#don't say soccer you are not an american
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Really wished they'd explored the ramifications of sticking a Victorian (Spike) and an Irishman (Angel) in a house together. Really wish this had been cited as causing more of the animosity between them.
#im just saying#despite her accent Drusilla is Romani#and Darla is American or she sounds like it#you gonna tell me an old fashioned Irishman and a fucking Victorian don't have it ON SIGHT#but like that would require actually remembering hes Irish for more than ten seconds per flash back#if they made that the basis for it things would make a lot more sense#also it'd be funny as fuck#the angel gang goes out with them ONE TIME and a soccer match comes on#and suddenly they're banned from their favorite bar and they've got a shitload of property damages to pay#also???#angel's accent acting up around Spike???#usually you can only really hear it if he's annoyed#but Spike pops up and suddenly hes tossing around Irish swear words by the dozen#Spike obviously has a few shitty nicknames for him based on this#Darla might have been upset about Angel's soul and parting her vamp family#but she's never been happier to not hear two people bitching at each other#Giles and Wesley are the only ones that get it#Giles also doesn't care for Spike but he'll occasionally side with him just on principle of pissing off Angel#Wes gets a pass but only just barely and not when they're first getting to know each other#this is also part of why Angel and Giles don't see eye to eye either#Angel being distrustful of Watchers please#when the council is revealed to be shit he literally just shouts I FUCKING KNEW IT#really wish this show wasn't so forgetful of things like this#angel btvs#spike btvs
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what footballers do you think would make good hockey players
hi max!
sorry this is so late i had to really think about this. to me, there are two ways to go about this: one, who (right now) could realistically go onto the ice and play a game of hockey. the other is who (hypothetically, if they played hockey instead of football since they were a kid) would succeed in the sport.
for the first one, i literally cannot think of a single player. sorry footballers of the world, but skating is a skill that im not sure many footballers know how to do. let alone the rest of the sport, hockey is so so different than football. this sounds really mean! i don't mean to be mean, but the athleticism that hockey players have is quite different than most other sports. a lot of other sports' skills transfer between sports well, but hockey is an outlier in terms of popular world sports.
for the second one, honestly not many? the one that stands out to me is probably sergio ramos, mostly because he is very skilled with the ball and blocking shots, and obviously he has killer instinct on the field which all would transfer very well to hockey. he would thrive! he could fight and slash and check to his heart's content with only penalty being 2 minutes in the box, not a game ejection.
i think the funnier question would be what players would be terrible at hockey, like if you put them in the nhl they would just wilt. the one that i think of immediately is neymar! sorry ney, but you and your glass ankles would be absolutely destroyed in hockey! and idk if he has the hand-eye coordination to transfer his jogo bonito with his feet to his hands for beautiful dangles. the other one who i think would suffer is haaland, because even though he is really tall and broad, i think on skates he would turn into bambi! there are other players in the nhl who are that tall and broad, but they know how to use their height to absolutely crush people on the ice, and i don't think haaland knows how to do that.
also could you imagine the instincts football players would have? they hear the whistle, hands up, get called for high sticking! at the end of the third period its a draw, they are ready to go home but there is more game to play! they try to clear the puck over the glass to get a throw in, but there aren't any throw ins, and he goes to the box for delay of game!
tl:dr i would love to see footballers play hockey i think it would be so funny, but i don't think any of them would be good at it unless we lived in an alternate universe where they grew up playing hockey, but even then idk how good they would be
#bestie asks 🫶#max 🦋#this sounds mean i am not diminishing their talent!#hockey just requires an athletic skillset that differs so heavily from football#so i don't think their skills would transfer well#also the climate? the south american and african players would not have a fun time#hypothetically i would love to see an all footballer hockey game#that would be my avengers endgame#this was fun to think about though sorry this isn't the best answer#also max saying footballers instead of soccer players? time to celebrate everyone#thank you for the ask!
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Last one I swear...What If 141...had an American girlfriend and they argued or had to teach them about some cultural differences? Football/soccer...currency...bathroom/loo, etc.
You said last one but we know that's not true. Don't blame you though. Keep them coming.
I love this idea. It's so cute! Translation mixup, confusion about slang, cultural differences, etc. Even though the Brits speak English, it's nothing like American English in a lot of respects, which is why I find this prompt so fun!
Wanted to make this quick and short. Presented in four drabbles. Enjoy!!
For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE
Task Force 141 x Reader
Content & Warnings: brief swearing, brief mentions of alcohol
Word Count: 400
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
“Those are cookies, Kyle.”
“It’s a biscuit.”
“No,” you say, shaking your head. “A biscuit is savory. Cookies are sweet.”
“Your biscuit is a scone.”
“Oh my god,” you groan.
An old lady navigates around the two of you inside the grocery store. Her cart almost clips you.
Kyle glances down at the list in his hands. “What the fuck is an eggplant?”
“We need it for dinner on Tuesday.”
“But what is it?”
You point and Kyle follows. His arm drops to his side and he side-eyes you.
“That’s an aubergine.”
“That’s an aubergine,” you mimic as Kyle laughs.
Simon "Ghost" Riley
The front of the pub is painted all black with intricate gold lettering. A nearby streetlamp casts the front window in a warm glow.
“Remember what I told you?” asks Simon.
You both stare at the pub, neither moving to the door just yet.
“Tell me again.”
Simon clears his throat. “If I’m buying a round, don’t offer money for your portion. Order at the bar but don’t linger. Know what you want. Respect closing time.”
He pauses and you see him turn in the reflection of the window.
“Got it?” he asks.
“Got it.”
“Let’s get bloody pissed then.”
John "Soap" MacTavish
“You’ve got this. Don’t stress.” Johnny grasps your shoulders and squeezes. “It’ll be fine.”
“What if I mess up. Make a fool of myself?”
“You won’t,” he affirms.
“Johnny.”
He sighs and then cups the sides of your face. “You don’t have to say anything but three things.” You breathe deep, and Johnny goes in for a quick kiss. “What are they?”
“Aye,” you say. “Which means yes.”
“Naw,” and this is you emphasize with a terrible accent that makes Johnny wince, “is no.”
“What else?”
“It’s okay to use ‘fuck’ casually in a sentence.”
“That’s my girl,” laughs Johnny.
John Price
“If you’re coming to the game, you’re calling it by its proper name,” says John, pointing at you.
“What?” you ask with pretend aloofness. “Soccer?”
“Football,” he growls with annoyance.
It irritates John when you call the sport by its American name. But you do it anyway just to tease him.
John holds up a jersey. “This is important to me.”
“I know.”
“It’s a game with the boys.”
You pat his shoulder. “I know, John.”
He sighs. “What is it called?”
You remain quite and John arches an eyebrow.
“Soccer,” you answer, grinning.
