your mother to take Bree to the store, you would meet them in a few minutes.

“Don’t use that horrible argument with me, Lewis Hamilton!” you pointed your finger in his face. “You made it clear that you didn’t want her! You never called to find out about her, not for me or my mother, so don’t come with ‘she’s mine too’ because I won’t fall for that! You didn't even think twice before saying you didn't want her! And now you want to demand your rights? What the fuck rights do you think you have?”

He took a step back, Lewis didn't expect you to have such an intense outburst of anger.

“Y/N, I-I wanted to turn things around, go after you,” he bit his lip, thinking about how to continue, “but I was embarrassed... But now I'm willing-...”

“But I’m not willing, Bree doesn’t need you, I don’t.” you said emphatically “My daughter doesn’t need you, your regret or anything that comes from you!”

He tried to articulate some sentence, but no sound came out of his mouth.

“Oh, that is if you have any shame, of course. But don’t worry, when Bree grows up, I’ll tell her about you and she’ll decide whether she wants you in her life or not.” You assured “Until then, continue being the ghost you have been for these two years”

And without giving him a chance to respond, you follow your mother and Bree into the store, trying to ignore the panic that was ravaging your entire body, you felt like you were about to faint. But hearing Bree's spontaneous, sweet laugh was like feeling a cool breeze on a hot day; you didn't know how, but you were sure that Lewis would stay away.

And you didn't lie, Bree didn't need him, and neither did you. Your job was more than enough to maintain and take care of all of Bree's needs, you didn't lie when you said he wasn't needed, in nothing.

Finally you could sleep peacefully knowing that Lewis was what he wanted to be in your lives, a shadow.

On the sidewalk, Lewis saw you enter the store and through the window, he could see you and Bree together, it was clear how much the little girl was loved and well cared for. Lewis tried to imagine what the two years he had lost of his life, of the life of the daughter whose name he didn't even know, had been like. He thought of all the little moments he had missed.

There were few things Lewis truly regretted in his life, and letting you go and not being able to see Bree grow up was, without a doubt, the biggest regret he carried.

CARLOS SAINZ.

Sometimes you wondered how you had the courage to consider the idea of giving your twins up for adoption. You weren't lying when you said that the twins were the best part of your life. At five years old, the identical twins made your days in the French capital — the city you moved to after breaking up with Carlos — much happier and more joyful.

You didn't even care if the two of them were little carbon copies of the Carlos; Santiago, the older twin, seemed to have inherited much of Carlos' personality, he was a little reserved and even shy and loved board games, preferred books to any electronic game and loved football, while Martín had a lot of you in him, expansive and restless, your youngest son loves logic games like Rubik's cube and puzzles and was completely addicted to any kind of racing.

And they were little fanatical Atlético de Madrid fans, which you found sweet irony.

And it was this love for the Spanish club that convinced you to take them to Spain, so that the two could watch the Madrid Derby at the Cívitas Metropolitano, Atlético's official stadium in the city of Madrid. Thanks to your work as a digital influencer, you could give your twins the experience of watching the game directly from the stadium's box.

“C'est le meilleur cadeau d'anniversaire au monde! Merci maman!” (This is the best birthday present in the world! Thanks mommy!) Martín said, hugging you before running to the fence and seeing the field, where the players were warming up.

“Tu es la meilleure au monde, maman” (You are the best in the world, mommy) Santiago said before joining his brother at the railing. You sat down next to Andie.

“I didn’t think you were serious when you said you were going to bring them to Madrid just to watch the game,” her best friend said, also keeping her eyes on the twins.

“It’s their birthday and I had to come to Madrid anyway for work, so I thought I could combine business with pleasure... And I don’t plan on stopping my boys from having good experiences because of Carlos.”

In five years, you never received a text or call from Carlos to see how the twins were doing, or to see how you were handling things. Since their birth, it had been you, the twins, and Andie —she moved to Paris as well. You weren't lying, the first few months were horrible, you truly believed that you wouldn't be a good mother or be able to take care of two babies at the same time.

But Andie was an angel to you and your boys, helping you through the best and worst times. So much so that before long, Carlos was just an old and unwanted memory in your life.

When the game went into halftime, you and Andie took the boys to the snack bar in the box to get something to eat. You hadn't noticed that you were being watched since you entered the diner, Carlos had seen you, Andie and the boys entering. The pilot didn't expect to find you there, especially with two boys who looked like they were five years old.

Without thinking twice, he approached, keeping his eyes on the boys who wore Atlético shirts and their names on the back.

Santiago and Martín.

“Y/N?” he said fearfully, catching her attention. Carlos saw surprise flash in her eyes, but as quickly as it appeared, it was replaced by icy indifference. "How long"

“That’s right, it’s been a long time.” You placed your hands on the boys’ shoulders, aware that they were both shocked.

“C'est Carlos Sainz” Martín spoke softly to Santiago with wide eyes, not that Carlos was his favorite pilot, but the boy didn't expect you to know the pilot.

“These are Martín and Santiago, my sons.” You said, introducing the boys, watching the astonishment appear on Sainz’s face.

“What’s up guys? Enjoying the game?” he said, after a few seconds of shock. You knew what was going on in his head, Carlos was doing the math.

“We don’t talk to Real Madrid fans,” Santiago said with indifference and pulled Martín away from Carlos. You were so surprised that you laughed out loud, watching Carlos’ discomfort grow even more.

“I’m going after the brats and… And I think you guys need to talk,” Andie said, following the twins back to the to their seats.

You turned completely to Carlos, for a long time you missed him, especially when you wanted him to see the boys' first steps or when they spoke for the first time. You wanted him to see how special and good your children were, but he never cared.

It took a while, but eventually it stopped hurting.

Since then, all you felt was pity, because Martín and Santiago were absurdly adorable, loving and incredible children, anyone who could have them in their lives was lucky as hell.

“I didn't think I would go through with the pregnancy" he said and you sighed.

“And I wasn’t going to, but everything changed when I held them in my arms for the first time... I knew I could never leave them” you said and a smile appeared on your face.

“My parents would love to meet you... I would like to-” He starts to say but you interrupt him, already tired of that conversation.

“You wouldn’t like anything, Carlos, you have nothing to offer my boys but abandonment and cowardice,” you replied harshly.

He swallowed hard, Carlos looked embarrassed and regretful, but you didn't care, just like he didn't care about leaving you alone in that hospital.

“Y/N please understand, I wasn’t ready and-”

“I wasn’t either, Carlos,” you interrupted him, having no patience for his excuses. “I was simply thrown alone, in the middle of the hurricane, so if that’s your excuse, improve it.”

Your gaze towards him was hard, there really was nothing that could justify abandoning him.

“If it weren’t for Andie, I don’t even know where I would be right now! Maybe they’d both be in an orphanage or something, living on the streets.” Your voice was forceful, punishing, and accurate. “I almost, almost acted like a coward with them too, but I remembered that they had already lost their father, they couldn't be without their mother too.”

Carlos hunched over slightly, like you had just hit him in the face and damn, he wished you had.

“I will tell them about you, everything they want to know and if they want to look for you, I will not stop them, but until then, do not think that your presence near them will be welcome”

And you went back to where Andie and the boys were, you were surprised to notice that Martín hadn't taken his eyes off you for a moment. Your protective little boy...

You swallowed a painful sigh and stopped the tears from welling up in your eyes.

“Est-ce qu'il t'a fait du mal, maman?” (Did he hurt you, mommy?) He asked as soon as you sat down, you gave a calm smile and denied.

“It’s okay, honey, don’t worry.” you assured, sliding your fingers through his hair, Martín kept his eyes on you. “Are you enjoying the game?”

“Damn!” he said excitedly and you narrowed your eyes.

“What language is that, young man?” you asked, and he smiled as if he had been caught red-handed.

“It was an accident, mommy... Don't be mad, please,” he asked, making the same lost puppy face that Carlos had. My God, you thought it was impossible for them to look so much alike, but the twins were in fact carbon copies of Carlos.

“Go watch the game, I’m watching you” he nodded and ran to Santiago’s side, you sighed and saw Andie sit next to you. “I thought it would be worse”

“Me too... But you did well, to be honest, I thought you were going to throw the chair at him” Andie confessed and you laughed.

“Almost... I'll tell them the truth when we get back to Paris... And I'll let them decide whether they want to approach him or not.” you said, trying to keep your nervousness from setting in ahead of schedule. You would deal with the consequences when they came, that moment was just about the boys, would not spoil it with anxious thoughts and nervousness.

On the other side of the box, Carlos couldn't pay attention to the game, his mind was divided between the game and you and the twins. Carlos thought about how selfish he had been, he thought about how he would like to go back in time and change everything, to be able to live every little moment with you and the boys.

Carlos would like to be less stupid, but there was no way anymore.

CHARLES LECLERC.

After almost seven years, you were back in France, your parents were asking — or demanding, depending on your point of view — that you and Vivienne spend Mother's Day in the south of France. It was the first time since Vivienne was born that you had returned to Europe and although you loved the feeling of being home again, you couldn't help but be apprehensive, after all you didn't know if you were prepared for the possibility of meeting Charles. But you didn't let those thoughts ruin Vivienne's experience, the girl looked like she was going to explode at any moment with so much happiness.

The two of you took the train from Paris to Bordeaux, and Vivienne couldn't tear herself away from the window, enchanted by the romantic landscape of the French countryside, she commented on every little thing, unable to contain the excitement that made her shine.

“Let’s go to the dining car, amour, You need to eat.” You called her, trying to attract the girl’s attention, who seemed much more interested in the castle that disappeared through the train window.

“Will there be croissants, maman?” Vivienne finally turned away from the window.

“Of course, amour. Let’s go before they eat it all, shall we?” you led her out into the hallway, Vivienne chattered on and on, listing the things she had liked the most so far, that's why she still made a point of greeting the other passengers.

“It’s more beautiful here than Montreal, Mom...”

“Would you like to live here?”

She stopped in the hallway for a few seconds before turning to you, the indecision was clear on her little face “I don’t think so, I would miss home... And my friends, but we can come on vacation?”

“We can come to France whenever possible, amour.” you assured her.

The dining car was half full, but that wasn't what caught his attention, but rather coming across such familiar crystal-clear eyes. You knew the chances of meeting Charles in France were 50-50, but you didn't expect it to happen so quickly; suddenly you remembered why you spent so long away from your homeland. You saw Charles' smile disappear and his gaze fall on the girl in front of him, who, although she didn't look exactly like him, carried many of Leclerc's features in her own features.

“Let's sit at the table by the window, okay maman?” Vivienne asked, skipping over to the empty table, she didn’t even look to the side as she passed Charles.

"Of course, papillon, (butterfly) we can sit wherever you want.” You said, thankful that your voice came out steady, without showing the mess that was inside you.

You made Vivienne sit with her back to Charles, listening to the girl talk excitedly about the fields full of vineyards and the lavender plantations. Vivienne knew from the age of five because it was just you and her, you didn't want to wait too long to tell her the truth behind why just you were the one who went to the Father's Day presentations at her school. You remembered the pain tearing through your chest as you comforted your little girl who went to sleep crying for weeks on end, or all the times she asked why her father didn't like her. You wouldn't let anything bring that pain to Vivienne again, even if you had to throw Charles Leclerc out the train window.

“You’re not the waiter.” Vivienne’s inquisitive voice snapped you out of your reverie and you looked up to find Charles standing next to your table. Panic spread through you like wildfire. Vivienne knew that the man standing next to the table was her father, you didn't do much to hide it. “If you’re not the waiter, why did you come?”

“You have your mother’s sharp tongue,” he said, and you noticed the shadow of a smile on his face. “I’m Charles—”

“Leclerc, I know, I watch TV” she said, crossing her fingers on the table, you blinked a little dazed and took control of the situation, Vivienne didn't need to face a situation like that, not with you around to protect her, as you had been doing since her birth.

“What do you want, Charles?” you questioned seriously, the seven years away from him made you create a strong shield against the pilot's charm. He swallowed the lump in his throat and looked at you, there was no anger or contempt in his gaze, it had taken you the same seven years to understand that it had all been a huge failure in communication, however, that did not allow this to cause any more harm to Vivienne.

“I...” he stuttered, his gaze going from you to Vivienne without stopping “I came to greet you and...” he left the sentence hanging in the air, waiting for you or your daughter to reveal her name.

“You don’t need to know my name,” Vivienne said and your eyes widened.

You saw Charles' mouth open in pure astonishment, if you weren't expecting an answer like that, imagine him.

“What do you want, Charles? I don’t remember inviting you to join us,” you teased, enjoying his discomfort. You could forgive what had happened years ago, after all it wasn't anyone's fault he didn't want kids, but you fucking couldn't forget how it destroyed Vivienne for weeks. “Your girlfriend is waiting for you, and you are disturbing us.”

“Y/N I wanted to say that I'm sorry that all of this happened and...” his voice becomes a weak and distant thread, you just shake your head and raise your hand.

“There is nothing to be forgiven, Charles. That's in the past, there's no reason to bring it up again," you said sincerely, letting out a tired sigh. You wanted it to end soon, you wanted to get to Bordeaux soon. “Forget about it, leave everything in the past and go back to your girlfriend, we've been fine the last seven years without you, the next seven will be even easier, don't waste time worrying about us, we don't need you.”

He hadn't meant to be cruel or rude, but he wouldn't allow a sliver of it to reach Vivienne. Charles just nodded and walked away, you looked at Vivienne, who had tears in her eyes.

“Ma princesse,” you grabbed her hand, watching the little girl swallow her tears and give a weak smile.

“It’s okay, mom, I have you, it’s okay,” she said and went back to looking at the landscape through the window. You noticed that Charles had left. “I don’t need a father who didn’t want me”

You left the chair you were in and went to hug Vivienne, letting the girl feel how much she was loved, how much she didn't need Charles “I'm so proud of you, darling, so proud”

Outside, Charles was hyperventilating, he hadn't expected it to end like this, nor had he expected it to feel like a punch to his stomach. Suddenly, he questioned whether the choices he had made over the past seven years were good. But it didn't matter anymore, he had lost you and any chance of having... Having a family he never wanted.

It was already too late.

LANDO NORRIS.

Jordan looked at the cupcake with bright eyes, you wanted to cry when you saw the smile on your little boy's face. It was late afternoon and you wanted Jordan to be able to celebrate his first birthday on the beach, creating sand castles and playing with water.

“Happy birthday, my baby, I wish you to be blessed with happiness and love throughout your life.” you whispered, helping him blow out the candle. Jordan chuckled, grabbing the icing, smearing the blue sweetness all over his face. You let Jordan play in the sand and thought about everything that led them to that little beach in Spain.