“You’re lucky you’re so damn cute.”
taglist:
@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath
@enarien @saoirse06 @ferns-fics @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett
@ravenpoe67 @tulipsun-flower @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat @ninman82
@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim
@haven-1307 @voids-universe @itsberrydreemurstuff @spicyspicyliving @keiva1000
@littlemisscriesherselftosleep @statixx-x @umno-yeah @blackhawkfanatic @talooolaaloolla
@sadlonelybagel @kadeeesworld @iloveslasher @sammysinger04 @dakotakazansky
@suhmie @jaggersinclair @jackrabbitem @lxblm @beebeechaos
@no-oneelsebutnsu @kidd3ath @certainlygay @thewulf @lovely-ateez
@taysarchive @gingergirl06 @eternallyvenus @smileykiddie08 @vrb8im
#task force 141 x reader#task force 141 imagine#task force 141#task force 141 x you#task force 141 fanfic#task force 141 fic#task force 141 fanfiction#task force 141 fluff#task force 141 headcanons#simon ghost riley fanfiction#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley fanfic#simon ghost riley fanfic#simon ghost riley#captain john price x reader#john price x reader#john price cod#john price x you#price mw2#john mactavish imagine#john mactavish fanfiction#captain john price#john soap mactavish#john price#gaz imagine#kyle garrick cod#kyle garrick x reader#cw: alcohol
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football player!ellie williams x fem!reader
summary: At the football play you visited to support your best friend, something happens that you didn't expect.
warnings: smoking (weed); slightly implied loser Ellie at the end; swear words; girls kissing (what a surprise); my writing idk
authors note: so firstly I mean football as soccer and not american football, but its not important to the plot so it can be interpreted as either; secondly, sorry for being so inactive I actually needed fucking half a year just for this its actually embarressing, I'm really slow at writing I don't know why, but I'm trying to be more active. I also didnt proofread so sorry for grammar mistakes or something anyway I hope you enjoy this!!
ALSO BIG DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT SUPPORT NEIL DRUCKMANN AND THE FACT THAT HE SUPPORTS ISRAEL!! If you don't know whats going on in Palestine, please go educate yourself because its highly important.
Here are a few links, so nobody can say it's too complicated or annoying to search for information (besides its really fucking heartless, cruel and totally not human to say "I dont wanna put effort in researching" while people are literally suffering and dying because of a genocide):
General information/updates
Brands to boycott
How you can help Palestine
Palestine masterposts: 1 2
--☆--
This evening was the final football game of the season. Everyone was so excited, and your best friend played in the school team, so of course, you came to this game to support her. You already arrived a bit late because you took a nap and didn't hear the alarm, so you quickly searched for your friends who were already sat and luckily saved you a seat. When they saw you coming in, they waved you over to them.
"What took you so long? The game has already started!" One of them said before switching their attention back to the field. "Sorry, I overslept." You explained yourself sitting down on your seat. "You didn't miss much, just a foul from the other team. They're so annoying and clearly playing anything but fair." Another one of your friends said, rolling her eyes while offering you a bag of chips. You declined and began searching for your best friend between all the other players, running on the field. Not even five seconds later, you found her. With the ball in front of her, she ran towards the goal. You joined the cheers of everyone from your school, sure that this was going to be such a great goal until:
A girl from the other team came out of nowhere, running towards her, tackling her to the ground. You gasped. "That was another foul!" One of your friends exclaimed, standing up to better see what the referee would say. But instead of also looking at the referee, your gaze still hasn't left the girl, responsible for the foul.
She looked pleased with herself. What an asshole! You thought to yourself, but couldn't deny that the way her eyes sparkled in the light and her auburn hair moved in the wind was mesmerising. Too distracted by her features, you realised a bit late that she was eyeing you too. A smirk on her lips, she winked at you before walking off the field, your eyes still on her.
"Too bad that bitch just got a yellow card. She deserved more, right?" Your friends, already discussing the decision of the referee, were turning to you since you were the only one who didn't comment on it. Heat rushed into your cheeks as you realised you hadn't listened the whole time, busy gushing over that girl. "Yeah.. definitely more." Was all you said to not keep the attention on you.
"Guys," you added after a short pause, "I'm gonna go to the bathroom real quick. I'll be back."
"Sure."
"But hurry, they're already playing again."
You just slightly nodded before walking off to search for the bathrooms. To your luck, they weren't far away from your seats, so it didn't take too long to find them. As you closed the door behind you, a strong smell of weed filled your lungs. Holding a hand in front of your mouth, you coughed reflexively.
"Having trouble breathin', princess?"
You turned around to see the girl who fouled your best friend sitting on the sink, her legs slightly swinging forwards and back. She still wore her tricot but now had a grey, dirty, worn-out jacket over it. The half up half down bun she had was messed up, probably because of the constant running on the field, and between two of her fingers, she held an already half smoked joint.
Her smile rose as she noticed your gaze lingering on her again. "Y'want a photo? It'll last longer." She chuckled, finding this old ass joke very funny. You rolled your eyes at her words but couldn't help the smile, forming on your lips. "What are you doing here anyway, don't you have to play?" She blew out the smoke she held in her mouth before answering your question. "My coach replaced me. Said I needed a break before playing again." You just nodded because you didn't know how to keep the conversation going. For a few seconds, you both just looked at each other in silence. After taking another drag from the joint, she leaned forward, offering you to do the same.
"No, thanks. I don't smoke."
"Thought so." She chuckled. After a short pause, she added: "Not in a rude way, of course. Y'just don't look like you'd do drugs." Even though you knew it was childish and totally stupid, you now wanted to prove to her that you were indeed someone who could take drugs. So you took the joint out of her hand, carefully brought it to your lips, and inhaled.
You probably shouldn't have inhaled this deep because now you were coughing like someone poured tons of sand down your throat. It surely felt like it. When you calmed down a bit, you looked up again, handing the joint back to the girl on the sink, who was clearly amused. "What a brave girl." She said with a shit eating grin on her face. "Come here, I'll show you how it's done right."
She gestured between her spread legs. As you moved towards her, she leaned in, reducing the space between the two of you. "Open your mouth." She then proceeded to take a drag from the joint. As she moved closer, your breath hitched. Your eyes wandered from her gorgeous green ones down to her lips, and heat rose in your cheeks again. Without breaking eye contact, she blew the smoke she had in her mouth into yours. Reflexively, you closed it.
"Now hold it in."
And that's what you did. The smoke filled your lungs, this time a lot less painful than your first drag. After a few seconds, you exhaled slowly, a small smile of pride on your face.
Your faces were still very close, and silence fell upon the both of you again. The tension thickend. Her emerald green eyes stared directly into yours, abruptly blinking down to your lips. "Can I kiss you?" Your voice was nothing more than a whisper, fading into thin air. A smirk grew once again on her lips before nodding and then proceeding to lean in and closing the gap between the two of you.
Once her lips were on yours, she cupped your cheek, her fingertips brushing slightly over it. You felt like your heart was going to jump out of your chest. Her lips were so soft. You couldn't really describe the feeling, but it felt good. Like you were on cloud nine. You quickly synced with the rhythm she set, leaning forward so that her back met the wall behind her.
Your hands wandered behind her neck, beginning to tug on her hair slightly. A soft groan escaped her lips at the sudden impact, which sounded like music to your ears.
A smile formed on your lips once she broke the kiss to catch her breath. "What're you smiling at?" She looked at you irritated, which just caused you to chuckle.
"I don't know. You're.. pretty."
Silence followed after that.
"Pretty enough to get your number?"
Ellie wanted to bash her head against the wall at her cringe comment. She thought she'd definitely crossed the line now. But you just began laughing, quickly covering your mouth with your hand to muffle the sound.
"Sorry. Don't get me wrong I-", you interrupted yourself by holding up your finger to signal her to wait and began searching for your phone in your purse. Fuck. You thought as you realised you left it in your jacket with your friends and hurriedly searched around for something to write on. Ellie just watched you amused, catching on to your plan. She snatched a pepertowel out of the spender and offered it to you. You just gave her an awkward smile, fishing a half empty kajal out of your purse and scribbled your phone number on it.
As you handed it to her, she took it with the same smirk she had in the beginning. "As sad as it is, I think I have to go back on the field. My coach probably misses me by now." She added hesitantly while sliding off the sink and walking towards the door. "Cool meeting you, though." The click of the closing door was the last thing you heard before you were completely alone in the bathroom.