After breaking up with Lando and receiving a court order that he didn't want to be related to you or the baby, you didn't know what to do with your life, I had a college degree, good internship experiences, but no one would hire a pregnant woman. With limited options and no support network, you've relied on the most unstable form of work: the internet. Your life wasn't the most glamorous or adventurous in the world, but people enjoyed watching you. You didn't care about fame or being known in places, you just wanted to make sure you could take care of the baby, make sure he always had a roof over his head and food on the table. No matter what shit you would do to make sure Jordan lacked for nothing.

Anything but crawling after Lando, begging for help or whatever the hell he could give.

You let Jordan play until he got tired, and only when the boy was almost asleep in the sand, you picked him up and decided to go back to the hotel. You balanced Jordan on your lap as you searched for your room key when you heard your name being called. You didn't expect to find Lando Norris in the lobby of the hotel you were staying at.

Not even by a miracle.

“What do you want here, Norris?” you asked, but you didn’t give him time to answer, you just continued on your way to the elevator. You heard him follow you and kept Jordan out of his sight.

“I want to talk to you,” he said tentatively. You stood in the opposite corner of the elevator, as far away from Lando as possible. “Is it his birthday?”

“And why does that matter to you, Norris? You’re nothing to him,” you said dryly, giving him a hard look.

He didn't even know what to answer, you couldn't understand what he was doing there, not after a year and seven months, not after that damn letter. What did he want there? Guarantee you wouldn't ask him for money? Ridiculous.

“If you want to know if I need your money, don’t worry, we don’t need anything from you”

Lando exhaled, you wouldn't give him a step, leaving him frustrated.

“I didn’t come for this... I know you’re... You’re dealing with everything well, I wanted...”

“What do you want, Norris? To see if I'm trying to scam someone to support my son? Being a gold digger?”

“Y/N I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that, been...”

“What do you regret? Saying that I got pregnant so you could support me? That I wanted to pull the pregnancy scam on you? Or have you come to give me another court notice to deny your parentage with Jordan? If that's the case, don't worry, if it's up to me, your name will never be on Jordan's birth certificate.”

If shame had a portrait, it would be Lando's face.

“Please understand my side...”

“Your side, Norris? I was pregnant and you sent me away!!” you growled, trying not to wake Jordan in your arms. “I didn’t want money, I wanted support! I wanted you!”

You scoffed at the tears in his eyes, none of them made up for the times you cried alone, scared of the uncertain future you could have. If he thought you would be moved by his crying, he couldn't be more wrong. The elevator doors opened and you walked out, not caring about him following you.

“I’m sorry, I was scared!”

“I was too!” you lost your patience and heard Jordan’s whimpers. “Were you scared? Don’t be a hypocrite, Lando.”

“Let me... Let me apologize, let me take care of you two.”

“You can swallow your apologies, they’re worth nothing to me or Jordan, and as for your care…” you laughed “I won’t tell you what to do with it out of respect for my son.”

And with that, you slammed the door in his face. Hoping that Lando would go back to the same place he had come from.

MAX VERSTAPPEN.

Just as nothing hurt you more than Max's distrust, Annelise's birth healed you in immeasurable ways. The little girl became the little Sun in your world, illuminating corners you thought you would no longer visit after the breakup with Max.

When you left his house in Monaco, you spent a few days on standby, thinking about what to do, you had no one else to support you. You didn't know how, but before you knew it, you were standing on Sophie's doorstep in Belgium, you didn't expect to have the support of your ex-mother-in-law, but Sophie welcomed you with open arms, outraged by Max's attitude.

Sophie welcomed you as if you were her own daughter, helped you choose an apartment in Brussels — even though she wanted you to stay with her for as long as it took, she helped you in the first few months after Annelise was born.

Now, two years later, Annelise was spending so much time at her grandmother's house that Sophie had set up a room for her.

“Sophie, for God’s sake, don’t spoil Anne like that,” you scolded her, seeing the woman click her tongue and shrug, you knew your sermons would do no good, Sophie would continue buying gifts for Annelise.

“Nah, it’s nothing big and you know I’m not stopping any time soon,” she admitted, bouncing the little girl on her lap, Annelise was very entertained by the new teddy bear Sophie had brought. “How was the job interview? Did you get the job?”

You had applied for a job at the health center near your home, the hours were great, the pay was worth it, you just needed to find someone to look after Sophie.

“I was selected, but I need to find a good nanny to take care of Anne...”

“Y/N don’t be silly, you know I will take care of Anne with the greatest pleasure, I love taking care of her.”

“Sophie, I don’t want to give you any trouble...” you started to try to argue.

“Mom! I’m home... Y/N?” you saw Max standing in the middle of the room, staring at you in surprise, then looking at Annelise on Sophie’s lap.

“Max, you didn’t tell me you were coming, come in, I made your favorite cake, go get it from the kitchen, dear” Sophie said, she knew you weren’t ready to talk to Max yet, but the Dutchman had different plans.

You held your arms out to Annelise, who didn't think twice before jumping into your lap, you did your best to avoid Max's gaze.

“We’re going, Sophie... I’ll let you know when we get home,” you said in a whisper and crossed the room towards the exit, but Max grabbed your bicep, stopping you from leaving.

“We need to talk, Y/N... Just five minutes, please,” he said quietly, as soothingly as he could.

“We have nothing to talk about, Max.”

“Please, just five minutes,” he begged, giving Annelise a quick glance in his lap.

“Five minutes, no more.” You said, releasing your arm from his grip. “Sophie, can you take Anne please?”

“Of course, it’s no sacrifice for me, is it, mon bebé?”

Finally you and Max were alone, you were uncomfortable to the point that your skin felt itchy.

“I didn’t expect to see you here… I thought you would stay in Monaco”

“I had nothing to keep me in Monaco, I saw no reason to stay there, and Sophie welcomed me as if I were her daughter,” you said, putting your hands in your coat pockets. “Get to the point, Max, I have to go...”

He licked his lips nervously. “I wanted to talk about our daughter.”

“No, no, calm down, you don’t have a daughter, at least not with me, Annelise is my daughter and mine alone, your participation in her conception was purely accidental.” You said it without any emotion.

“I know I said stupid things that night, Y/N, but I want to make up for every single one of them, with you and with the girl” he said and you scoffed.

“Oh really? And what makes you think you have any right to her?”

“Y/N I’m her father” he said patiently, as he always was with you, until that night at least.

“Unless you request a DNA test, there is nothing to prove your paternity over Annelise,” you determined, taking a step towards him, “and don’t think I’m an idiot, Max, you always knew I was in Brussels with your mother, Sophie told you that the same day I arrived, because I highly doubt she didn't give you the biggest lecture of your life that night.”

He looked away, proving his point “and yet you never cared, you didn’t come to her birthday, or call when she had pneumonia, you didn’t even know her name until today, So please don't lie to me saying that you regret it or that you want to be a part of her life.”

You pressed your fingers to your temples, already feeling the pains of the inevitable migraine.

“Annelise will eventually find out about you, but until then, don't go near her, I won't allow you to be cruel to my daughter the way you were to me.” That was your final sentence before you went to get Annelise with Sophie. You didn't want to have to share oxygen with him any more than necessary. Max belonged to a past you didn't want to revisit.

He stood still in place, watching you leave with the girl, without giving you another look.

“There are stupid people, and then there’s you, Max,” Sophie said, approaching her son. “I find it absurd how you inherited Jos’s worst traits...”

He couldn't help but agree, Max was fucking dumb.

taglist: @spngi, @monacosprince, @camelliaflow3r, @simbaaas-stuff, @bsammy, @sabrinaselina55, @irenkaproszepana , @avni-sarai, @itsapurrfectstorm, @janeh22, @taliya8346282844eliviahdgdajs, @llvstrous099, @gotthemilk-69, @ladscarlett, @daemyratwst, @anewpersonthatexists, @loohs-world, @sarcastic-nerd

Some who requested to be tagged on the taglist unfortunately could not be located, if I forgot someone, please complain on ask, thank you, management.

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#f1 imagine #f1 #f1!angst #f1!fanfic #f1!headcanons #f1 grid x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #carlos sainz x reader #charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x reader #max verstappen x reader #sawturn

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likeumeanit9497 · 5 months ago

Note

i read ‘wanna see’ and it was so good i was wondering if you could ever make a part 2 to it?

keep crying baby | c.s. |

chris sturniolo x fem!reader

a (sorta) part two to wanna see?

summary: y/n and chris have been caught up in a tumultuous situationship with one another for a few months. y/n is fed up with chris' toxic behaviour and knows that she needs to stop, but why can't she?

warnings: smut; oral (fem receiving); p in v (unprotected eek); toxic chris; established fwb; alcohol consumption; dirty talk; choking; hair pulling; 18+

notes: a lot of u seemed to luv wanna see? and i was lowkey inspired to write a toxic chris fic after i heard him say "keep crying baby" on stream the other day (oop) soooo i decided to combine those two ideas into one and this is the outcome of that!! i hope y'all enjoy luv uuuuuuu

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

Walking into the party, I was immediately welcomed by loud music and the heat of bodies everywhere. Tonight I was once again going to a friend’s birthday party, and my eyes immediately scanned across the room in an attempt to find her. I had arrived late because I had been taking care of my sick roommate, Bree, and felt so guilty for missing so much of her night already.

Still scanning the house, I began walking towards the kitchen to find some drinks. Everyone around me was already clearly fucked up, and I knew I had some catching up to do. I grabbed a bottle of tequila that was sitting on the kitchen counter and poured myself a line of three shots to take back-to-back, a trick that had become sort of a habit for me. Just as I brought the first shot glass to my lips, a familiar voice stopped me in my tracks.

“There you are.” His voice was low, I could barely hear it above the loud music, but I could feel the heat of his breath brush against my ear. I stayed silent and took the first shot, wincing as the liquid burned my throat. “I’m sober Chris.” I deadpanned before grabbing the second shot, and I heard him chuckle behind me. “So?” He replied as I brought the second shot glass to my lips, tilting my head back and swallowing the tequila. “If my memory is correct, the last time I saw you we were not on good terms. Therefore I’m too sober to deal with you right now.” He laughed again, this time putting a hand on my lower back and rubbing it gently. “Alright. Let’s see how long you last this time.” He said into my ear one last time before the heat of his body against mine was replaced by a cold emptiness and I was once again alone.

I rolled my eyes before taking the third and final shot in front of me, needing the liquor more now than ever before. Ever since that first time we fucked at his birthday party, Chris and I had been involved in a sort of complicated relationship. I use the word relationship here lightly, as really the bottom line is that we were really just fucking, and usually only ever when we were drunk. The sex was good, but it was creating a sort of toxicity in our friendship that wasn’t there before.

Even though we both agreed that it was nothing more than sex and that our love for each other was strictly platonic, I have learned that Chris has a habit of becoming possessive of whoever he’s fucking at the moment. I can’t lie, this dominance is fun while we’re having sex, but outside of the bedroom it did nothing but cause problems. If he saw me even in the same vicinity of another man, he would do everything in his power to scare him off. The toxicity was so addictive, but each time I had a run in with him I felt myself lose more and more of my self control. I hated that I had let him dig his claws into me, and I despised the fact that he knew how dick whipped I was.

Sucking on a lime, I shuddered both from the liquor sitting heavy in my stomach and my thoughts of Chris, and decided to do a thorough walk through of the house to finally find my friend.

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

I reached for my phone in my back pocket, and through my blurry vision I saw the time read 1:43. I had been at the party for hours, and had spent the entire time drinking. Once I had found my friend, I had to pour us a round — or four — of tequila shots, and I had gone through a half dozen of the coolers in the fridge. Even though it was late, the house was still flooded with people. Each room was overflowing with bodies, and I had stumbled into the living room to take a seat and lay off the drinking before I reached the point of no return.

I flopped my body lazily on an empty couch cushion, and as I did I accidentally landed partially on a person sitting to my left. “Fuck, I’m sorry.” I slurred, turning my spinning head to acknowledge the guy. There was a deep chuckle, and once my eyes focused I discovered that I was face-to-face with a beautiful stranger. “Don’t worry about it.” I watched his full lips as he spoke, and resisted the urge to drool once he ran his tongue across his lower lip. Drunk and disoriented, I stayed completely silent as I stared blankly at his gorgeous face. “You okay?” He asked, pulling me from my trance. I nodded quickly. “Sorry yeah, what’s your name?” I asked, attempting to straighten myself out to look as presentable as possible. He smiled, his teeth pearly-white and straight. “I’m Benny. What’s yours?” I returned his smile and fixed my hair before reaching out my hand in an embarrassingly formal way. “I’m Y/n.” He looked at my ridiculous outstretched hand for a beat before taking it in his and shaking it quickly.

“You’re beautiful.” He said with a smirk, keeping my hand interlocked with his but letting it rest against my bare leg. Blushing, I adjusted in my seat and struggled to force myself to maintain eye contact. “So are you.” I replied shamelessly, taking in his sharp jawline and bright green eyes. “You here with anyone tonight?” He asked, shifting slightly closer to me. I shook my head and batted my eyelashes slightly, causing him to send me a pleased smile as he wrapped his free arm around my shoulder against the couch; using his hand that rested on my leg to brush against my skin.

Just then, I allowed my eyes to leave his and take a quick glance around the room, only for them to fall on the figure sitting in the chair directly across from me.

There was Chris, slouched nonchalantly in the chair with his legs spread and a beer sitting in his lap. There was a girl sitting beside him, enthusiastically talking to him as he stared straight at me. Everything about his outward demeanour seemed relaxed and confident, but his clenched jaw and flaring nostrils told me all I needed to know about what was going on inside his head.

His eyes burned into mine for what felt like an eternity, and my gaze was only pulled from him by Benny’s voice, distant in my ears. “Let’s go take a shot.” He began lifting himself from the couch, pulling gently at my arm as he did. “Uh, sure.” I replied tentatively, not sure that I should take another shot but also not really wanting my interaction with him to be over so quickly. I stood up on wobbly legs and he smiled, wrapping an arm around my shoulders lazily and leading me out of the living room and into the kitchen.

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

Once we were standing in the kitchen, I sent Bree a quick text to check on how she was feeling as I allowed Benny to pour me a second shot. “For you, Y/n.” My eyes lifted off the screen and met his as he handed me the overflowing shot glass with a lime wedge on top, and I felt my stomach lurch at the thought of consuming anymore alcohol. “Uh, Benny, I don’t know if I should be taking a shot right now.” My voice was so slurred that even my own ears were shocked, and I used my free hand to hold onto the countertop as I felt myself spin.

“Aw come on, you can do it.” He replied in a pouty voice, placing a hand on my hip and pulling me against him harshly. “I want to tell my friends I took a shot with the hottest girl at this party.” He smirked and I felt my cheeks blush slightly, knowing that if I was sober I would have found that line horrendous but I was clearly drunk enough to be flattered. “Can I take a smaller shot then?” I asked, knowing that I shouldn’t test my limits. He shook his head with a twinkle in his eye. “Nuh-uh. Half shots aren’t real shots. Come on, if you were really too drunk you wouldn’t be worried about taking just one more.”

He lifted his shot glass to mine, resting dormant in my limp hand. Maybe he was right, I had been more drunk than I was right now, and that level of drunk-me would absolutely not question whether or not I should take another shot. So, I tentatively lifted my glass to cheers against his, and slowly brought it towards my lips while keeping my eyes locked on his. Just as I went to tilt my head back and swallow the tequila, I watched as his eyes suddenly flicked from mine to something slightly behind me, and then continued to watch as his brow furrowed in confusion as a hand came from behind me and grabbed the shot glass out of my hand.

“What the fuck, bro?” Benny’s tone had suddenly shifted to one much angrier than the one he had been using with me before, and his face had contorted into one of complete disgust, and it sort of scared me. I didn’t have to turn around to know who was responsible for this disruption, especially once I felt his familiar touch on my waist. “Oh I’m sorry, didn’t she just tell you that she didn’t want to take this shot?” Chris’ words came out smooth and relaxed, but they had a slightly menacing edge to them that made the hair on the back of my neck shoot up. My eyes still glued to Benny, I watched as he put his shot glass down and crossed his arms. “Pretty sure it’s none of your fucking business, motherfucker.” He spat, and I stiffened from the heavy silence that followed.

Chris was right up against me, and I felt his chest rise and fall rapidly and knew that he was trying to keep himself calm. His grip on my waist tightened as he worked on regaining his composure, and without even turning around I knew his eyes were burning into Benny’s just my the hesitant expression on his face. Finally, the torturous silence was broken by a gruff chuckle behind me. “You do this often, huh? Feed girls shot after shot until their vision becomes blurry enough to find you just a little bit attractive? That won’t work on Y/n.” I opened my mouth to protest but was cut off immediately by Chris’ booming voice. “She’s a party girl, and likes having a good time so she rarely turns down the opportunity to take a shot. So the fact that she tried to turn one down from you means one of two things: either she knows you’re a creep, or she knows that you would never be able to show her a good time the way that I can.”

My mouth dropped at his words, and I watched as Benny’s darkened eyes flashed between me and Chris. I tried to unscramble my mind and come up with something to say, but I was so shocked by the conversation that I couldn’t find the words. There had been a part of me that had been relieved to feel Chris behind me moments ago, but that relief had been replaced by sheer anger at Chris once again getting in the middle of my personal life in a way he never did before we started fucking. Just as I was about to turn around and push him away, Chris grabbed my arm and pulled me away. “You’re coming with me right now, Y/n.” He growled.

I was pulled through the house and towards the first floor washroom, where Chris pushed me in and locked the door behind us. I turned to face him, fists clenched at my sides and armed with a plethora of insults to shoot at him, but I couldn’t get anything out. He stood in front of me, chest heaving under his plain black tank top. His blue eyes looked like they could belong to a wild animal, the way they were frantically scanning my face. His cheeks were flushed slightly, presumably from the adrenaline of once again freeing his possessive side in front of another man. I looked at all of these parts of him, and I knew that if I hadn’t drank half as much as I did that I would have immediately shut down his toxic behaviour. But in the state of mind that the tequila had put me in, all I could see were flashes of him pinning me down, leaving marks all across my skin, whispering dirty phrases into my ear, and all of the other forms of his possession that never failed to draw me back to him.

“You need to stop doing that.” I finally managed to get out, my throat suddenly feeling excruciatingly dry. A small smile threatened to appear across his mouth before he responded. “Do what?” His voice sounded much more innocent than it had just moments before. “Cock blocking me.” I replied simply, crossing my arms over my chest. He tilted his head to the side cheekily. “I was just doing you a favour. That kid would definitely fuck like a dead fish.” I shoved his shoulder and gasped at his choice of words. “Chris! This isn’t funny. I told you this the last time. You need to stop acting like you own me every chance you get. I’m so sick of it. I’m not tied down to you, you’re not tied down to me. We’ve fucked a few times, so what? I’m allowed to do whatever I want with whoever I want, and I don’t need your approval. As a matter of fact, I actually remember telling you that the last time really was the last time, that we can’t do this anymore. And I meant it, okay? No more.”

Satisfied with my drunken rant, I allowed myself to take a deep breath and gather my composure to prepare to walk out of the washroom and back to Benny. Closing my eyes for a moment to wait for my heart rate to decrease, my moment of serenity was interrupted by Chris. “You’re sure about that?” My eyes shot open, ready to go on another slurred tangent, when Chris gestured to his shoulder. There was my hand that I had used to shove him moments ago, resting against his soft tank top, rubbing it softly. “You’re really sure you don’t want to do this anymore?” His tone was soft, but he had a knowing look in his eyes as his hands found my waist once again and pulled me against him.

As soon as my body was pressed against his and he gazed down at me affectionately, I felt that familiar combination of excitement and uncertainty that always came from his touch. He raised his eyebrows, wordlessly telling me that he was waiting for my response, but my words were failing me as my mind became clouded with thoughts of him. “What’s wrong baby?” He cooed, taking his hand and running it along the curve of my ass. “Having second thoughts?” I couldn’t shake the fuzzy feeling in my mind, and the heat that was growing in between my legs wasn’t helping at all. Against all better judgment, I brought my free hand up to his other shoulder and wrapped my arms around his neck. I stared up at him wordlessly for a few moments, my hands thoughtlessly playing with the ends of his hair as I once again lost all self control.

I stood up on my tip toes, making it so that our noses were centimetres apart. I felt his breath against my own mouth, and continued to contemplate as his hands engulfed my ass. Chris’ mouth moved towards mine, where it barely brushed my lips before I pulled away. His hand travelled up my body and to my cheek, where he used his thumb to stroke it softly. His thumb moved from my cheek down to my lower lip, where his eyes never left, and he pulled it down slightly and watched as it popped back up on release. He brought his lips to mine again, pressing them there ever so lightly as if to test the waters.

No matter how many times I tried to tell myself otherwise, I could never resist the temptation of Chris. Ever since that first time a few months ago, it was like no other sex could ever compare. Even though his behaviour pissed me off, I knew that it was never going to make it possible for me to resist him. Ever since it got a taste, my body never stopped craving his, and tonight was no exception.

Finally, I allowed my lips to crash against his, and he immediately worked his tongue into my mouth in an act of dominance. Our mouths moved in sync as the kiss deepened, and I released a breathy gasp as he pinned me against the washroom door. As we kissed, Chris brought a hand to my shirt and pulled it up over my tits so that they were completely exposed. Grabbing one in his hand, a quiet moan escaped his lips as he ran a thumb against my sensitive nipple. His mouth moved down to my neck, where he used a lethal combination of suction and biting to leave what was sure to be deep purple bruises along my sensitive skin.

Once his lips latched back onto mine, I felt his hand slip into my leather pants and cup my heat. His lips turned up in a smile against my own. “Hmm, who got you this wet princess?” I gulped for air as the very tip of his finger trailed along my already dripping slit. “Y-you Chris.” I replied, my brain on auto pilot. He chuckled before retracting his hands from my pants. “That’s what I thought.”

Suddenly, he lifted me into the air and my legs immediately wrapped around his waist as he continued to fervently kiss me. I felt him place me delicately on the sink, and I wrapped my arms around his neck to keep his mouth on mine. Still having complete control over our tempo, he used his mouth to slow the motion of our kiss down tremendously. Still just as deep as before, our lips moved in a lumbering pace as he pressed his bulge against my core. Unable to help myself, I released a soft whine in frustration as my heat began to pulsate. “Tell me what you want, Y/n.” Chris whispered against my lips, maintaining the feverishly slow pace of the kiss. “W-want you to make me feel good.” I replied in a squeaky voice, nearly panting from the anticipation.

“Hmm. That’s what I thought.” He said, pulling his mouth away from me and staring down at me with glazed over eyes. He didn’t make me beg anymore before he unbuckled my pants and pulled them — along with my thong — down my legs, and dropped to his knees. He grabbed my shins and pulled my legs apart, leaving my pussy completely exposed and in his sightline. “Looks so pretty like this baby, so wet for me. Can’t wait to taste it.” He took a moment to admire my heat before bringing his mouth down just to the side of where I needed him the most.

My hips bucked up in anticipation as he worked his mouth against my inner thigh, frustrated that he was teasing me when I was so turned on that it almost hurt. After what felt like forever, he inched his mouth closer and closer to my cunt at a snail speed, and I watched — mouth agape — at his fluttering eyelashes and small sprinkle of freckles along his nose as he finally made contact with my aching core. My hands immediately flew to his hair, fisting the curls at the nape of his neck to hold him in place as his tongue drilled against my clit.

“Mmm yeah baby, please, just like that.” I slurred as his mouth worked its magic on me. He released occasional hums against my bundle of nerves, which provided a new sensation that caused my eyes to roll to the back of my head. Chris maintained the same amount of speed and pressure with his tongue, and him and I both knew that it wouldn’t take him long to get me to my orgasm.

With a taunting finger, Chris ran circles around my hole, causing me to shift my hips in delirium. He knew that doing this drove me crazy, and when he finally used his fingers to fill me up, I released a guttural moan that echoed through the small washroom. His pumping fingers never missed my g-spot, and my dripping arousal caused our ears to fill with a wet sucking sound. “Oh god,” I began, trembling from the unmistakable feeling building up in my lower stomach. “Oh fuck, gonna cum Chrissy.” I managed to get out as my mind began to unravel. Chris moaned against my pussy but maintained his pace, pushing me over the edge. Suddenly, a violent orgasm washed over me, causing my grip on his hair to tighten and my back to arch. As it rolled through me, a plethora of incoherent phrases left my lips as I lost complete control over myself, and Chris didn’t stop his merciless actions until I felt the gush of my release against his mouth and down his chin.

After placing a soft kiss against my sensitive bud, Chris got on his feet in front of me and fumbled with his own pants. I watched as my chest heaved, feeling like I had lost my mind, as he pulled his boxers down and exposed his cock — its size still never failing to startle me. He positioned himself between my open legs, and I watched with hungry eyes as he grabbed his hard dick and pressed it firmly against my needy core. “You want this?” His voice was in my ear as he tauntingly slid his member through my soaked folds. I swallowed, unable to take my eyes off of his length, and nodded. Suddenly, he used his free hand to land a sharp slap to my thigh. “Y/n, we’ve talked about this. Use your words.” I looked up at him through my fluttering eyelashes apologetically. “I-I want your cock.” I said, my words shaky and laced with desperation. They brought a dark smile to Chris’ lips, however, and it didn’t take him long to slam his hips into mine; filling my cunt with every inch of him.

His size still shocking, I practically screamed as my walls moulded around him. With each of his powerful thrusts into me, I couldn’t help but release loud moans from the combination of pleasure and pain. Even in my fucked out state, I was aware of the dozens of people just on the other side of the door, and I used my own hand to cover my mouth in an attempt to stifle the uncontrollable sounds from slipping out of it. Chris’ eyes were watching his member slide in and out of me in awe, before they trailed up my body and back onto my face. Noticing my hand over my mouth, he grabbed it and pried it off; holding it firmly in his own against the counter top.

“No no, keep crying baby. Want everyone to hear how good I make you feel.” His words scrambled my brain into an aroused mess, and I did as he said and allowed sobs of pleasure to fall from my lips as he continued to pound into me relentlessly. “S-so g-good Chris.” I murmured, digging my nails into his back as his head dropped onto my shoulder. He released occasional grunts as he rolled his hips against mine, and the vocal confirmation of his pleasure was like music to my ears.

Suddenly, Chris pulled his dick out of me and I gasped at the shock that came from the loss of contact. He kept his head resting against my shoulder for a moment as his breath hitched, and I was wondering if he already finished when he finally pulled himself up and planted a deep kiss on my swollen lips. “Off the counter.” He commanded, voice raspy with lust. I did as I was told, still in a trance, before he grabbed my shoulders and spun me around so that I was now facing the sink. I saw a glance of myself in the mirror and came face-to-face with a girl who was practically unrecognizable. Eyes wild, lips puffy, and hair in shambles, it was like I caught a glimpse of the alternate version of me that just couldn’t get enough of the toxicity that was Chris.

Before I could spend anymore time staring at the girl in the mirror, Chris grabbed a fistful of my hair and used his grip to bend me over the sink. Using his other hand to encourage my legs apart, he wasted no time in sliding his cock back in my soaked cunt. Through the mirror, his eyes drilled into me and the intensity that it brought was overwhelming. His blue eyes were blown out, and his jaw was tense as if he was boiling over in anger. The new position that he had put me in provided me with a new sensation, and being bent over allowed him to have easier access to my g-spot; which he hit with precision on each thrust. “You feel so fucking good wrapped around me like this, Y/n.” Chris growled, and I moaned in acknowledgment.

“Who’s pussy is this?” He asked in a demanding tone, and my eyes flashed to his in the mirror. I felt my second orgasm bubbling up inside me, and my words were nowhere to be found. In my silence, Chris slapped my ass hard — sure to leave a dark red mark — before asking again. “Y/n, tell me who’s pussy this is.” Even though I didn’t think it was possible, Chris began pounding his hips into me even harder and faster, doing everything he could to draw the answer from my lips. “Y-yours. It’s yours C-Chris.” I screamed out after he slapped my ass once more, and I watched through droopy eyelids as he smirked at me through the mirror before grabbing my throat and pulling me up to him.

“That’s right,” He began, leaving sloppy open-mouthed kisses against my neck. “This is my fucking pussy. Don’t forget that princess.” He drove his hips up into me unforgivingly, and once he reached his fingers around my body and began rubbing my clit, I felt my legs weaken as my orgasm began taking over. “Oh yeah baby, feel so good with your walls milking me like that. Go on, make a mess.” He spoke his filthy words right into my ear, and my body took them as verbal permission as my second orgasm swept me off my feet. I felt myself go limp, and lost all of my senses as my body was hit with relentless waves of pleasure. Chris never stopped pounding into me, and as my arousal dripped down his legs he pressed my lethargic body back down onto the counter.

Overstimulated, I continued to cry out as Chris slammed in and out of me; chasing his own high. My body felt simultaneously lifeless and reactive, and I gripped tightly to the countertop as I struggled to keep myself from sliding to the floor. “Oh fuck, baby, I’m close.” Chris muttered, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before shooting open and once again landing on mine in the mirror. “I’m gonna cum inside you, and you’re gonna take all of it like a good girl. Okay?” His words were choppy, and he was visibly struggling to maintain his composure, but still I nodded frantically. “O-okay, fill me up baby.” I moaned out, feeling the pressure of one final overstimulated orgasm take over me.

My body broke out into convulsions as I came, the lack of down-time between this one and my last causing my nerves to feel like they might explode. As I rode out my final high, Chris’ hips suddenly stilled and, as he released a throaty moan, I felt his cock twitch inside of me; shooting his warm cum against my walls. I watched his euphoric expression in the mirror as he finished —jaw slack, eyes fluttered shut; muscles flexed — before his eyes opened once again and he bent down to place a gentle kiss on the small of my back.