With the paper towel still in her hand, Ellie made her way over to the rest of her team, almost jumping with joy and thanking every mighty power for letting her survive the whole conversation without completely losing her mind or embarrassing herself. She'd definitely save your number as soon as she could. Actually contacting you was a whole other story.
#ellie williams#ellie tlou#ellie x reader#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams x you#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams x f!reader#the last of us#the last of us 2#tlou x reader#wlw#ellie x you#ellie x y/n#football player!ellie williams#ellie the last of us#sapphic#tlou ellie
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picturing a scenario where Evan meets Sam's footballer boyfriend and is unintentionally (?) intimidating.
evan came by to visit (check on her, make sure there's no threats in her immediate vicinity) and he's in the green room and she just got done with an episode (Rachael Ray and Victoria Beckham played scrabble for 40 minutes) and it's just so nice. Sam's still riding that post-show high so he gets to listen to her talk uninterrupted about her new friends, T2's latest achievements, who she's dating.
Speaking of. The boyfriend walks in. He makes a point of seeing Sam once a week after her show, doesn't want her to forget about him. He gives Sam a peck and she introduces him to the guy on the couch. One of the people from secondary school she's always talking about. He's all smiles when he gets up and they shake hands, very polite. The boyfriend is polite too, in that uniquely dismissive way only the English can be. It's not like he wants to encourage these chats between Sam and her old hangers-on.
He turns to his girlfriend and ignores Evan. Or tries to. Something's off. When he glances over, the man is staring at him unblinkingly, face a neutral mask. Has he blinked at all since this interaction started? He's still standing, and the three of them are in an awkward triangle.
Sam doesn't notice her old friend being territorial, no surprises there. She's asking him about soccer practice and he's annoyed. He's corrected her a hundred times, but she's the most American person he's ever met. So yeah, he gets a bit short with her. She laughs it off but then gets called away by her incredibly frazzled producer, and he's left standing there with the bastard, who he's just realized is taller than him.
"so you're with brentford." Flat, grating accent. Did he look him up?
"yeah, mate. You a supporter?" Something moves out of the corner of his eye. The shadow of a table distorts for a fraction of a second. Is something wrong with the lamps in here?
"No, sorry. I don't watch a lot of sports aside from basketball. But I like the logo. The bee, right?"
He doesn't answer. He's watching the table shadow mutely. It's moving towards him. How is it moving towards him.
"did you know there are a lot of bee species that are kleptoparasitic? They're called cuckoo bees. Like the bird. They find pre built hives, eat the host bees' larva and lay their own eggs in the cells."
The hair on his arms is standing on end. He's sweating. It's not his imagination - the shadow is warping, sending out tendrils that are inching closer and closer to his shoes. With the primal awareness of an early human staring into the darkness searching for predators, he understands suddenly that he is in real, immediate danger. And he's paying attention to the wrong thing.
He turns his head slowly to look at Evan. The man Sam always described as "a real sweetheart." His face is gaunt, eyes sunken and blacked out. The realization that he doesn't have a shadow hits like a freight train.
Y̵͍͛͝o̵̬̾̚ú̵̥͇̉ ̵̛̙̱̄ŏ̶͙̒͜k̴̙͉̉a̴̳͒̇y̴̜͝ ̸̧̀̈́m̷̙̗͌a̸͔͙̾ň̷̫̍?̴̦̆ ̸̻̅S̶̪̈ͅo̵̥̓̋m̶̼̔è̵̳̌t̶̘͐h̶̿͜͜i̸̝̙͑n̵̬̻̕g̷̻͇̋́ ̷̝̭͘ẃ̸̥͍r̵̟̓̕o̵͇̭͆n̶̩͖̾g̸̮̽?̸̥̙̃̚ ̵̪͚̌̈́
No idea what he said. His voice is layered and gravelly, and it seems to register in the brain via the nervous system rather than the ears. The edges of the room are going black, the darkness is closing in. Fuck fuck fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck
"sorry about that guys! Vikki and Rach wanted to say bye! Honestly, they are both just so nice!"
Sam breezes back in and the second she enters the room everything goes back to normal. There's some more small talk that he stammers his way through, gets out of there as fast as he can without being rude.
Later, when they break up, he tells himself it's because she was too busy for him, too american.
It's quite some time before he sleeps with the lights off.
#Misfits and magic#Mismag ficlet#Mismag drabble#Mismag 2#I'm having so much fun with this season#It feels like theres a lot to mine from the 3 year gap#Evsam#Kinda? If you're looking for it
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hi hi can i request a max verstappen x footballer smau but she plays for real madrid femenino and we know max is an fcb supporter (also for the sake of the smau, real madrid femenino can be just as good as barcelona femeni) and everyone going crazy when she just takes him to an award ceremony as her plus-one. no soft launch no hard launch and everyone including the grid and christian horner and madristas and everyone is shocked
MADRIDISTAS [MV1/33]
Max Verstappen x footballer!RealMadridFemenino!reader
Masterlist
Summary: Y/N is one of the biggest rising stars in women's football, playing for Real Madrid Femenino. When she's nominated by Women's Football Awards for the Player of the Year, the last thing anybody would expect is her plus one to the ceremony being Formula One driver, Max Verstappen. Not only is he the World Champion himself, but most importantly, Max is a known FC Barcelona fan. Talk about making friends with the enemy...
Warnings: I have very limited knowledge of football, so everything in this story is based on my quick research. If you're a fan, please don't come for me! Though any advice would be much appreciated, because I have more football requests in my inbox XD.
Author's Note: Hi Anon, thanks for the request! I have to say it was quite challenging for me at the start, because I don't know many things about football, but at the end it turned out fun and good. Hope you like what I did with this social media au! :)
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tagged: realmadridfem
yourusername And it's a wrap!🥈⚽️ Thank you to the whole team for another amazing year, we fought hard and we will continue to fight for the Champions League title next year as 2023/24 runners-up. Hala Madrid!✨🇪🇸
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user1 Love the way you play!
realmadridfem Hala Madrid!💪🏆
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yourusername 💯
user2 💥💥💥
user3 Vamosssss
user4 GO GIRLLL🤩🤩🤩🤩
user5 you really deserved to win the finale, the referee was totally biased agains you!!!
user6 Yeah, even as a FC Barcelona fan I didn't think it was fair🙈
martagarcialopez19 amazing Y/N! 🫶
yourusername Thank youuu!💖
user7 wait does y/n know some people from motosport???
user8 No I think it's just girls supporting girls in sports dominated by men tbh ☺️
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user7 oh yeah that makes sense
user9 Buen trabajo que equipo tan bueno con todas y en lo personal muy guapa [Good job, what a great team with everyone and personally very pretty.]
marisabel_rguez The dream team 🙌
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yourusername Yessss
user10 HALA MADRID 🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍
user11 literally the prettiest soccer player I ever saw😻
user12 you mean FOOTBALL?!😂🧐
user11 sry i'm american so i'm used to saying soccer
user12 well that's WRONG girly😂
user13 Princess
messages between Y/N and Max
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yourusername Short stop back home in Monaco before flying to London for Women's Football Awards and my nomination for Player of the Year 🤞🌷
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user1 so pretty
maitetxuu_10 The nails Y/N 🤩
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yourusername Not better than yours though 😚
user2 i don't watch football but maybe i should start bc of you
user3 Wow you're such a cutie 😍❤️
charlottesiine great work out together!
yourusername Agreed! We should definetly hit the gym together more often 😂
user4 omg wait how do they know each other?? didn't expect y/n y/l/n to be friends with ex-wags??
user5 Idk but they both live in Monaco so it's easy to know basically everyone who's your age there xdd
yourusername True user5, they don't tell you how small the country actually is 😭
user6 SHE IS MY ROLE MODEL EVERYBODY
user7 👏👏👏👏🔥🔥
lucybrozne Seems like the Monaco sun suits you 😁☀️
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yourusername Oh thanks Lucy! 🫶
lucybrozne 🫶
user8 i love that despite fcb beating madrid they're still friends outside of the field🥺
user9 WOW you should be a model
user10 So sad your talents aren’t being fully appreciated in Madrid.
user11 oh c'mmon she probably wouldn't play for them if she felt unappreciated 🙄
user12 but tbh I think she should be the captain.... like she's literally the best player of them all BY FAR
user13 Nah I don't like her. Hope she'll never be a captain🤮
user12 then go away? lol
user13 damnn the 3rd picture did some unholy things to me 😩
user14 right?! I don't think I'm straight anymore🫣
user15 I have no idea who she is but let me tell you she's gorgeous
user16 ✨✨✨👑🎀🌹
twitter
messages between Max and Christian Horner & Max and Carlos Sainz
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tagged: maxverstappen1
yourusername Turning him into Madridista duh.
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maxverstappen1 Y/N I love you... but that's never happening ❤️
yourusername Liar! You complained for a week straight about how that referee in the finals wasn't fair and we should have won agains Barcelona! 😘
carlossainz55 hahaaa mate she got you😂
maxverstappen1 😒
user1 OMGGG we converted him on our side!!!
user2 A sad day to be a FC Barcelona supporter and F1 fan😓
user3 A happy day for Madridistas!😍
user4 damn I may have to start watching football
martagarcialopez19 you're glowing! also thanks god now I don't have to keep the secret anymore xd
yourusername Love ya! 🫶
user5 The IT WAG
user6 can we take a moment to appreciate how cute maxie looks here?🥹
realmadridfem You go girl! Convert new fans!🤩💪
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user7 I'm still shocked by this whole thing 😹
user8 you're not the only one lol
user9 the second picture????
user10 Max is so lucky man🥵
marisabel_rquez ¡La pareja poderosa!😍 [The power couple!😍]
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user11 this post murdered me and dragged me all over slaycity with how much it served 🤭
user12 exactly! her and max are so hot and pretty
user13 🤍😍💯🥳 Hala Madrid!!!
maxverstappen1 posted on instagram
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maxverstappen1 My girl ❤️⚽️
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THE END
Author's Note: Thank you for reading the whole thing! I'll appreciate likes, reblogs, follows and comments, or any other way of support. Let me know what you think about this pairing and please tell me if there are any football errors, because I have another request about footballer!reader waiting for me. Have a great day! :)
#f1 x reader#fanfiction#f1 fanfic#formula 1#fanfic#x reader#formula one#couple#f1 imagine#reading#max verstappen x reader#mv1#mv33#mv1 imagine#mv1 x reader#mv1 fic#max verstappen#writing#social media au#social media#social media fic#smau#f1 smau#f1 social media au#f1 fluff#football#womens football#aesthetic
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american eagle screech | golden girl
pairings: paige bueckers x barca!reader
summary: the beginning of it all
warnings: douchebag frat boy, alcohol,
notes: lowkey a slow start but it’s only chapter one 🫡just so yall know kenza could’ve handled herself but i needed a plot 😭✊🏾
THE BRIGHT STADIUM LIGHT ILLUMINATES THE NIGHT SKY AND FELT LIKE IT WAS BURNING KENZA'S SKIN AS SHE RECEIVES THE BALL.
"Creoxells receives the ball from Lewis. She dribbles down the fields. Creoxells charges through the defenders!" Kenza could hear both the announcer and crowd scream as she launches the ball into the net just as the buzzer for the end of the game fills the open arena, bringing the score to 3-0 with two of the goals belonging to Kenza. Kenza's teammates ran to her to celebrate as Kenza tried to slink to the tunnel quietly. The smile on her face grew when she spotted her friends in the crowd cheering her on.
"Yale wins the soccer game folks!"
Kenza could hear the crowd do their usual chant for her, "Long Live the King," as she searched deeper in the crowd and locked eyes with Paige to blow her a kiss.
“Just fuck already,” Nika mumbled making Paige send her a death glare.
Paige's hands are always freezing. Kenza's hands are always so warm. So maybe that explains the butterflies that erupts in Paige's stomach when Kenza held her hands much like this moment, when the Creoxells girl led them into a celebration party for the soccer team. Paige couldn't take her eyes off of Kenza in her crochet bra with a green long skirt. The traditional waist beads were hidden by the skirt but the outline was prominent enough for the basketball player to admire.
"-aige. Paige! Did you hear a word I said," Kenza stops in her tracks to pouted at the 6 foot girl. Kenza herself was 5'8" yet whenever she was around Paige or others from the basketball team, they managed to make her feel short.
"My bad, Kenny, what were you saying?" Paige kept a tighter grip on the girl's hand as they began maneuvering through the crowd again.
"I asked when do you want to leave this place. Personally, I would rather be watching the Princess and the Frog right now."
"Kenny, this party is literally for you and it's only 8pm," Paige laughs at the girl who groaned into her chest. "Tell you this, if we stay for about an hour just so some people see you then we can go, I promise."
Kenza stared at the basketball star outstretched pinky until she interlocked their pinkies and kissed it with Paige doing the same. The athletes moment was swiftly interrupted by their favorite freshman tackling Kenza to the ground.
"Kenzie-pooh! You did amazing. You played just like me back if the old days when I dabbled in soccer," KK rambles as she was pushed off of Kenza by Azzi who hugged her and kissed her cheek.
"You did great, Kenz," Aubrey congratulated as said girl was now hugged by Nika. Paige side eyed her teammates as she watched them steal her friend away from her, but she couldn't blame them. Kenza's smile could light up anyone's day and her positive aura was known to draw people towards her.
"You need an edit with the American eagle screech on it," KK added the screech at the end to emphasize her point, making Kenza giggle.
"Kamorea, you are so cute," Kenza replied hugging her junior.
"Aw shucks," KK fake blushed and playfully swatted Kenza. The conversations kept going between the group for awhile. Kenza's stunning smile plastered on her face as she laughed at her friends jokes and banter. The girl lets out a sigh before talking into Paige's ear due to the loud music, "I'm gonna get a drink really quick."
Paige looked down at her before copying her actions and bending down slightly to talk to the girl, "Do you want me to go with you?"
"Don't worry Paige, I'll be fine," Kenza said before making her way to get her Sprite, with Paige staring until she was out of sight.
"Paige please tell her how you feel already. We can't do this anymore," KK groaned.
"She doesn't like me like that, I promise," Paige gave the same usual excuse making her friends roll their eyes.
"Listen, we have both known Kenza for awhile and I know that she never looks at her girlfriends the same way she looks at you," Azzi pointed out.
Paige looked at the time on her phone as the hour time was up. Paige sighed and got up from her chair, "I think y'all are delusional and seeing things. Kenny doesn't like me the way I like her. Never have, never will. I gotta go cause I promised her we can go watch Princess and the Frog."
The group of friends watched Paige walk away. "She's whipped."
Meanwhile, it had taken Kenza a few tries before she found the cooler filled with sodas in the partially secluded area. She opened the can and turned around only to be met they a human wall in front of her, that went by the name of Connor James.
"Kenza, if you wanted me you should've just told me," he began. Kenza recoiled at the sight of him as well as the stench of alcohol on his breath.