After giving us both a moment to catch our breaths, Chris slowly pulled his cock out of my raw core; causing me to wince slightly. He walked over to grab the roll of toilet paper and used it to clean me and then him as I pressed my forehead against the cool counter top. As I rested there for a moment, regaining my conscious mind, I was filled with the all-too-familiar feeling of confliction. Once again, I had encouraged Chris’ possessive behaviour by sleeping with him, but fuck, it had felt so good. This had been happening for weeks, and each time it did it had ended the same way it did tonight.

I let out a groan in frustration, and Chris chuckled under his breath. “Something wrong?” He asked, and I lifted my head off the counter and looked at him through the mirror. “We cannot keep doing this Chris.” I mumbled, straightening myself up to fix my hair and makeup. Chris sighed as he pulled his pants back up. “I don’t understand what the problem is. You clearly enjoyed yourself just now.” His voice was arrogant, and I rolled my eyes. “The problem is not the sex, Chris. The problem is I’m not yours, and you don’t seem to get that.” He leaned against the door and crossed his arms, watching as I slowly began putting my clothes back on.

“Y/n, I know you’re not mine, and I’m fine with that. But that doesn’t mean I want you to be anyone else’s.” He paused for a moment with a bold glint in his eyes before continuing. “Now hurry up and get dressed. Matt’s coming to pick me up soon and you’re coming home with me. I’m not leaving you here with that weirdo fuck.” He didn’t wait for me to respond before opening the door just enough to slide his body through, leaving me alone in the bathroom. And once again — as if my body had detached from my brain — I buttoned up my pants, pulled my shirt back down, and followed him out the door; sending Bree a quick text letting her know I wouldn’t be home tonight.

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you #the sturniolos #the sturniolo triplets

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breelandwalker · 1 year ago

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PODCAST RECS - Debunking and Fact-Checking for Witches & Witchcraft Spaces

A collection of podcast episodes fact-checking, debunking, or just providing some clarity on modern myths, misinformation, and conspiracy theories that are frequent flyers in witchcraft and pagan spaces, both theories mistakenly touted by community members and some of the utter drivel spouted by non-witches that still affects us today. Check out these shows on your favorite podcast app!

(Updates to be made whenever I find new content. There will be some crossover with my Witches In History Podcast Recs post and some of the content will be heavy. Blanket trigger warning for violence, abuse, bigotry, sexism, antisemitism, and mistreatment of women, queer people, and children.)

[Last Updated: October 17, 2024]

This post is broken into three basic sections:

Historical Misinformation

Modern Myths and the People Who Create Them

Conspiracy Theories and Moral Panics

List of Cited Podcasts, in alphabetical order

American Hysteria

BS-Free Witchcraft

Dig: A History Podcast

Hex Positive

Historical Blindness

History Uncovered

Morbid

Occultae Veritatis

Our Curious Past

Our Fake History

Ridiculous History

Stuff You Missed In History Class

The History of Witchcraft

Unobscured

You’re Wrong About…

Historical Misinformation

General History of Witchcraft

Historical Blindness - A Rediscovery of Witches, Pt 1 & 2 Oct 13, 2020 & Oct. 27, 2020 A discussion of the early modern witch craze and the myths, misconceptions, and theories about witches spread by academics. Topics of discussion include the works of Margaret Murray and Charles Leland, the founding of Wicca, the emergence of the midwife-witch myth, and folk healers as targets of witchcraft accusations. Sarah Handley-Cousins of “Dig: A History Podcast” supplies guest material for both episodes.

Hex Positive, Ep. 36 - Margaret Effing Murray with Trae Dorn July 1, 2023 Margaret Murray was a celebrated author, historian, folklorist, Egyptologist, archaeologist, anthropologist, first-wave feminist, and the first woman to be appointed to the position of lecturer in archaeology in the UK. So why so we get so annoyed whenever her name is mentioned in conversations about witchcraft? Well, it all has to do with a book Margaret wrote back in 1921...which just so happened to go on to have a profound influence on the roots of the modern witchcraft movement.

Nerd & Tie senpai and host of BS-Free Witchcraft Trae Dorn joins Bree NicGarran in the virtual studio to discuss the thoroughly-discredited witch-cult hypothesis, Murray's various writings and accomplishments, and why modern paganism might not have caught on so strongly without her.

BS-Free Witchcraft, Ep 03: The History of Wicca October 06, 2018 On this episode, Trae digs deep into the history of Wicca, and tries to give the most accurate history of the religion as they can. I mean, yeah, we know this is a general Witchcraft podcast, but Wicca is the most widely practiced form of Witchcraft in the US, UK, Canada and Australia… so how it got started is kind of important for the modern Witchcraft movement. (And trust me, there aren’t any pulled punches here.)

BS-Free Witchcraft, Ep. 28: The Burning Times May 30, 2020 On this installment of the podcast, we tackle probably one of the more controversial topics in the modern witchcraft movement: The Burning Times. What were the actual “Burning Times,” where do we get that phrase from, and what really happened? Also, how has this phrase been used in modern witchcraft? It’s a heavy one, folks.

Dig: A History Podcast - Both Man and Witch: Uncovering the Invisible History of Male Witches Sept 13, 2020 Since at least the 1970s, academic histories of witches and witchcraft have enjoyed a rare level of visibility in popular culture. Feminist, literary, and historical scholarship about witches has shaped popular culture to such a degree that the discipline has become more about unlearning everything we thought we knew about witches. Though historians have continued to investigate and re-interpret witch history, the general public remains fixated on the compelling, feminist narrative of the vulnerable women hanged and burned at the stake for upsetting the patriarchy. While this part of the story can be true, especially in certain contexts, it’s only part of the story, and frankly, not even the most interesting part. Today, we tackle male witches in early modern Eurasia and North America!

Dig: A History Podcast - Doctor, Healer, Midwife, Witch: How the the Women’s Health Movement Created the Myth of the Midwife-Witch Sept 6, 2020 In 1973, two professors active in the women’s health movement wrote a pamphlet for women to read in the consciousness-raising reading groups. The pamphlet, inspired by Our Bodies, Ourselves, looked to history to explain how women had been marginalized in their own healthcare. Women used to be an important part of the medical profession as midwives, they argued — but the midwives were forced out of practice because they were so often considered witches and persecuted by the patriarchy in the form of the Catholic Church. The idea that midwives were regularly accused of witchcraft seemed so obvious that it quickly became taken as fact. There was only one problem: it wasn’t true. In this episode, we follow the convoluted origin story of the myth of the midwife-witch.

Dig: A History Podcast - Cheesecloth, Spiritualism, and State Secrets: Helen Duncan’s Famous Witchcraft Trial July 3, 2022 Helen Duncan was charged under the 1735 Witchcraft Act, but her case was no eighteenth-century sensation: she was arrested, charged, and ultimately imprisoned in 1944. Of course, in 1944, Britain was at war, fighting fascism by day on the continent and hiding in air raid shelters by night at home. The spectacle of a Spiritualist medium on trial for witchcraft seemed out of place. What possessed the Home Secretary to allow this trial to make headlines all across the UK in 1944? That’s what we’re here to find out.

The Conspirators, Ep. 63 - The Last Witch Trial Nov. 26, 2017 England’s official laws regarding the prosecution of witches dates back to the 1600s. Those very same laws would also remain on the books until well into the 20th century. In 1944, a psychic medium named Helen Duncan would gain notoriety by becoming the last woman to be tried under England’s witchcraft laws.

The History of Witchcraft Podcast, hosted by Samuel Hume Witches didn’t exist, and yet thousands of people were executed for the crime of witchcraft. Why? The belief in magic and witchcraft has existed in every recorded human culture; this podcast looks at how people explained the inexplicable, turned random acts of nature into conscious acts of mortal or supernatural beings, and how desperate communities took revenge against the suspected perpetrators.

Unobscured, Season One - The Salem Witch Trials Welcome to Salem, Massachusetts. It’s 1692. And all hell is about to break loose.

Unobscured is a deep-dive history podcast from the labs of How Stuff Works, featuring the writing and narrative talents of Aaron Mahnke, horror novelist and the mind behind Lore and Cabinet of Curiosities.

As with his other series, Mahnke approaches the events in Salem armed with a mountain of research. Interviews with prominent historians add depth and documentation to each episode. And it’s not just the trials you’ll learn about; it’s the stories of the people, places, attitudes, and conflicts that led to the deaths of more than twenty innocent people.

Each week, a new aspect of the story is explored, gradually weaving events and personalities together in chronological order to create a perspective of the trials that is both expansive and intimate. From Bridget Bishop to Cotton Mather, from Andover to Salem Town, Mahkne digs deep to uncover the truth behind the most notorious witch trials in American history.

Think you know the story of Salem? Think again.

Witchcraft and Other Magical Practices

BS-Free Witchcraft, Ep. 43 - “Lilith” Jan. 29, 2022 Host Trae Dorn discusses the ongoing debate over whether or not it’s okay for non-Jewish witches to incorporate Lilith into their practices. Is Lilith closed? Is it cultural appropriation? There’s so much misinformation in New Age and poorly written witchcraft books on Lilith, it’s hard for some witches to get a clear picture. It’s common to run into folks on social media talking about Lilith as a “Goddess,” which she very much isn’t. Let’s dive into the origins of the folklore surrounding this figure, and we’ll let you decide whether or not it’s okay to work with Lilith. But, uh, spoiler – we don’t think you should.

Historical Blindness, Ep. 106 - Lilith, the Phantom Maiden November 22, 2022 Host Nathaniel Lloyd explores the evolution of the figure of Lilith, from Mesopotamian demon, to the first woman created by God, and back to a succubus mother of demons. It’s a tale of syncretism, superstition, forgery, and a dubious interpretation of scriptures.

BS-Free Witchcraft, Ep. 55 - Lucky Girl Syndrome and the Law of Attraction January 28, 2023 Trae takes a look at one of New Age spirituality’s most toxic philosophies - The Law of Attraction. The history of the idea is discussed, where it came from, and how this dangerous combination of prosperity gospel, purity culture, and victim-blaming has come back in a major way to a whole new generation as “Lucky Girl Syndrome.”

Hex Positive, Ep. 19 - The Trouble with Tarot August 1, 2021 Tarot and tarot-reading have been a part of the modern witchcraft movement since the 1960s. But where did these cards and their meanings come from? Are they secretly Ancient Egyptian mystical texts? Do they have their origins among the Romani people? Are they a sacred closed practice that should not be used by outsiders? Nope, nope, and nope.

This month, we delve into the actual history of tarot cards, discover their origins on the gaming tables of Italy and France, meet the people who developed their imagery and symbolism into the deck we know today, and debunk some of the nonsense that’s been going around lately concerning their use. The Witchstorian is putting on her research specs for this one!

Stuff You Missed in History Class - A Brief History of Tarot Cards Oct. 26, 2020 How did a card game gain a reputation for being connected to mysticism? Tarot’s history takes a significant turn in the 18th century, but much of that shift in perception is based on one author’s suppositions and theories.

Hex Positive, Ep. 23 - The Name of the Game November 1, 2021 Bree delves into the history, myths, and urban legends surrounding Ouija boards. Along the way, we’ll uncover their origins in the spiritualist movement, discover the pop culture phenomenon that labeled them portals to hell, and try to separate fact from internet fiction with regard to what these talking boards can actually do.

Our Curious Past, Ep. 20 - The Curious History of the Ouija Board August 18, 2023 Host Peter Laws explores the history of the “talking board,” which was wildly popular in the early 1900s, until something happened that would tarnish its’ reputation for good.

Ridiculous History - Brooms and Witchcraft, Pt. 1 & 2 Oct. 13-15, 2020 Most people are familiar with the stereotypical image of a witch: a haggard, often older individual with a peaked hat, black robes, a demonic familiar and, oddly enough, a penchant for cruising around on broomsticks. But where did that last weirdly specific trop of flying on a broomstick actually come from? Could the stereotype of witches on broomsticks actually be a drug reference? Join Ben, Noel, and Casey as they continue digging through the history and folklore of witchcraft - and how it affected pop culture in the modern day.

Historical Blindness, Ep. 116 - The Key to the Secrets of King Solomon May 02, 2023 Host Nathaniel Lloyd continues his occasional series on the history and mythology of magic. In this installment, he looks at the development of the story that the biblical King Solomon was actually a flying-carpet-riding, magic-ring-wielding wizard and alchemist who bound demons to do his will. The origins and content of the legendary Key of Solomon are also discussed.

Dig: A History Podcast - Plastic Shamans and Spiritual Hucksters: A History of Peddling and Protecting Native American Spirituality July 24, 2022 In the late 20th century, white Americans flocked to New Age spirituality, collecting crystals, hugging trees, and finding their places in the great Medicine Wheel. Many didn’t realize - or didn’t care - that much of this spirituality was based on the spiritual faiths and practices of Native American tribes. Frustrated with what they called “spiritual hucksterism,” members of the American Indian Movement (AIM) began protesting - and have never stopped. Who were these “plastic shamans,” and how did the spiritual services they sold become so popular?

Historical Blindness, Ep. 145 - All Is Number: Pythagoras and Numerology May 28, 2024 In this installment of the ongoing Encyclopedia Grimoria series, host Nathaniel Lloyd talks about a cult leader who is remembered as a great mathematician, whose real lasting contribution to the world is the nonsensical divination "magic" known as numerology.

Holidays

Hex Positive, Ep. 28 - The Easter-Ostara Debacle April 1, 2022 Host Bree NicGarran puts on her Witchstorian hat once more to delve into the origins of both Easter and Ostara and to finally answer the age-old question: which came first – the bunny or the egg?

Historical Blindness, Ep. 28 - A Very Historically Blind Christmas Dec. 18, 2018 An exploration of the origins of Christmas traditions, with special guest Brian Earl of the Christmas Past podcast. (There is also some mention of Christmas witches!) Further installments of this series explore additional Christmas traditions and iconography which have been falsely claimed to have pagan origins as well as the myths surrounding the history of Christmas itself. (Eps. 47, 63, 84, & 132 in December of subsequent years)

Modern Myths and the People Who Create Them

Ed and Lorraine Warren

You’re Wrong About…Ed and Lorraine Warren w. Jamie Loftus Nov 8 2021 Special Guest Jamie Loftus tells Sarah about Ed and Lorraine Warren (of The Conjuring and Annabelle fame). Topics of interest include Connecticut as a locus of scary happenings, New England uncles, and psychic communication with a tearstained Bigfoot.

Dig: A History Podcast - The Demonologist and the Clairvoyant: Ed and Lorraine Warren, Paranormal Investigation, and Exorcism in the Modern World Oct 3 2021 In the 1970s, Lorraine and Ed Warren had a spotlight of paranormal obsession shining on them. In the last decade, their work as paranormal investigators–ghost hunters–has been the premise for a blockbuster horror franchise totaling at least seven films so far, and more planned in the near future. So… what the heck? Is this for real? Yes, friends, today we’re talking about demonology, psychic connections to the dead, and the patriarchy. Just a typical day with your historians at Dig.