"First, don't call me that. Second, I don't want you. Matter of fact I don't even want to be in the same room you are in so excuse me," Kenza attempted to move around him but was stopped by his gnarled hand on her elbow.
"Don't touch me," Kenza tried to break free of his hold but was unsuccessful as his grip tightened.
"Come on babe, I saw the kiss you blew to me at the game, don't be like that," Connor said, trying to pull her closer to him. At that moment, Connor was harshly pushed to the floor by a blonde figure.
"What's your issue, Bueckers!" Connor yelled, holding his head.
"You didn't hear her say not to touch her?" Paige responds as she stands directly in front of Kenza.
"Fuck off, Bueckers. Is she your girlfriend or something?"
Something about his statement seemed to send Paige over the top. She was blinded by rage and nothing could stop her. "Yeah she is, what are you gonna do now?" Paige seals the deal by wrapping her arm around Kenza's waist and pulling her close.
Connor got up, looking like a fish out of water before stomping away.
Paige turned her head, focusing all her attention on the girl in front of her. "Are you okay? Did he touch you?"
Kenza smiled and kissed Paige on the cheek, making the blonde's cheeks paint red. "Thank you, Paige."
"Let's go and watch Princess and the Frog.”
#paige bueckers x reader#alexia putellas x reader#barca femini x reader#woso x reader#uconn wbb#paige bueckers fic#golden girl series#fc barcelona#barcelona women#paige bueckers x black!reader#paige bueckers x black reader#woso soccer#woso x platonic!reader
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One of the most biting ironies of the “class in America” current discussion is how few people have really wrapped their head around the biting reality of the fact that actually making and growing things in the U.S. makes them much, much more expensive if you are paying your employees a living wage, even when you cut out the middle men, and there’s no easy workaround for this conundrum without fucking over the working class somewhere - the people who make and grow the food, or else the people who can’t afford to buy it. And all that being said, it is fucking insane how conservatives and trumpets hold up an idea of “small business” and “American made” and “small family farms” at the same time many of the most famous national cultural signals of people being “elitest” are when they support exactly that. So many of the most hated signs of “elitism” in America aren’t golf courses, private chefs, private jets, or the mar-a-lago. They’re the exact manners in which liberal and often but far from always middle class people work to support smaller farmers and producers. What is a bigger sign of American elitism than the soccer mom purchasing kale from a farmers’ market with a reusable bag. Than the farmer’s market? What about the urban coop? The Etsy small business seller? The made in America small scale brands that often do cost in the hundreds for a pair of jeans? The urban one off coffee shop that charges $11 the avocado toast with the avocados certifiably not supporting a cartel?
The point is not that these items are accessible - they are point blank, not. The point is that it is fucking insane that the party and people upholding “made in America” and “small family farmers” as the answer to fixing the economy also are so incredibly checked out of actual economics that they support billionaires with no intention of actually doing those things in order to punish the middle class liberals who are actually doing exactly that. And before someone says that the problem is capitalism as a structure - yeah it absolutely is, but that doesn’t stop the guy picking lettuce or running the combine harvester from needing to earn a living wage RIGHT now, or that these are often the lifestyle choices of the most relatively pro-left wing economic voters in the country, for which they have been ruthlessly punished as elitist for.
also like trump voters aren’t exclusively working class there’s plenty of rich people (the issue specifically is that voters for trump versus harris are not divided by class, and that working class people don't systemically chose harris OVER trump when ethnicity and location aren't taken into account, not that trump has disproportionate sway over the working class as a whole) and it says a lot that made in America and small business shit is stuff they make fun of for being the tastes of clueless liberals so let’s see how that works for you!
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lucky strike / CL16
Summary: Charles x American!female!reader - F1 comes to Sin City and you unexpectedly run into a certain someone.
Warnings: gambling, alcohol, cussing, use of pet names (A LOT), flirting, one moment of implied jealousy
Requested?: Sort of! Thank you to everyone who voted for Charles in the poll!
Author's Note: Charles won out in the poll, so here you go, everybody! (Of course I HAD to use The Charles Vegas Podium Picture). Also, I listened to Lucky Strike by Maroon 5 while writing.
one in a million ; my lucky strike
Well, you thought the whole F1 thing was absolutely ridiculous. You couldn't care an ounce less about Formula 1, so you certainly weren't happy about all the complications of it coming to your city.
You would call yourself an all American girl, and you're proud of it. If any racing, NASCAR. Football is the sport with the brown ball you throw- NFL, not the white and black ball you kick. That's soccer. You have the greatest food, the greatest mix of cultures, the greatest weather. If you didn't know better, you'd say you have the greatest country, too.
You watched a Formula 1 race when you realized the whole Las Vegas Grand Prix thing was actual, and when you saw that (firstly) it was honestly pretty boring, and (secondly) the only American driver is basically the most sucky one, you decided it would be pretty hard to get into it.
You're a Vegas girl, and you're proud of it. You're actually from Los Angeles, California, but you moved to Vegas to chase your dreams and live the life you dreamed of a year ago with your boyfriend, and it was so worth it.
Now you identify yourself with Vegas even more than you do with the Los Angeles Rams, despite the fact that your boyfriend broke up with you seven months ago and left to go be a prodigal son in New York City.
You decided Vegas was perfect enough for your clever hand, and you'd continue to be a prodigal daughter right where you're at.
But now the Grand Prix is the newest thing, and you don't like it at all. All these people flooding in, like as if there's not already enough people. Just to watch some cars drive around in circles, closing up main roads? No, you're not into it.
Your girl friends all seem to think this is just the best thing, and you discuss it across the table with two of them. One says, "Honestly, the McLaren duo are the hottest."
"No way- Ferrari! Have you seen Charles Leclerc?" your other friend disagrees.
You snort in disbelief and say sarcastically, "How about neither? So you guys only care about this because the racers are hot? Give me a break."
"Well," one of your friends starts, crossing her arms across her chest, "They are hot. At first, I wasn't so sure, but, I mean, come on! Maybe we could get glimpses of them when they're in Vegas!"
"Or meet them!" your other friend pipes in.
You scoff. "Good luck with that. Aren't these guys self-focused millionaires with too much money for their own good? Probably all greedy idiots who hook up with every half-sexy girl who comes along. So if you're into that, sure, waste your time trying to meet some hot plutocrats, with the one percent chance you might get f*cked like crazy for a night before they forget about you and move back to their mansions across the world! F*ck, is race car driving even a real sport? It's f*cking driving cars. I could do that!"
Your friends don't really argue with you, because you're right. And clearly, they do only care about the hot racers, because you figure any real fan of the sport would argue with you.
Two days before the Strip is supposed to be closed up for the Grand Prix, you find yourself submerged in the vibrant energy of Wynn Las Vegas, the dazzling lights and sounds of the casino floor swirling around you. The scent of alcohol lingers in the air, a reminder of the drinks you've indulged in throughout the night.
You slip between two people to reach the roulette wheel, holding your newly bought chips, with money you've earned earlier in the night.
Bets are placed around the table over and over, as you earn more and more chips. You feel someone nudge your shoulder, and a cocky male voice comments next to you, "You're having a good night, huh?"
"Every night is a good night," you remark back, not even glancing up at the man talking with you. He seems to have some sort of accent that you can't place. Perhaps French?
Which means he's probably from Louisiana. Possibly Quebec.
Probably some rich idiot F1 fan who can afford to travel half way across the country for the Grand Prix.
You don't plan to even give him the light of day.
"Until it's not," he says as you watch the roulette wheel spin once more.
You smirk and feel his eyes on you as you collect more chips.
The game goes on, and you think he's gotten the message that you don't care to converse with him, because does shut up.
But now it's the last bet of the game. You take a sip from your glass and feel a stupid, risky streak in you.
Some idiot part of you that's drunk and wants to push her luck way too far.
You place a straight-up bet, all your chips on the number sixteen.
You can feel eyes on you, and the same man next to you from earlier says, "Are you stupid?"
You chuckle. "Possibly."
"You're going to lose all your-"
"No, I won't." You straighten your back, staring at the wheel. It's true, you've earned a lot of money throughout this game.
And honest, it is true that you're stupid.
But it's also true that for some reason, you're confident.
"So you're overconfident and risky? I like that," comments the guy next to you. "But you're going to lose all your money. All that good luck for nothing..."
"You'll see," you breathe, ignoring his little flirt. "It's going to land on sixteen."
"Sixteen, huh?" This man's hazel eyes sparkle, and something in you tells you that you've seen this guy's brown locks, bright dimples, and perfect stubble before.
You've seen him somewhere. Recently. Like some guy you could haven't been drunk with, but the memory is fuzzy.
But you weren't drunk with him.
Despite being sure you've seen this guy before, you're also sure you've never met him before, either.
"Yeah," you nod, looking away, staring as the roulette wheel begins spinning. "It's my lucky number."
You're not looking at him, but you can feel him grin next to you. "Your lucky number, huh? Just so happens, it's mine, too."
You snort, rolling your eyes. "Is that some lame attempt of a flirt?"
"No. It really is my lucky number." By his tone, you can tell that grin has downgraded to a smirk. "But if you'd like to see a lame attempt of a flirt, that's an option, too..." His voice lowers as you feel his arm snake around you, and his hand land on your waist.
You gently shove it off as the wheel begins to slow. You hold your breath, watching, this stupid French boy no longer even a fraction of your concerns. All focus is on your slight potential lucky strike.
And then the world stops as the wheel stops, too.
On sixteen.
And then it all comes flooding back. "Oh my God!" you squeal stupidly, covering your mouth as there's rounds of, "You've got to be kidding me," "No way," "It's impossible!" and "How lucky is this girl?"
You feel surges of shock and pride as you collect all your money. Once you've received it, after such luck, and earning a fortune, you decide you're going to have a drink. Or more than just one.
But when you turn, there's that guy again.
"What's up?" you ask, the grin on your face impossible to wipe off.
"How did you know it was going to stop on sixteen?" he questions, and he looks a little more handsome than he did before as this time he succeeds in taking your waist.
"Are you trying to pick my pocket?" you question warily, though, shoving his hand away.
"Not at all," he chuckles, "But you're a smart girl, aren't you? And I think I might be a lucky boy. Come on- I'll buy you a drink."
You snort. "No way, pretty boy! I can buy my own drink, after what just happened! How cocky are you?"
"Call me cocky, or call me rich, but either way, you're too sexy to have to pay for your own drink."
You scoff at this, but figure that you can't really let down an offer of free stuff. You'll be the first to admit you're greedy. Once of the biggest reasons why you gamble is because you want money- duh- and as much of it as you can get.
So soon, you're sitting at a table with this random guy, looking into his eyes, holding your drink in your hand. After barely a moment of hesitation, your curiosity finally gets to you, and you ask, "Who are you, anyway? I could have sworn I've seen you somewhere recently."
He gets a smug look on his face, which you don't like, before he says, "You really don't know?"
Your nose crinkles up in confusion, and for a second you feel ultra worried. Is this someone that I've met, that I should remember? Am I a terrible person for not knowing who this is...?
But then he says simply, "My first name is Charles. Charles Leclerc."
You stare at the taller individual, knowing you've heard that name, trying desperately to wrack your brain of it.
And then, suddenly, it hits you.
Loudly, in your head, in your friend's voice, in the exact tone she said it, 'No way- Ferrari! Have you seen Charles Leclerc?'
"Wait-!" you say in shock. You can see the satisfaction on the man's face, Charles, as you realize. "So, you're one of those F1 racers? Like, you race for the Ferrari team?"
He snorts and nods. "I'm surprised you didn't recognize me right away. Do you live here in Vegas?"
"Yeah," you say simply, taking a sip of your drink.
"So I take it you hate Formula 1, then? Because how else are you living in Vegas right now and don't know my name, or recognize my face?"
"You sound awfully prideful."
Suddenly, he smirks, and drags his finger across your jawline, pulling your face to look up at him in the process. "Maybe so. But clearly you're not so much better yourself, Miss Bet It All On Sixteen."
You cock an eyebrow at him and return his smirk with a challenging grin. "Sure, but I was right. I won what I wanted."
"Hmm... Well, what if I'm about to win what I want?"
"Oh, yeah? And what is it that you want?"
He leans in closer, so you can feel his hot breath tickle your ear as he utters simply, "You, baby."
You smirk. "We just met, buddy. I'm not that stupid."
"I think you're just playing hard to get."
"Or maybe it's just hard for you to get me," you counter.
"Well, I like your spunk. And your good luck. I think I might need a little bit more of that." He leans away a bit, and comments, "And I think I foresee a little bit more of luck in your future."
"Oh, yeah?"
"Yeah," he smirks, leaning in closer. In barely any second, his lips meet yours, and though you know you should, there's no way you're pulling away now. He wraps his arm around you, urging you to lean into the kiss. You melt, letting him.
You don't know what it is.
But in this moment, you gently let your lips part, inviting his tongue to slip in between your lips, allowing yourself to, yes, make out with basically a stranger.
It wouldn't be the first time, but it also isn't something you do for fun whenever you feel.
When you finally force yourself to pull away, the first thing you breathe is, "How did you do that?"
He grins, and is clearly red in the face. But there's a look of shock on his face, too. As if his flirty cover was just confidence, and not because he gets tons of girls like this...?
Or maybe you're just reading too much into his expression.
Either way, he responds with, stroking your cheek, "No idea. Maybe I just have a way with you?"
You roll your eyes as you check your purse. No, he didn't pickpocket. He meant to kiss you. You stand up and say simply, "Well, I better get going n-"
"Sorry, what?" he suddenly snatches your arm back, pulling you back down to sit again with a surprised chuckle. "You just met a famous millionaire race car driver who bought you a drink after you won big money in roulette, let him make out with you, loved it, and now you're just going to casually walk off?"
You grin. "What? Do you think I was impressed by you? Think again, honey. Just because you drive cars fast and make ridiculous amounts of stupid money for it, and that you're insanely handsome- none of that means I'm any more impressed with you than I am with any other guys I meet on my night outs."
"Hm," he raises an eyebrow, and says, "What if you could get more from me, missy? Clearly, you're out for yourself and will do anything for a good deal. And you're f*cking sexy about it, too. So what if I had something else to offer you?"
You let yourself sit down at this, looking at him expectantly.
He smirks, clearly loving that he's 'won you over,' before saying simply, "Would like a free pass to the whole weekend, and a pass for the paddock?"
Your eyebrows scrunch together, and your eyes widen. "I- what?"
His smirk grows even bigger. "You heard me."
You inhale sharply, but cross your arms across your chest and come out sharply saying, "Unfortunately for you, I couldn't care less about Formula 1. In fact, I'm starting to dislike it a lot. But thanks for the offer."
His jaw drops, and his eyes practically pops out of his head, which gets a chuckle from you. For a moment, he's actually speechless, before he finally gets out, "Are you aware of the offer you just refused?"