History Uncovered, Ep. 92 - The Enfield Haunting That Inspired "The Conjuring 2" Oct 25 2023 The Enfield Haunting began with a bang. Literally. From 1977 to 1979, an unassuming North London home was the site of near-constant paranormal activity, from knocking sounds and moving objects to disembodied voices and the terrifying alleged possession of one young daughter of the Hodgson family. But how much truth was there to these happenings? And since the Warrens got involved briefly and subsequently touted themselves as experts on the case (and made money from talking about it), how much of what we think we know reflects the actual events?

Hex Positive, Ep. 042 - Extended Warren Tea with Jenn the Ouija Girl and Lorelei Rivers Jan 01 2024 Discussions about the careers and rhetoric of the Warrens make the rounds regularly in conversations about the paranormal among members of the witchcraft community. But who were the Warrens? Why do they inspire such ire even as the Conjuring franchise gains steam? How much of what we think we know about the supernatural comes from them? And why is it important to recognize - and refute - their rhetoric when we encounter it? Bree NicGarran sits down with Jenn the Ouija Girl and Lorelei Rivers to spill ALL the tea.

"Paranormal" Literature & Media

You’re Wrong About…Winter Book Club - The Amityville Horror, Pts. 1-3 Dec 20 2021 - Feb 6 2022 Sarah tells guest host Jamie Loftus about the Amityville Horror, how it’s a Christmas story, and buying murder furniture might not be such a great idea. Further highlights include Jodie the Demon Pig, poor insulation and terrible parenting as evidence of a haunting, lots and lots of sunk cost fallacy, and how the book kind of debunks itself.

MORBID, Ep. 610 - The Amityville Horror Conspiracy October 17 2024 The supposed experience of the Lutz family at 112 Ocean Avenue served as the basis for the iconic haunted house story, “The Amityville Horror,” and the countless films adapted from or inspired by the original novel. However, unlike most other stories of paranormal experiences, “The Amityville Horror” became a phenomenon that influenced everything from Ronald DeFeo’s criminal defense during his murder trial to the American public’s belief in the supernatural. Yet for all their talk of it being a genuine story of demonic activity, in the years since the publication of the popular novel, a large body of evidence from skeptical evaluations to court records and interview transcripts suggest that America’s most notorious haunted house might not have been quite so haunted after all.

American Hysteria, Ep. 125 - I Was A Teenage Poltergeist October 14 2024 Sarah Marshall, host of “You’re Wrong About…,” transports us to the old world of British Hysteria to reveal the mysterious story of the Enfield Poltergeist and joins host Chelsea Weber Smith at the seance table to discuss the great unknown and the ghosts they know.

You’re Wrong About… - Michelle Remembers, Pt. 1-5 March 26, 2020 - April 30, 2020 Intrepid hosts Sarah and Mike delve into one of the foundational texts of the Satanic Panic - “Michelle Remembers.” A young woman spends a year undergoing hypnosis therapy, which uncovers repressed memories of shocking and horrifying abuse at the hands of a Satanic cult. The book became a foundational text for both mental health professionals and law enforcement attempting to grapple with an alleged nationwide network of insidiously invisible child-abducting cults. The only problem is…none of what Michelle remembered ever actually happened.

You’re Wrong About…. - The Satan Seller, Pt. 1-5 June 28, 2021 - August 9, 2021 Sarah and Mike return to Camp You’re Wrong About for another Satanic Panic story hour. This time, the summer book club explores Mike Warnke’s 1972 “memoir” about joining a demonic cult, rising through the ranks of Satan’s favorite lackeys, his sudden downfall and redemption, and the California hedonism that made him do it. This is followed by a discussion of the Cornerstone Magazine exposé that brought the facts to light and thoroughly discredited Warnke’s story.

American Hysteria, Eps. 64-66 - Chick Tracts, Pts. 1-3 March 20 - April 03, 2023 In his own lifetime, Jack Chick was one of most prolific and widely-read comic artists in history. His company, Chick Tracts, published hundreds of millions of copies of pocket-sized bible comics, filled with lurid illustrations of cackling demons, wicked witches, and sinister cults, all hell-bent on corrupting any hapless mortal they could get their hands on. These tracts were meant to be left where they might be found by a sinner in need of salvation, with a scared-straight morality-play approach to Christianity that contributed in no small part to the period in the late 20th century we now call the Satanic Panic. (There’s also a follow-up two-part episode about one of Chick’s “occult experts,” who claimed to be, among other things, a real-life vampire.)

History Uncovered, Ep. 95 - Roland Doe, The Boy Who Inspired "The Exorcist" November 15, 2023 In 1949, priests performed an exorcism on a boy referred to as "Roland Doe," aka Ronald Hunkeler, in a chilling ordeal that became the real-life inspiration for William Peter Blatty's 1971 book, "The Exorcist," and the movie adaptation released in 1973. But what really happened during this alleged exorcism and was there any proof of the claims of alleged demonic paranormal activity surrounding the events?

You're Wrong About... - The Exorcist (with Marlena Williams) December 27, 2023 Marlena Williams, author of "Night Mother: A Personal and Cultural History of the Exorcist," joins host Sarah Marshall to discuss the little possession movie that changed America forever. Was the set cursed by Satan himself, or plain old 70s misogyny? What makes a country going through a cultural upheaval embrace stories about the Devil? And - the most critical question of all - do Ouija boards really cause possession?

Frightful, Bonus Episode - Is the Paranormal Like A New Religion? June 25 2024 Since the early 2000s, paranormal content has exploded in popular culture. It seems we can't get enough of ghosts (and hunting for them). What could be behind this enthusiasm for spooky things? Host Peter Laws shares a theory - that the paranormal is a clever way for us to be religious...without being religious. (This is less a debunking than a discussion of a personal hypothesis, but it deals with the pervasiveness of cultural religious themes, the influence of social media on modern mythmaking, and the sense of community surrounding paranormal belief.)

Conspiracy Theories and Moral Panics

Ancient "Mysteries"

Historical Blindness, Pyramidiocy, Eps. 146-151 June-July 2024 Host Nathaniel Lloyd delves into the great pyramids and the various myths and misconceptions surrounding them, some of which, despite vast amounts of historical evidence to the contrary, endure to this very day. Further related segments on this topic may be found on the show's Patreon, including a highly interesting July 2024 minisode regarding "Books of the Dead," which examines claims about H.P. Lovecraft's "Necronomicon" and its' supposed relation to the Egyptian Book of the Dead and the Emerald Tablet of Hermes Trismegistus.

History Uncovered, Ep. 117 - The Real History Behind the Mythic City of Atlantis June 12, 2024 First mentioned by Plato in Timaeus and Critias, the lost city of Atlantis later became a widely debated topic among historians. But is Atlantis real? (Spoiler: No. No it is not.)

Hucksters, Secret Societies, and Antisemitism

Historical Blindness, Ep. 14 - Bloody Libel December 12, 2017 An exploration of one of the most destructive myths in history - the blood libel, or the false accusation that Jews of the Middle Ages and beyond ritually murdered Christian children, a lie that host Nathaniel Lloyd traces back to its’ roots in medieval England and the murder of one Young William of Norwich.

Historical Blindness, Eps. 56-57 - The Illuminati Illuminated September 15-29, 2020 A contemplation of the modern conservative conspiracy theory of a “deep state” leads host Nathaniel Lloyd back to the dawn of the modern conspiracy theory, the Enlightenment, when the ultimate conservative conspiracy theory was born as an explanation for the French Revolution: The Illuminati!

Historical Blindness, Eps. 38-40 - Nazi Occultism, Parts 1-3 July 2-30, 2019 An exploration of the dark roots of Nazi occult philosophies, from a neo-paganism preoccupied with the Nordic Pantheon, to a folksy back-to-the-land movement that evolved into a nationalist sentiment, to an ideology of racial supremacy all tied up with contemporary myths and pseudoscience. (The host is careful to note with clarity and vehemence at the start of each episode that this series IN NO WAY approves of, promotes, or supports this ideology and Nazism is roundly condemned at every turn. It’s not an easy listen, but understanding how and why this bigotry continues to be a problem in pagan spaces and how to recognize it is very important.) TL;DR - Fuck Nazis. No tolerance for genocidal fuckwads.

DIG: A History Podcast - Werewolves, Vampires, and the Aryans of Ancient Atlantis: The Occultic Roots of the Nazi Party Oct 17, 2021 Modern movie plotlines which portray Nazi obsessions with occultism might be exaggerated for dramatic effect, but they aren't made up out of wholecloth. The NSDAP, or the National Socialist Worker's Party, was a party ideologically enabled by occultist theories about the Aryan race and vampiric Jews, on old folk tales about secret vigilante courts and nationalist werewolves, and on pseudoscientific ideas about ice moons. In this episode, the hosts explore the occult ideas, racial mythology, and 'supernatural imaginary' that helped to create the Nazi Party.

Our Fake History, Eps. 66-68: Who Was the Mother of the Occult? May-June 2018 An exploration of the life and works of Helena Petrovna Blavatsky, self-described sage, medium, guru, author, and one of the founders of Theosophy.

The Satanic Panic

American Hysteria - Satanic Panic, pt 1 & 2 Dec. 10 2018 - Jan. 07, 2019 This two-part episode covers perhaps the most mystifying moral panic in US history, the 1980s and early 90s ‘Satanic Panic.’ For this episode, Chelsey covers the rise of organized Satanism beginning in the late 60s, as well as the adversarial countercultures of the hippies and the metalheads, and their apparent Satanic crimes that would be hailed as proof of their evil, as well as proof that teens, as well as children, were in serious moral peril. Satan was allegedly hypnotizing the youth with secret messages in backwards rock songs, teaching them occult magic in Saturday morning cartoons, and causing suicides through a popular role-playing games, all while helping religion blur into politics for good.

For part two, Chelsey will cover what came next, a serious investigation into an imagined network of Satanic cults ritually abusing children in daycare centers all over the country. Chelsey will try to understand this shocking decade in history, why it really happened, and the cultural issues it was really about.

BS-Free Witchcraft, Ep 10 - The Satanic Panic April 27, 2019 The Satanic Panic of the 70s, 80s, and 90s shaped the Modern Witchcraft Movement in a lot of unexpected ways. Its effects still ripple through a lot of our sources, so in this installment of the podcast we’re digging into this extremely weird part of American history. It’s a bit of a doozy, after all.

BS-Free Witchcraft - Ep. 32: A New Satanic Panic? February 27, 2021 A couple of years ago, we did an episode on the history of the Satanic Panic of the latter half of the twentieth century, but recent events have led us to ask - could it be happening again? It’s very possible that we are at the start of a new wave of satanic panic, and QAnon is just the latest symptom of a larger problem.

Occultae Veritatis, Case #014: Satanic Panic of Martensville Jan. 28, 2018 Today the hosts cover one of the various Satanic ritual abuse scandals that happened close to them. Is it full of hot air and false allegations? Yes. Yes it is.

Occultae Veritatis, Case #097A & B: Dungeons, Dragons, and the Satanic Panic Dec. 07, 2019 - Dec. 15, 2019 Dungeons & Dragons, introduced in 1974, attracted millions of players, along with accusations by some religious figures that the game fostered demon worship and a belief in witchcraft and magic.

[Last Updated: October 17 2024]

#witchblr #witch community #podcasts #podcast recs #history #satanic panic #fuck the warrens

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thewulf · 10 months ago

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Little One || Aragorn

Summary: Request -I had an Aragorn request that I wanted to send you; if it’s something you’d be interested in writing I know it’ll be perfect (but if it doesn’t strike your fancy I completely understand)!! After reading your fic with the orc attack I was thinking about how Aragorn would respond to reader being injured defending the hobbits... Read Rest Here

A/N: Thank you for the request @fluentmoviequoter !! Had so much fun writing this, hope you enjoy :) Kinda angsty but hella fluffy as always :)

Pairing: Aragorn x Female Reader

Word Count: 5.1k +

TW: orcs, talks of blood, arrows, getting shot, yelling, angsty

You and Strider had been Rangers together for the better part of fifty years now. The two of you quickly found solace in the other. The two of you just seemed to compliment the other. What he lacked you picked up for him and vice versa. It wasn’t often he could find somebody who just understood him. So, he decided to keep you close but always safe.

He did what he wanted after all. He had a high enough ranking quickly. You were assigned nearly every patrol, raid, quest whatever the hell it was he did it with you. And you learned quicker than you had ever thought even possible with his aid. He wasn’t brutal on you, but he was not easy by any stretch of the imagination. He wanted you alive, so he trained you to stay that way. He had to be a little mean. A little too much sometime. For that was the real world. You couldn’t go out in the world as freely as one once could.

So, when Gandalf proposed the deal of getting the Hobbits from Bree to Rivendell he had agreed on the condition you could come with them. He wasn’t willing to leave you in some random village town in Eriador. No, he would never do that. Gandalf had agreed without a second thought thinking it was a good idea to have two Rangers instead of one.

You had decided fairly quickly that the Nazgûl was on your list of least favorite things in middle-earth you’d had the pleasure of coming across. You could deal with spiders and orcs buts these creatures were eerily different. Ice cold and terrifying, soul sucking. But you needed to remain stoic in the face of it all to help the Hobbits. The poor things were shaking they were so terrified. You’d tried stories of tales far and wide to shake their minds of their troubles, but it seemed no use as they only looked to the two of you in terror around every twist and turn.

When you stopped for the night to camp you’d noticed that Strider had led you deep into a dense forest. You’d never been the best at tracking, so you often led it to him. You really should’ve paid better attention before as you were often so reliant on his talents.

“I am off to gather a few plants for some tea. I will be back in an hour. Y/N, I trust they shall remain safe in your care?” He asked and you nodded without so much as a second thought.

“Of course.” You smiled to him, “Off you go. I know how mean you get without your tea.” That earned a hearty round of laughs from the Hobbit’s as they laid out their bedrolls for the night. It was nice to hear such a pleasant sound instead of hearing the screeching in the distance.

“I will remember that.” He glared at you with humor in his eyes before ducking into the night.

You turned back to the Hobbit’s with a stupid smile on your face not quite realizing how much you were giving way of your likeness towards the man, “Off to bed we go.” You shooed the silly little smirks right off their faces.

They all nodded quickly falling asleep without so much as a second thought. You were mighty jealous at the way they just did that. It took you far too long to fall asleep these days. Worry kept you up more than you liked to admit.

Thank whatever was out there for that worry that wouldn’t let you sleep as you heard the distant voices and branches breaking far off in the distance. Orcs. Had to be, they were so noisy. Your heartrate spiked as you heard them before you spotted them in the dark night. How in the hell had anything found you all the way out here?