You raise an eyebrow, not able to keep the cheeky grin off your face. "Probably not, but that's okay. Why, anyways, would you give a stranger such an opportunity in the first place? You probably have ulterior motives, and I think I can pretty much guess what they are, mister. You don't even know my name yet."
"Oh, God, you're right," he laughs, taking another sip of his drink. "Well, what's your name, princess?"
You roll your eyes, and tell him.
He grins. "It's been wonderful meeting you." He digs in the pocket of his light blue jeans, and pulls out a pen and a restaurant receipt. "I know you think you'll be able to forget me so easily, princess," he starts, scribbling something on the receipt, "but trust me- you'll be wanting this." He takes your hand and presses the receipt into it, before standing up just like that, and saying with a wave as he turns to walk off, "I'll talk to you later, angel."
You look down at the receipt to see a phone number scribbled on it in chicken scratch. But the numbers are clear. And though you walk out that night rolling your eyes at this Charles's boldness and cockiness, with an abundance of money you've earned that's a lot more worth the stupid grease-stained receipt, the moment you get back to your apartment, the first thing you intend to is putting that stupid number into your phone.
"This is stupid," you comment as you slide into the backseat, next to Charles.
He just rolls his eyes. "You won't be saying that by the end of this experience. Besides, you were the one who decided to text me, like I said you would. You were just playing hard to get."
You scoff. "Oh, shut up."
"You look lovely, by the way," he comments in a lower voice. "I like that skirt." You look down at yourself. You're wearing a matching crop top shirt and short skirt, your sunglasses holding your hair back away from your face, and brown sandals.
"Thanks," you snort, crossing your arms and looking out the window, turning your gaze away from the Monégasque driver. (Yes, you did, despite yourself, look him up last night, just to know who the heck this guy even is.)
(You also were sure to look up his salary.)
(Ridiculous.)
(But also intriguing.)
Soon enough, before you know it, you're walking alongside him, about to enter the 'paddock.'
Makes it sound like a bunch of horses racing.
But when you're there, surrounded by it, in the moment, you don't think rude comments like that.
You stop, taking in the high life atmosphere. The revving car noises, the lights of The Strip on the 'racetrack,' the crowds, the music, the richness, and the challenge.
Your breathing falters, and your heart beat quickens as your hand involuntarily finds Charles's wrist and grips it as you gasp, "It's... extraordinary."
You glance to Charles's face to see him softly grinning. His hand slips down to hold yours as he comments, "You seemed like the type of girl to love it."
Your smile widens. "I've been here so many times. On The Strip. But... it's not the same. How did they do it?"
He begins walking, pulling you along by your hand as you look around. "That's just Formula 1 for you. There's nothing in the world quite like it, Y/n."
He leads you by the hand toward the Ferrari garage. Once you're there, he says, "Want to meet my teammate, Carlos?"
"Don't know who Carlos is, but sure..." you say vaguely, taking in the large piece of machinery- the Formula 1 car- in front of you.
He chuckles. "You're f*cking adorable," he murmurs, before leading you away to see Carlos.
He's a well-built man with fluffy dark hair, tan skin, big brown cow eyes, and stubble. Pretty much looks like exactly how you'd imagine a Formula 1 driver to look.
He nods respectfully. "Hey, Charles," he says, and shakes your hand with a friendly wink. "This your new girlfriend?"
You look up to see Charles smirk. "Not yet."
One of Carlos's thick, dark eyebrows cocks up, and the suggestion of an amused smirk travels on his lips for a second. "Ah, I see."
"Charles!" you snap, your eyebrows scrunches together. "Not ever."
"Well, we'll see about that. So far, I've been the right one, now, princess, haven't I?"
"Pfft. I was right about sixteen, wasn't I?"
He rolls his eyes as Carlos says with a chuckle, "Well, it will sure be interesting to see how this plays out," before moving on with his life.
Charles takes the time to show you around, and halfway through the tour, you blurt suddenly, "So, this is all the Italian team and stuff. Isn't there an American team?"
"Hmmm," Charles snorts as his eyebrows travel farther up and he fights off a seemingly somewhat mocking smirk. "There is."
"Why don't you show me them? Don't they have an American driver? Like, Carlos is Italian, right? Isn't it protocol or somethin'? Anyway, isn't it called Williams, the American team, or something? Some guy named Logan something that's an American racer on there-"
At this, Charles can't seem to hold it together anymore, and doubles over laughing, essentially, at you.
"What?!" you demand indignantly.
"You really are clueless!"
"I-"
"Alright, alright, Y/n. Haas is the American team. They don't have an American driver- German and Danish. No, Carlos is not Italian; he's from Spain. Williams is British, and yes, Logan Sargeant races for Williams, and he is American. About the only thing you got right."
You roll your eyes with a shrug. "I told you I don't give a damn about this stupid sport."
"Whatever you say, Miss Starry Eyes."
So, first Charles takes you to Haas, where you learn, surprisingly, that not all the racers are young hotshots like Charles and Carlos at least seem to be. They're friendly enough there, but really don't care much to give you any of their time, so then Charles suggests to go to the Williams garage and see if there's Logan to bother. You agree to that, so soon, you're entering Williams.
As soon as you see Logan, you know he's the American. You can see it in his stance. You can see it in his golden blond slightly sweeped hair, gray blue eyes, and strong jawline. "That's Logan, isn't it?"
"How'd you know?"
You shrug, breaking off from Charles to Logan. "Hey! You're the only American 'round here?!" you ask with a friendly grin.
"Huh?" he asks, looking up, in the most United States of America way. "Oh, hi," he says in what you perceive as dumbly, with a friendly smile. Ah, that's more like it. None of these posh Monacan boys and hot Spanish men- this guy is just like home sweet home!
You can practically hear the eagles cawing over the Rocky Mountains!
"You're Logan Sargeant?"
He nods. "I am. And you are...?"
"Just some Vegas girl dragged here by Charles."
"Ah... so you know him?"
"Well, now, unfortunately, yes."
His eyebrows furrow, but he chuckles at the same time. Though this guy isn't nearly as handsome or charming as Charles, there's something about him you like a bit more-
Suddenly, a hand is on your waist, and hot breath says in your ear, "Got to be getting back to Ferrari now. Come on with me?"
You blush and nod. "Right, Charles."
You have no idea what to think of him.
"Podium?! Uh- is a podium good?!" you ask, eyes wide as Charles brings it home in second.
"Yeah, yeah, it's good!" some guy you don't know wearing red near you says.
"Oh- Alright, well- That's good, I suppose!" you respond a little manically.
As soon as Charles as the chance, he finds you. He still has champagne on his race suit and his face is glistening with sweat, and there's no way you can deny it- he's sexy. When he reaches you, he wraps his arms around you, and his stunning eyes seem to burn into you. He can't fight the grin off his face as he says lowly, "Get why my lucky number is sixteen, baby girl?"
"Ah, stop with that," you snap, your voice cracking. You don't know, but this seems- all this seems-
Way too important.
You reach up to touch the number sixteen on his hat, before taking it off his head and slipping it on your own, backwards, on impulse.
He grins. "You can keep it. Not like you'll need a keepsake. You won't forget me."
You bite your lip, giving a quick nod, still studying his handsome face. Your eyes linger on his light pink lips, which arch into a perfect cupid's bow, as you murmur absently, "You seem pretty confident about that, huh?"
"Of course I do. Looks like you might be my little good luck charm, hm? Can't be letting you run away from me, can I?"
"Hm. Well, we'll see about that."
"Still playing hard to get?"
"Not playing. I just am hard to get."
"Whatever you say, darling," he comments with a shrug, walking off.