“Up! Up!” You whisper shouted before shaking each of the Hobbits awake, “Abandon the camp we must go. Run” You grabbed for your sword and spare bow and arrow before ushering the small Hobbit’s further into the forest.

They ran ahead confused and disoriented having just fallen into a deep sleep but trusting you nonetheless. You knew you had made too much noise but did not quite realize how much the smaller ones were making as they ran.

You paused for a brief moment knowing your longer strides could catch up. You took a look behind you to see how in danger you truly were. The orcs hadn’t spotted your little group quite yet except one with keen eyes. Adrenaline shot through you as you saw the orcs arrow trained right at the back of Frodo’s head as he ran forward. He’d be dead instantly if the orc shot the arrow before you could stop it.

Panic shot through you as you ran ahead beside him pushing him to the ground with more force than you’d truly meant. You’d thought you were in the clear before the searing pain of being shot by an orc arrow throbbed through your shoulder blade sending you to the ground before you could think. Frodo rolled beside you which sprung Merry, Pippin and Sam into action as they pulled the two of you behind the thick trees of the dense forest. Fortunately for you it was mid-summer, and the forest was coated in dense foliage making it that much harder to find you and the Hobbits hiding in the trees.

Frodo looked more confused than upset before he saw the arrow protruding from your body. He’d understood instantly, “You have been hit miss Y/N!” Merry’s concerned voice only rose a few octaves as he saw the large arrow sticking right outside your shoulder. It hurt worse than it looked but you tried your best to bite back the tears as they were so unseasoned to such horrors in the world.

You looked down wincing at the arrow surely coated in poison. Thankfully you were only a few days out from Rivendell. You’d be fine… Strider not so much. Shuddering at the thought of the man who would be so mad you got hurt, you turned to the small Hobbit’s sitting in fear beside you.

Ignoring the arrow sticking out from your shoulder you sat up from the fall you took, “Listen, for there is not much time before they try and find us. Frodo and Sam run. Go find Strider. He will help end this swiftly.” You nodded watching them run quickly off into the forest. You’d sent Frodo off as he needed to be as far from the attacks as possible.

Wincing you turned yourself as best as you could towards Merry and Pippin, “Now, I need you two to be brave. You must snap this arrow as close to the wound as you can. I will fight these orcs off, but I cannot do that with this sticking out.” You huffed eyeing the rather large wooden arrow searing its mark in your shoulder blade.

Merry only gave you wide eyes as Pippin shook his head answering your request, “I cannot do that.”

“Not can I!” Merry agreed.

You looked behind you a little panicked seeing the orcs moving in closer. Far too close for your comfort. Lowering your voice, you leaned closer to them, “It does not matter any longer. Time is of the essence now. You must or we all die.” You glared at the two of them letting them both know quite how serious this was.

“Aye, turn away.” Merry stood with shaking hands grabbing at the arrow earning a hiss from your mouth. Pippin took his hands in his helping him get the leverage he needed to break the thick wood.

“All right.” You turned your head away clutching your hands into the earth trying to ground yourself. You had to fight back everything that was telling you to pass out as the arrow snapped in two under the hands of the much smaller Hobbits. A quiet whimper left your mouth as you tried your hardest to stay conscious. The orcs were close. You had to do something.

“Miss Y/N” Merry sounded concerned as he saw your face pale out and the orcs move closer, “Please be okay.”

You nodded blinking back the wave of nausea taking over your usually so agile self. This did not feel like your standard orc poison. You knew what that felt like and this was not it. This was moving faster than anything you’d been hit by them with, “I am fine mister Pippin.” You breathed trying to blink back the unshed tears. Pain only reminded you that you were alive. With another small groan you stood from the ground trying your hardest to fight the searing fire in your shoulder, “Stay quiet and hidden. It is best to attack them by surprise. Strider will be back soon. Let us try and wait this out as long as possible.” You whispered grabbing your sword from its sheath at your side.

You waited in silence as the first of the few crept into your field of vision. They must have been lost. No way a pack of orcs were this dumb. Or they were on a special mission. But you could wait no longer as they were likely to hear your breath or any sort of movement for he was a mere step away from you now.

Quickly, you sliced off its head without much of a sound. The loudness of the animals in the night covered up for its lifeless body hitting the ground giving you a second to recuperate and fight back the overwhelming feeling of pain now making its way down your arm.

When you killed the second and third the attention was finally on you. You were not able to be as graceful and let out a cry of pain as you had to use your bum arm to defend yourself. Darting behind a tree you narrowly avoided another arrow coming right for your head this time. But you didn’t have time to panic as the man you had been waiting for finally made his grand entrance. Just as you suspected it was over before it really begun. You were a fine Ranger. But Strider was an expert one.

Leaning back on the tree you let out the breath you were holding in. Never had you been so close to losing someone so quickly on a quest. Never had you been so close to being eliminated. You were usually so much better than this. Strider was getting in your head, and you were losing focus. A Ranger losing focus! That was unheard of. But Strider was your exception it seemed.

“You arrogant fool!” Strider yelled right at you as he came storming over to where you were leaning on the tree. He hadn’t seen the broken arrow in your shoulder nor the way you were holding your arm upright. He didn’t notice the sweat the coated your face or the distant gaze in your eyes. He was mad and he wanted to take it out on someone. That someone happened to be you.

You let out a cry in pain as he grabbed for the arm that you were holding gingerly. Even the smallest movement made it feel like your arm was getting ripped right apart. You had forgotten how painful poison was for it had been nearly fifty years since you’d been struck. The bastards made it as fast and as painful as possible. And whatever this stuff was seemed worse than before.

He moved his hand away from your arm after hearing your strangled cry. Pushing you back up against the tree, avoiding your injury, he felt the sticky liquid coating your outer garments. Blood. Of course, he knew what it was. He had only begun to panic as he saw the deliriousness in your gaze. You were hurt and badly at that. He was not used to this.

Frodo jumped in between the two of you, pushing Strider away just slightly, “She saved my life master Strider! Please have no anger towards her.”

His heart raced as he ordered the Hobbits to light a fire nodding at Frodo that he was done lashing out at you. He knew you needed a helping hand. Not one to hurt you while you were down. Gently, he pushed you down to the ground, “Sit down, nigol.” He’d all but ordered as he helped the Hobbit’s start a small fire. He couldn’t see your wound and you weren’t so forthcoming with information. That and he wanted to see it for himself.

A small smile came to your lips remembering the old nickname he’d given you, “Nigol… you have not called me that in quite some time Strider.”

Brushing your comment aside he asked you, “What happened?” As he sat down next to you waiting for the fire to glow so he could inspect your wound.

You turned towards him holding your eyebrows close together trying your best to bite back the pain, “Orcs happened is all. Caught a poisoned arrow to the shoulder.” Letting out a strangled sigh you sat further back against the tree.

“How did you get hit?” He clarified with more patience in his voice than you were used to. Maybe you looked worse than you felt because he never, ever cut you a break. And you appreciated him for that as you were still alive and usually avoidant of such injuries.

“Ugly bastard was aiming right at Frodo’s small little Hobbit head.” You frowned realizing if you hadn’t noticed Frodo would be sure as dead. You caught Strider’s smile at your crass language for he knew he would never grow tired of your fowl tongue. He loved it about you, “Had to push him out of the way and he nicked me instead.”

“I heard that miss Y/N!” Frodo yelled back at the two of you shaking his head at you, “Elves are not the only creatures with good hearing!” You only smiled as you watched them feed the small fire with more twigs and sticks. It surprised you that Strider ordered a fire for you’d just been ambushed. Who knew what else lurked beyond the trees that kept you hidden.

You let out a strangled laugh feeling the effects of the poison inch its way through your system. You watched as Strider looked at you with concern. It wasn’t often you were the one on the receiving end to such a look. You’d been under his wing for a better part of half a century. You’d gotten really excellent at not getting hurt. It must have been jarring to see you fighting the pain back with such a force. He’d never admit how much he had grown to love you. He didn’t like to see you in pain. Not a bit.

He sighed seeing the fleshy wound, “You must not be so careless next. I have trained you better than that.” He sighed inspecting the wound closely, “I must remove the arrow.” He spoke slowly feeling his heart drop at your startled expression.

You shook your head with a vengeance for you did not like that statement “We are but a few days from Rivendell. Surely they will have healers who can do that properly.”

He bit back the frown as he looked at your arm, “You will not have a few days if I do not get this out.” It wasn’t ominous but simply the truth.

“Is it not an Orc arrow?” You looked down knowing what his answer was going to be but trying to ignore it in your head was proving to be a challenge.

He gave you a solemn nod, “Aye, but it does not appear to be orc poison.”

All you could muster was a simple, “Oh.” Not thinking that was a possibility. You’d still concluded it was a different form of Orc poison. What could they possibly be using?

“It appears to be something much darker.” His frown only deepened as he was studying your wound. He had ripped your shirt where you had been hit to examine it closer. It was turning black far too fast to be the standard orc poison they’d become accustomed to.

You shuddered knowing the pain would be intolerable. You already seemed to be teetering on the precipice between the living world and the unconscious world, “Do your worst then.” You spoke quickly turning away and grabbing at a stick on the ground. When you tuned back he was just looking at you with such a sadness you couldn’t help but to ask, “What?”

He shook his head breaking the stare he had on you, “Nothing. Bite the stick. Don’t fight me. You know the rules.”. It had been a long time since you were at the mercy of his hands. You were but a young Ranger the last time you’d been caught in such a dreadful position. Back then you had medicine to at least dull the pain. This was going to be hell you thought as you placed the soggy stick in your mouth. Something to bite into, crucial to keep you from yelling too loud.

But you didn’t need to worry about that issue too much as darkness took over only a moment after he begun to tug on the broken arrow embedded in your shoulder. Of course, you didn’t catch the concern or the panic that overtook him when he saw you collapse into unconsciousness so easily. He didn’t waste a second longer after the arrow was removed from your shoulder to pick you up and carry you in his arms telling the Hobbits that they had to get a move on for your sake. With hushed complaints the group was off to Rivendell in the dead of night.

It must’ve been the pain overtaking the adrenaline that had subsided that made you fade out of unconsciousness. As your body stirred awake the sun rose in the sky before you. Strider only cradled you closer to his chest when he felt you squirming beneath him. A rather large sigh of relief escaped him as he looked down seeing you slowly blink your eyes back into reality.

“Did you enjoy your rest then?” Strider smiled most genuinely down to you for as much as he loved teasing you it sure made him happy to see you awake once more.

You cracked your own smile at his sarcastic words, “It was nice, thank you for inquiring.” You hummed squirming once more in his embrace. When he locked his hands around you it was only then that you realized he was carrying you like so and he had no intention of letting you out of his grasp.

He chucked seeing your startled expression. It was also new to him too and he really did not want to admit just how much he had enjoyed holding you close to him. It put his normally anxious heart at ease. He had long since found you beautiful. He knew he had loved you when he first heard you speak your mind to a superior all those years ago. For nobody, not a single man, had the courage to speak the way you did. And you had the skill to back it up. That was why he panicked seeing your injured silhouette in the forest. For if you were to go down he had no idea what he would do. You were so deeply embedded in his life he could not even begin to fathom a life without you in it.

He ran faster than he ever had before when Sam and Frodo found him foraging for plants. When they came in blabbering that you had been hit by an arrow he began sprinting in autopilot. It drove him mad feeling like it took longer to get to you. He was there in no longer than a minute to kill the ten or so orcs that were hunting you, the one he loved. He was a maniac when it came to protecting you. He hadn’t meant to yell so harshly at you but he was scared. Terrified of the thought of losing you, his person.

He noticed the pink beginning to return to your face and more relief flooded his overstressed system, “You are getting some color back.” He noticed as he held you closer, “That is a good sign. The poison must not be spreading.”

You let out a long yawn feeling the effects of it all starting to come over you once more, “That is good. It does not hurt as bad either. Just aches a bit.” Your eyes drooped as you tried to fight off the sleep that was overcoming you.

“Rest. Go to sleep, nigol.” He smiled down to you with nothing but love in those striking eyes. He’d been carrying you for hours already, what was another few anyway?

“Nigol.” You hummed remembering the times he called you that all the way back when you first had met him. He refused to tell you what it meant and by the time you finally met an elf you’d forgotten the nickname altogether, “What does it mean?” You inquired hoping he would indulge you this time as you were on the verge of unconsciousness.

He laughed, throwing his head back and all. You admired the way his dark hair framed his fair face as he looked back down at you. He was truly so handsome. It wasn’t fair he was placed in front of you like this and yet, was so unattainable, “I did not tell you fifty years ago, why would I tell you now?”

“I thought I would try.” You sighed, “Does it mean something bad? You only use it when I mess up.” You asked him once you concluded the worst. He often used that nickname early on when you two had been partnered up. It’s use seemed to fade as you had gotten more competent. Yet now when you had a bum shoulder rendering you useless he used it once more.

He shook his head quickly, “It is not bad. I can promise you that.” He eased your worried face quickly with his words.

“Well, I suppose I can accept that.” You didn’t want to push feeling oddly unlike yourself in his arms. Usually combative and wanting to pick a friendly fight you felt like doing anything but that. You just wanted to enjoy yourself in his embrace as you knew this moment would likely never occur again.

He knew you better than anybody else. He noticed how shy you were suddenly acting. Was it the nickname? Were you tired? Was the poison moving faster than he could? He looked down seeing you continue to fight sleep. Usually so powerful you looked helpless in his arms. His eyes softened as he realized how much trust you had to have in him to relax into him like so. You were always on guard, always ready. Frodo was alive because of that instinct. But now you were at his will and he felt more responsible for you than he had ever before.

“It’s Sindarin.” He admitted wanting to give you something more as you had given him exactly what he wanted, you.

Feeling your eyes getting heavier you replied with tiredness in your voice, “I had concluded that Strider. You did tell me you were raised by elves, remember?” Lazily, you smiled up to him laughing as best as your body would allow you.

“It is Sindarin for little one.” He finally admitted to you, “Or mouse.” He looked down at you nervously hoping you’d have a decent reaction to it.

“Mouse? Little one? I should be offended.” You grinned not taking offense in the slightest for you found it oddly adorable he had given you such a sweet nickname.

“Do not take offense.” He spoke quickly, “I did not mean it that way.”

“Relax, Strider.” You yawned once more feeling your head rest of his chest heavily. Sleep was coming on quick, “I am just teasing you. You are so easy to mess with.”

“Sleep now, little one.” He gave you another gentle squeeze letting you know he had you. It was alright. You could trust him as always. And trust him you did as you found yourself in a quick sleep right back in his arms.

“There you are.” Strider’s voice pulled you from the sleep that had overcome you on the road. When you blinked you were stunned to be laying in front of a fireplace in a rather grandeur room. You must have made it all the way to Rivendell which meant you had been out for days at this point.

“Are we in Rivendell?” You tried to sit up before his hands pushed you back down, gently, into the plush elven bed.

“You must lie still.” He ordered before answering your question, “Yes. You have been unconscious for nearly four days. Lord Elrond was unsure if you were to make it.” His eyes were laced with something you had hardly seen on the man in your many years of knowing him, fear. He looked scared, terrified. Yet almost relieved seeing you awake.

“Four days?” You swallowed back your surprise.

He gave you a quick not, “Almost, you even have Lord Elrond worried.”

You sighed, “I did not mean to do that.”

He moved closer, sitting on your bedside. Taking his chance he brushed your stray hair away from your face, “You always do that.”

You just looked up at him, “What?”

“It is just that you always care for others before yourself. As much as I love that about you. Think about yourself for once. Care for yourself. You are far too kind.” He spilled his thoughts to you for he was too tired. Too scared at the thought of losing you he was not going to hold back his tongue anymore for he knew he loved you. He wanted you. He couldn’t see you with anyone else but him.

You blinked back surprise at his outright confession. Sure, the two of you had danced around any feelings for quite literally years. But you would have none of that, as sweet as it was, “You did not say that when I slayed half an orc army with you.” You spoke with a hint of playfulness in your tone. It was your favorite game to play with the man.

He laughed a full hearty laugh. A laugh so pure, one you’d heard so rarely from the man. He only laughed like that when he was at peace. Happy. Comfortable and relaxed. A sight that you could really get used to.

“For that is true.” His eyes searched your for any sign of pain. Any sign that something was wrong. He could not quite believe you were finally awake and chatting with him like nothing had happened. Like you hadn’t been knocked out cold for that long. When Lord Elrond had started to get nervous. Strider was not dumb. He grew up with Elves and knew their tells. When an elf grew worried he knew things were not boding well.

You felt yourself shrinking under his gaze, “What? Is there something on my face? Because that would be embarrassing. I have been asleep for three days and you let something stay on my face for that long?” You rambled not quite sure what you were doing. He was making you nervous. Strider never made you nervous. But when he gave you that earnest look you completely lost yourself to him. How fickle your brain was behaving.

He bit back a laugh sensing your nerves, “No. There is nothing marking your face. I was simply admiring you was all.”

Was he trying to kill you? Your cheeks were sure to be a bright rosy, red for his second confession was bolder than his first, “Admiring me?”

“Indeed. I would not be the man that I am had you not been by me all these years. I thought I was going to lose you. But now that you are back I get to admire you.” He spoke with that soft voice he only used ever so often. It was fascinating to get to know an entirely different side of the man you thought you knew through and through.

“I deserve no such thing.” You laughed trying to shake off the seriousness of his gaze down on you. He did not find your statement the least bit humorous.

“While I do not agree I also do not wish to argue. How do you feel?” He changed the subject even though he might have enjoyed watching you squirm. Placing a cool hand on your forehead, he did not miss the small jump you had in response to his contact. Touches he had given you so often before had changed. Things had shifted between the two of you and for the first time in a long time he was excited. He had a purpose. His purpose.

You gulped back your argument and nodded in agreement, “I feel fine, will you let me sit up now or must I stare up all afternoon?” You quipped hoping your quick mouth would let him know just how fine you really felt.

Shaking his head, he held out a hand for your to take, “You may sit up, but take it slow.”

“I was shot by an arrow Strider. I did not get my legs cut off.” You took his hand letting him pull you up to sit next to him.

He rolled his eyes yet still held admiration in them, “That mouth will get you in trouble one day.” His eyes traced your face as you too just looked at him. It didn’t feel quite real that he could have admired you just as you him. Had you been blind?

You hummed in agreement not being able to take your eyes off his, “Not if you are there to protect me.”

It was he who broke the staring game going on between the two of you as he collected his thoughts, “Indeed, little one. There is nothing truer than that statement.” Gaining some courage, he took your hands in his giving them a gentle squeeze, “Please never scare me like that again for I cannot bear it.”

“I will try my hardest, as long as you promise to do the same.” You nodded towards him feeling bashful in front of the man you’d grown to love. The man you had only hoped to love you as he did. The man you never could have imagined felt the same. Yet here you were.

Giving your hands a reassuring squeeze, he simply nodded to you, “I promise, little one. I promise with my whole heart.”

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blahblahblees · 9 months ago

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hiii! i followed you on your old account and i am a huge fan of your chase davenport writings! could i request something in which reader gets partnered with chase for a project (maybe he's admired them from afar?) and they have to come over to his house to work with him and they end up meeting the whole family? i think that'd be super cute!!

you're such a talented writer and i'm so excited for your new account! good luck!

ヽ｀、☁ヽ｀─── these words ミ chase davenport

✎ ·˚ ༘ ─── math was never really her strong suit and when her teacher tells her she needs to get a tutor in order to pass, she enlist on the help of chase davenport… and his family.

wc: 1,227

chase davenport x fem!reader (use of she/her pronouns & use of y/n)

tw: none!

MATH WAS never really anyone’s strong suit at Mission Creek and if you found yourself passing without needing a tutor, you might as well consider yourself lucky.

And she couldn’t believe that she was standing in front of her teacher with the fattest frown on her face as she told her that she needed to find a tutor or else she would gradually find herself failing that class.

She didn’t want a tutor and she didn’t know anyone that could tutor her, but her teacher, Ms. Burke, told her that she could try and get in touch with Chase Davenport. According to her, he was her top student and would mostly like tutor her with no problem.

And she had no problem with Chase at all, in fact, the boy was adorable in his own way. He wasn’t very tall, in fact, he might only be a couple of inches taller than his brother, Leo. He was also a nerd, a cute nerd. He wasn’t like his other siblings Adam or Bree either. He was his own person and that’s what she liked about him.

They weren’t really friends, but they shared two classes together and worked on an english project together.

So, she wasn’t hesitant in approaching Chase, it was the fact that he was scared to approach her.

Chase thought she was beautiful and you’d be blind to think otherwise. To him, her hair was perfect, the way the light shined down on her skin made her look just as beautiful as she did at night. Just everything about her was beautiful and he was nervous around her.

And when Ms. Burke told him that she needed a tutor and he was the perfect candidate, he was hesitant to jump at the opportunity, but with a big breath and a heavy slap on the back from Adam, Chase found himself almost flying towards her locker.

She looked back to see Chase on the other side of her locker and she gave him a small smile which caused him jerk himself up and prop himself up against a nearby locker.

“Hey, Chase.” She smiled. “Did Ms. Burke ever get in touch with you about tutoring me?”

Chase nodded almost too quickly. “Yes, and I’d be happy to tutor you.”

“Great. That really means a lot.” She said, shutting her locker which caused the boy to flinch. “I’m free tonight if that works for you.”

“Yes!” He exclaimed.

She smiled, letting a small chuckle out as Chase cleared his throat and nodded.

“I mean, yes.” He said. “Yes, I am free tonight. To tutor.”

“Great. I’ll be over at 7.”

With that, you left Chase’s side as he held a small smile on his face, but that smile didn’t stay long when he realized that his family would be home and they would make this tutoring session the absolute worst for him.

CHASE HAD practically begged everyone in the Dooley-Davenport household to not embarrass him in front of her. To stay out of the living room until she left their house a couple of hours later. And he hoped he could actually rely on them to keep their and of the deal.

And soon enough, there was a small knock on the door and Chase stood to open it.

“Y/N!” He smiled. “Come in.”

She smiled, nodding as she stepped inside the Dooley-Davenport house. The house was smelled clean and of floral, something she sure had been the doing of their mother.

“Take a seat.” Chase smiled.

She joined Chase on the couch and pulled her textbook out of her bag.

“Thanks again for helping me out Chase.” She smiled. “I owe you big time.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He smiled, pulling out his own book. “As long as you’re passing, that’s all that matters.”

Soon enough, they began their tutoring session, but that didn’t last very long when Eddy lit up against the wall and smiled a very cocky, almost condescending smile.

“Yes, Eddy?” Chase begrudgingly asked.

“Maybe greet me with kindness as I warn you that Adam is about to enter the kitchen.”

Chase groaned and just like that, Adam enter the kitchen very nonchalantly and opened the refrigerator door and grabbing a handful of junk and laid it out on the counter, making a ton of noise as Chase and Y/N looked onward.

“Can we help you?” Chase asked, getting Adam’s attention.

Adam looked up, smiling towards them. “No, you’re fine. I’ve got this.”

Chase looked over at the girl with a small, fakeish smile as he held his finger up. “Give me one minute.” He muttered and made his way over towards Adam to scold him and ask why he’d come up to the kitchen.

“Here comes another.” Eddy laughed.

Just like that, Leo entered the living room.

“Has anyone see my phone?” He asked. “I’ve been looking for it for twenty minutes too long?”

And another.

“Thank God.” She smiled, joining Y/N on the couch. “I know Chase doesn’t really want us up here-“

“Wait? Why?” She asked.

“Oh…” Bree smiled. “because tutoring is… special… between two people, but I really need some advice about this guy I’m into and you’re the only girl here and-“

“Guys!” Chase shouted, causing all heads to turn his way. “Can we talk for a moment? In the hallway.”

The three followed the youngest Davenport into the hallway and down to the lab, shouting and asking why they had all come upstairs when he’d specifically asked them not to.

Everyone had pretty blunt answers, but Adam claimed that he didn’t think it was today even though Chase had made the agreement hours before she arrived and explained throughly that she would be here… today.

Chase sighed heavily, leaving his siblings alone in the lab and back upstairs, seeing that Eddy had grown into conversation with Y/N and showing her embarrassing pictures of him.

Chase quickly scolded that him and joined Y/N on the couch. He sighed heavily and faced her.

“I’m so sorry.” He said. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

She smiled, chuckling as she did so. “It’s okay, Chase. I don’t mind.”

“Trust me,” he sighed. “you will.”

Eventually, they were able to finally get the tutoring session done and over with without the distractions of his siblings who’d he locked down in the lab.

“Thanks for the help, Chase. I appreciate it.”

“No problem.” He smiled, standing up and following her to the door, opening it for her. “I’m here to help. And I’m really sorry about my family-”

“I told you not to worry about them.” She chuckled. “I like them.”

“You do?”

She nodded, holding her textbook close and bag slowly falling off her shoulder. “I do.” She smiled. “I’m sure we need more tutoring in order for me to pass… but maybe we can just… hang out one day.”

“Really?”

“Really.” She smiled. “You have my number. Just let me know when you’re free-“

“Tomorrow?”

She chuckled once more, nodding as she did so. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Chase.”

With that, she waved him goodbye and Chase shut the door behind him. Once that door was shut, the boy practically jumped to his feet in excitement.

And he was very, very thankful that his family hadn’t totally ruined the night for him.

— lucy has something to say !!

after rereading the prompt given i don’t think this is what they truly wanted lol but thank you for returning it means a lot :)

my request are opened! check out my masterlist and who i write for here: yipyip

check out my rules and such to make sure you’re ask gets answered here: yingyang

#lab rats #lab rats elite force #chase davenport #chase davenport imagines #disney channel #disney channel imagines #disney xd #disney x imagines #chase davenport x reader #chase davenport x fem reader #lab rats imagines #lab rats elite force imagines #imagines #blurbs #wips #writing #lab rats bionic island #chase davenport blurbs #lab rats x reader

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agaypanic · 1 year ago

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can u write a chase davenport x baddie like everyone knows she’s fine asf and has no clue why she’s dating him and he’s just super lovey and fluffy

Chase Davenport Dating a Baddie Headcanons

Masterlist

Request Something!

A/N: a bit suggestive in one part but that’s it

***

Everyone’s surprised that he pulled someone, period

But seeing that he pulled you specifically?

They act like this is earth-shattering news

Lowkey thought that it was a prank or that he was paying you

“So, Chase, when are we gonna meet this girlfriend of yours?” Leo asked as he and the bionic trio entered the school. To be honest, they half thought Chase was joking when he told them he was in a relationship, but wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“Uh… Oh! Seems like right now.” Chase left his siblings to go to his locker, where you were waiting for him. He grabbed you by the waist and pulled you close to him.

“Oh my gosh, she’s gonna slap him,” Adam said as you raised a hand to Chase’s face. But to everyone’s surprise, you used the hand to pull his face to yours and kiss him.

Adam, Bree, and Leo slowly approached you and Chase, clearly shocked. When you pulled away, you noticed them and gave a wave.

“Hey.”

“This can’t be real.”

Chase is absolutely smitten with you

Follows you around like a puppy

He just wants to do anything that’ll make you happy

“Chase, you don’t have to carry my bags.” You tell him, but you still let him take the bag of things you just bought from your hand. Watching his muscles flex as he grips the multiple bags is definitely a plus.

“I want to.” He shrugs, jutting out his elbow to signal you to take it, which you happily do.

The two of you go through the mall, occasionally popping into another store. Before getting to the food court, you stopped in front of Victoria’s Secret. Getting an idea, you bite your lip to stop from grinning and turn to look at Chase.

“You know Build-A-Bear?”

“Yeah.” Chase nodded, soon perking up. “Oh my gosh, we should go and make mini us’s.” You couldn’t help but smile at the idea and his excitement.

“I was thinking something similar to that.” You say, looking at the store, yourself, and then back to Chase. “More of a… real-life Build-A-Bear.”

Despite being a genius, it took Chase a minute to realize what you were insinuating. But when he did, he raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Really?” He asked. You nodded, and the next thing you knew, Chase was running into the store with the excitement of a child.

Before you left the mall, you did end up going to the real Build-A-Bear.

If you like getting your nails done, he insists on paying

When you let him pick the color, he gets all giggly

Almost always chooses blue tbh

When he chooses the color, you ask for his initial on one of your fingers to surprise him

“Hey!” Chase greeted you as he entered the salon. Whenever he dropped you off, he’d always pick something up for you after your appointment and would come back right when you were finished.

You met him at the counter, where he gave your nail tech his card before looking at the hand you were holding up for him. He held your hand, smiling as he looked at the nails.

“You got my initial.” He softly cooed, thumb brushing over the white ‘C’ on your ring finger. “So pretty.”

You blushed as he kissed your knuckles, taking his card back before leading you out of the salon by your now interlocked hands. Even though Chase had treated you like this since the beginning of your relationship, and you should’ve been used to it, he never failed to turn you into a giggly, bashful mess.

“I got your favorite,” Chase said when you got in the car, handing you the bag of food. You took a bite, moaning at how delicious it was.

“Ugh, I love you.” You said, grabbing his face with a freshly manicured hand and kissing him. He gently latched onto your wrist, thumb rubbing over the joint.

“I love you too.” He said, stealing another kiss before reaching over to steal some of your food.

#agaypanic #chase davenport x reader #chase davenport #chase davenport headcanons #chase davenport x reader headcanons #lab rats x reader #lab rats

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gojorgeous · 10 months ago

Text

GOJORGEOUS 1K FOLLOWERS EVENT!

omg. words seriously cannot express how grateful i am to each and every one (of thousand hehe) of you! i hit this milestone way sooner than i ever thought i would and so to celebrate and thank you all, i'll be putting on a little event here. scroll down to see all the fics i have planned!:

Works:

"heatwaves" ↬ alpha!gojo x omega!reader ↬ when a work trip takes you to japan, the last thing you expect is a heatwave... and some guy with blue eyes?

"sure thing" ↬ assassin!reader x target!gojo ↬ you've been hired to kill the satoru gojo. how will you pull it off... and what will you do when he figures it out?

"drunk in love" ↬ gojo x fem!reader ↬ gojo had a few too many drinks at the bar and now he's... at your door?

"better than revenge" ↬ geto x fem!reader ↬ geto comes home angry and ready for... you?

"you're losing me" ↬ virgin!gojo x virgin!reader ↬ after geto leaves, you worry it will tear you and gojo apart... until it pulls you back together.

(creds to @cafekitsune for the twitter template hehe)

just a note that all of these are subject to a little bit of wiggle room and change. i don't use outlines/plan when i write, so oftentimes things sort of take shape in the moment! plotlines may end up shifting a bit.

fics will not be uploaded in any particular order, but "heatwaves" will be first! after that it's up to whatever i feel most motivated to write lol.

as a final note, i am going to be closing my requests for a bit, so that i can focus on these fics. however, i am always open to suggestions, so if you have a cool fic idea send it my way (just don't expect me to write it asap unless it really tickles my fancy lmao)!

fics will be linked here as they are finished and i'll link this post in my pinned so that it's easy to find. thank you again for 1k!! i can't wait to watch this blog continue to expand and grow with all of you at my side. MWAH.

love,

bree

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joelmillerisapunk · 7 months ago

Text

Greece 1.5 ~ S.O.S

Soft daddy!Joel Miller x f!reader

Masterlist ♥︎ Soft Daddy Masterlist

Wordcount: 3,060

Summary: The one where you tell Joel you're pregnant

Warnings: 18+, mentions of pregnancy and pregnancy tests, anxiety, panic, Joel receiving this news and reacting

Notes: A filler between Greece and the next destination. Thank you to everyone who has read, commented, and/or reblogged this au. It was only ever meant to be a one-shot, but I am so grateful for the love it received. Writing this has been so very therapeutic for me and fun, and it's all because of you amazing peeps. Thank you, @saradika-graphics , for the dividers 🥰

As you go through the motions of packing your bags, your thoughts are in a tumultuous storm. You can hardly believe the result of the pregnancy test you took this morning, a tiny stick that holds the power to change your life forever. The two pink lines staring back at you confirmed your worst fears and ignited a whirlwind of emotions within you. Fear, excitement, and uncertainty all battle for dominance in your heart, and you can't shake the feeling that everything is about to change. You'd hoped it was a false positive. But here you are. You're pregnant. The news hits you like a ton of bricks, and you're not sure what to do next. You consider waiting to tell Joel until after your trip is over, but you know that's not fair to him. He has a right to know, and you want to be honest with him.

You picture Joel's face when you tell him the news, the shock and disbelief that will surely follow. You wonder how he'll react, whether he'll be happy or scared, angry or confused. You imagine him wanting to take control of the situation, to take care of you and the baby, and the thought warms your heart. But you also fear his rejection, the possibility that he might not want to be a father, or worse, that he might not want to be with you after this. You take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing thoughts. You need to talk to Joel, to tell him what's going on and see what he thinks. Maybe this is a good thing, a sign that your relationship is meant to be.

As you take one last, lingering look around the room, you can't help but feel a pang of nostalgia. The memories you've made here with Joel have been nothing short of extraordinary - filled with love, laughter, and a sense of adventure that has left you both breathless and exhilarated. You take a mental snapshot of the room as it is now - the rumpled sheets on the bed, the scattered books and papers on the floor, the faint scent of coffee and citrus that seems to linger in the air.

As you make your way out to the balcony, you take a deep breath, savoring the salty tang of the ocean air and the gentle rustle of the palm fronds overhead. Joel is sitting there, his gaze fixed on the horizon, and for a moment, you simply watch him, taking in the strong line of his jaw and the way the sunlight glints off his hair. You hesitate for just a moment before approaching him, feeling nervous. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for the conversation ahead.

"Hey," you say softly, taking a seat next to him.

He looks up, a smile on his face. "Hey, princess," he says, taking your hand in his.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. "Joel, there's something I need to tell you."

His smile fades, and he looks at you with concern. "What is it, darlin? What's wrong, are you okay?"

"I'm pregnant," you whisper.

His eyes widen, and he looks at you in shock. "What?"

You nod, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes. "I took a test last night, and this morning, both were positive.” As the words leave your lips, Joel's expression changes from one of joy to one of shock and disbelief. His face pales, and he stands up abruptly, as if he's been physically struck. You watch in confusion as he stumbles towards the door, mumbling something about needing some air. Before you can say or do anything, he's gone, leaving you sitting alone on the balcony.

The breeze rustles the palm leaves above you, and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore below fills the air. You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the enormity of what you've just revealed weighs heavily on your shoulders. You curl your legs up onto the chair, wrapping your arms around your knees, as you try to make sense of what just happened. You can't blame Joel for his reaction. You understand that he needs time to process the news, but it still stings to have him walk away without saying a word.

—

Joel paces back and forth on the beach, running his hands through his hair as he tries to process the news you just gave him. He mutters to himself, "Pregnant? How? I mean, I know how, but...what?" He stops and looks out at the sea, taking deep breaths as he tries to calm down. But his thoughts are racing, and he can't seem to focus on anything but the word pregnant repeating in his mind.

He starts pacing again, kicking at the sand as he goes. He's never been in this situation before, and he's not sure what to do. He doesn't want to be a father, not right now. He's already done that. But he knows that's not an option. You're carrying his child, and he can't just abandon you. He stops and looks at the sea again, feeling overwhelmed. He's not sure how he can be a good father, not after what happened to Sarah. He couldn't handle that again. He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, trying to steady his nerves. He knows he needs to talk to you to tell you what he's feeling, but he's not sure how.

—

You wait for what seems like an eternity, but Joel doesn't come back. You start to worry, wondering if he's okay. You decide to go look for him, and when you do, you find him outside, sitting on a bench with his head in his hands. He looks up as you approach, and you can see the fear and uncertainty in his eyes.

"I'm sorry, darlin," he says, his voice shaking. "I didn't mean to leave like that. I just needed some time to think."

You nod, understanding his reaction. You sit down next to him, and he takes your hand in his, his thumb tracing circles on your skin. Joel takes a deep breath and looks at you, his eyes filled with fear and uncertainty. "I'm scared, darlin'. I'm scared of what this means for us, for our future. I'm scared of failin’ you and the baby."

"I'm scared too, Joel. But we'll figure it out."

Joel looks at you, his eyes searching yours for something, anything. "But what if I can't be a good father? What if all I'm good at is failing?”

The vulnerability in his voice takes you aback. You never imagined Joel, the strong and confident man you've come to know and love, could feel this way. You take his hand in both of yours, your eyes meeting his. "Joel, you are a good person. You have overcome so much in your life, and you have so much love to give. I believe in you, and I know that you will be an amazing father if you want, but if not,” You pause as more tears threaten to fall, “if not then we can end the trip here and go our separate ways. I'm giving you an out.” You look down at the sand as the tears pour from your face, and suddenly you're sobbing into your hands.

Joel gently takes your hands away from your face and places his there instead, holding you like you're the most delicate thing in the world. Looking into your eyes, he can see the fear and uncertainty in them, and it breaks his heart. He takes a deep breath, "Darlin', I love you. I have loved you from the moment I met you. And I want to be with you, always. I want to be there for you and our baby. I'm not gonna leave.”

You look up at him, tears still streaming down your face. "Really?”

He nods, a small smile on his face. "Yes, really. I want to be a family with you. I want to build a life with you. I want to be the father that our child deserves. I may not be perfect, but I'll do everything in my power to be there for you both.”

You feel a sense of relief wash over you. "Thank you, Joel. Thank you for being here for me, for us."

Joel smiles, his eyes softening. "Always, darlin'. Always."

You lean in and kiss him, feeling a sense of closeness and connection that you've never felt before. When you pull away, you can see the love and adoration in his eyes, and you know that everything is going to be okay.

—

As your flight to France draws near, you take time to rest, feeling the fatigue from the emotional morning catch up to you. After your tearful conversation, Joel takes it upon himself to go out and buy you some essentials. He knows that you'll need all the support you can get during this pregnancy, and he wants to do everything in his power to help you. So he walks down the bustling streets of Greece, taking in the sights and sounds of the market. He heads to a florist first, picking out a beautiful bouquet of pink and white roses. The florist wraps them up carefully, and Joel can't help but smile as he takes them in his hands. He knows they'll just be left here when you leave, but he gets them anyway, hoping to brighten your mood.

Next, he heads to a small café, where he orders a box of pastries, a few sandwiches, and two cups of hot coffee. He knows that you've been feeling a bit nauseous, but he's hoping that the smell of fresh coffee will help perk you up. After that, he makes his way to a health food store, where he picks up some prenatal vitamins and other supplements. He's not entirely sure what you'll need, so he grabs one of anything that seems helpful.

As he walks back to the villa, Joel can't help but feel a sense of anticipation. He knows that this pregnancy is going to be a challenge and change his life forever. He wants to be there for you every step of the way, providing you with the love and support that you need, more than ever, but he can't help feeling a sense of doubt in himself.

Could he really do this all over again without failing?

—

The villa is quiet and peaceful, the only sound being the soft rhythm of your breathing as you sleep. Joel enters the room, his footsteps light on the plush carpet. He looks at you with a soft smile on his face as he watches you sleep. You look so beautiful, so peaceful that he feels a pang in his heart, wondering how you must be feeling. He quietly sets up a little display for you, with the flowers in a vase, the food, and the vitamins, all laid out on the table. With everything in place, Joel grabs his cup of coffee and takes a seat at the table, his eyes never leaving you.

As time passes, Joel decides to step out onto the balcony overlooking the sea. The view is breathtaking, the endless expanse of blue water stretching out before him. He takes a deep breath, feeling the salty air fill his lungs and pulls out the box with the engagement ring he's picked out for you from his pocket, and the delicate gem gleams in the sunlight. He knows now more than ever that this is the right decision, that his plans to propose in France will definitely go forward. He wants to spend the rest of his life with you, to build a family and a future together.

—

You slowly open your eyes, the sleep still lingering in your limbs. As you sit up, you're greeted by the mouth-watering aroma of freshly brewed coffee and buttery pastries. Your eyes widen in surprise as you take in the beautiful display Joel has set up on the table. A vase filled with an array of bright and colorful flowers sits prominently in the center, surrounded by an assortment of foods, vitamins, and prenatal supplements. “Joel what is all this?”

"Thought you might need some stuff to help you through the pregnancy. I wasn't sure if you're allowed coffee, but I figured one cup won't hurt."

You smile, feeling a sense of gratitude and love for Joel. He's been so supportive and kind, and you know that he's going to be an amazing father. You take a sip of the coffee, feeling the warmth spread through your body.

—

As the two of you make your way to the airport, you can't help but feel a sense of anxiety. This trip has already been a whirlwind, and the news of your pregnancy has only added to the drama. As you board the plane, Joel notices a familiar face in first class. It's a woman he used to know back when he was married, a wealthy socialite who always seemed to have her sights set on him. She sees him as well, and a sly smile spreads across her face. "Well, well, well, if it isn't Joel Miller," she purrs. "And who is this little thing by your side? Certainly not the sort of woman I'd expect to see with a man like you." She eyes you up and down.

You feel your cheeks burning with embarrassment, but Joel just smiles. "Now, now, Elizabeth, there's no need to be rude. This is my partner, and she's pregnant with my child. I'd appreciate it if you'd show her some respect."

Elizabeth raises an eyebrow, clearly surprised. "Pregnant? Well, congratulations, I suppose. I never took you for the family type, Joel, not after what happened to - whatever her name was. But I guess we all have our secrets, don't we?"

You can feel your anger rising, but Joel just shakes his head. "Elizabeth, please. We're just trying to enjoy our trip."

Elizabeth sighs, clearly disappointed. "Fine, Joel. I'll leave you to your...family. But don't expect me to roll out the red carpet for your little ragamuffin here. She's not exactly the type of person I'd expect to see in first class." With that, she turns on her heel and walks away, leaving you and Joel sitting there in shock.

"I'm so sorry, I had no idea she'd be on this flight. She's always had a bit of a mean streak."

You sigh, leaning into his embrace. "It's okay, Joel. I know she was just trying to get a reaction out of you. But you didn't have to announce that I'm pregnant, I mean, we just found out, why'd you tell her?”

Joel looks at you with a sheepish expression. "I'm sorry, princess. I didn't mean to blurt it out like that. I guess I just wanted to prove to her that I'm not the same man I used to be, that I've changed and grown. I wanted her to know that I'm happy, that I'm in love. I wanted her to see that I'm not alone, that I have you and the baby, and that I don't need her or anyone else from that damn circle."

"I know, Joel. And I'm proud of you, I really am. It's just a lot to take in, that's all.” You sigh

The rest of the flight is tense and heavy, with both of you lost in your own thoughts. You can't shake off the encounter with Elizabeth, and you can tell that Joel is still feeling guilty for blurting out your pregnancy. But despite the awkwardness, you find comfort in Joel's presence, his warm hand holds yours as the plane begins its descent. You feel a sudden surge of excitement. You've never been to France before, and you can't wait to explore the city of love with Joel.

“You wanna watch a movie? It'll help pass the time.” Joel offers, and you agree.

As the two of you settle into your seats and the movie begins, Joel can't help but feel a sense of guilt and unease. He keeps replaying the encounter with Elizabeth in his mind, wondering if he made a mistake by revealing your pregnancy to her. He knows that he only did it to prove a point, but he can't shake off the feeling that he's failed you in some way.

He looks over at you halfway through the movie to find you sleeping peacefully next to him. He can't help but feel overwhelmed by the weight of his past, by the memories of his failed marriage and the loss of his firstborn child. His mind drifts to the future and all the challenges that it may bring. He knows that he's made mistakes in the past, but he's determined to do better this time around. He looks over at you again, your face illuminated by the soft glow of the movie screen, and he feels a sense of peace wash over him. Maybe he can do this.

As the movie comes to an end, Joel takes your hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. You open your eyes, looking up at him with a sleepy smile. "Hey princess" he says, his voice soft.

"Hey," you reply, yawning. "What time is it?"

"We're about to land."

You look out the window as the plane descends, watching as the green fields and rolling hills of the countryside give way to the bustling cityscape of Paris. The Eiffel Tower looms in the distance, a symbol of love and romance that seems to promise a brighter future.

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