The French accent is pretty sexy.
Your eyes flutter open, and the first thing you see are the big earnest eyes of Charles Leclerc, staring back into your eyes. "Morning sunsh-"
Your immediate reaction is to scream and promptly slap him across his pretty face.
He grunts as his hand flies to his cheek to cover it up, and he says, "Hey, hey, calm down!"
But your eyes scan the room. It's clearly a hotel room. There's only one bed: the one you and Charles are laying in right at this moment. You're wearing a large black T-shirt and big blue gym shorts very tightly tied to fit your waist. Charles is dressed in a grey hoodie and jeans with a white T-shirt underneath, his regular jewelry, and white sneakers. So clearly, he's already showered and gotten dressed. He smells like his rich cologne, and his hair is all washed and fluffy and clean. If you weren't in a slight panic right now, you'd have wondered if you could touch his hair and feel how soft it is.
But!
As you're about to gasp out questions, Charles sits up and gently sets his hand on top of yours. You become aware of the pounding in your head as you bite your lip nervously. Charles looks at you earnestly, and says calmly, "Hey, you don't have to worry. It's okay."
"What happened?" you exhale.
"Nothing," he soothes. "We went out. You got more drunk than any of us though you should. I didn't know where you lived, so I took you to my hotel room. Gave you clothes to change into, and we went to sleep. Nothing more."
You swallow an anxious lump in your throat. "How do I know I can trust you? Please, just be honest with me. I won't be mad. You didn't know any bet-"
"I didn't do anything. We didn't do anything. Okay?" he leans in closer, and reaches to cup your cheeks in his hands. "'Kay? Can you just trust me?"
You bite your lip, but slowly nod. "I suppose that's the only thing I can do."
Over six months later, you stand on the boat, staring out at the Mediterranean Sea, smelling the salty breeze in the air, feeling content, wearing a loose button down, light blue jean shorts with a brown belt, your slew of bracelets, white sneakers, and a headband holding back your hair.
Suddenly, Charles is up next to you. "Hey, princess." For months, you've had what you stubbornly call a 'situationship,' whilst Charles calls you his girlfriend.
Because you love Vegas more than you love Charles (or at least that's what you like to say), you refused to leave when Charles did. You like taking risks. Just not the 'travelling halfway across the world for a hot guy' kind of risks.
But you stayed in touch. Charles made sure of that.
Well, he meant it when he said he'd make sure you'll never forget him.
But then Formula 1 came back to the States, to Miami, and you knew you'd have to make the trip. The flirty comments and romantic tension thick enough to cut ensued as soon as you and Charles set eyes upon each other, like as if it hadn't been six months or so since you'd last seen each other last.
It just felt like-
Somehow fate is involved.
Well, when Charles invited you to the Monaco Grand Prix, that was an offer you felt you couldn't let down.
And, boy, was that the best descision of your life.
To see Charles win his home race like that, and to be there? Just thinking about it now gives you goosebumps. Charles had wrapped his arms around you after the race, his eyes a little damp, and you felt something more.
Like he really cared.
If you didn't know better, you'd say it was like he really loved.
Loved you.
But, no. Of course not. That can't be.
Can it?
Well, all night you partied. You were in on the fun. You also made sure to pay a visit to the Monte Carlo casino, as you obviously must.
You had amazing luck, once again.
On this thought, as you feel Charles approaching from behind you, you comment into the wind, "You know, I'm starting to think you're my lucky charm, honey."
He chuckles, coming up next to you. "Oh, yeah? That's what I said six months ago when I first met you, you know. I've been starting to think the same thing about you."
You snort. "Maybe so, Monaco race winner."
He smirks, and you can feel the pure joy radiating off him. He slips his hand into yours as he murmurs, "I was so lucky to meet you."
I smirk. "I am pretty awesome."
He rolls his eyes, but squeezes your hand. "So, do you like it here in Monaco?"
You nod vigorously. "Gosh, Charles, it's amazing."
"Better than Vegas?"
"Well- I don't know if anything is better than Vegas..."
He leans in closer and speaks lower. "Well, would Monaco be better if your good luck charm just so happens to reside here?"
"Hm..." you smirk, flushing a bit. "I'd have to think about that, prince."
"Yeah," he nod, his tone softer. "Why don't you."
There's some silence, as you watch the sun begin to set, reflecting off the sparkling water.
Charles leans even closer to you, his hands gliding around your waist, pulling you towards him. He leans down, gazing deeply into your eyes. Then that stupid flirty grin appears on his face again. "F*cking gorgeous you are, one in a million. I struck lucky with you. My lucky strike."
He closes the distance between you, his soft lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss. The heat of his body against yours sends shivers down your spine, igniting a spark between you as your tongues dance together in a sensual embrace. Connected.
Maybe it's not fate.
But it is most certainly luck.
And in this moment, with the lips of the winner of Monaco sucking on yours, you feel like the one who struck it lucky.
#sports-on-sundays#f1#f1 fanfic#f1 imagines#f1 one shot#formula 1#formula one#formula1#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 x you#formula one x reader#formula 1 x reader#f1 fanfiction#f1 2023#f1 2024#f1 blurb#f1 drivers#f1 fandom#f1 fic#f1 fics#f1 fluff#f1 grid x reader#f1 racing#f1 scenario#f1 scenarios#forza ferrari#ferrari#f1 oneshot#f1 oneshots
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PUNCH OUT HCS CUZ I DONT GOT TIME TO DRAW THEM BUT THEY WONT LEAVE ME ALONE!!!
Something something the voices
This is so long I'm sorry
No I'm serious I started derailing I think
LITTLE MAC
Mexican-American! His ma is Mexican and immigrated to The Bronx, where she met Mac's dad (who we have nothing on lol, he dipped before Mac was born).
His ma? Oh yeah, she died :( He doesn't know how, just that he came home one day (latchkey kid) and saw the cops surrounding the apartment. Placed him in an orphanage but got into fights a lot and deemed him a 'problem child' (literally just an autistic kid grieving the loss of his mom)
As said, Lil Mac is autistic! For the most nonverbal and thus uses ASL, but also speaks English and Spanish from time to time(English from Doc, Spanish from his mother and childhood friends who helped him keep up). Spanish is his preferred language tho.
Narcolepsy haver. It usually doesn't interfere much with his actual boxing matches since he's learned to feel when they're coming and deal with them accordingly. Took him and Doc a while to figure out that he had it since they just chalked it up to his prior malnutrition(which also impacted his growth, capping him at a whole 4'9)
Affectionate(?): must be initiated by him. He's very much for hugging and holding hands but if someone else does it first he's like :/. Only people he's ok with is Doc Louis so far.
Trans: transman who figured himself out pretty early when he only played soccer with the boys out in the mud. His mom cut his hair super short as a 'punishment' for always getting dirt in his braids but jokes on her he loved it. Doc has been helping him with hormone blockers, and with the prize money saving up for surgery 🙏 you can do it maccie boy!!! No one else in the ring knows and he'd rather keep it that way thank you (both out of nerves but also why do they need to know 🤨 what are they the fbi???)
Fashion sense: if you try to get this boy in anything but a tank/shirt and shorts he will explode. This man rocks flip flops and sneakers for days and it's all that's in his wardrobe (maybe another hoodie or two). A lot of them are rather worn but he hates the idea of "wasting" money so he uses em till they're literally impossible to wear.
Very spiritual: believes in el Mal Ojo aka Evil Eye and such. (Mostly from his mother and the women on the block that took him in from time to time). If he thinks your vibes are off, he will do an egg cleanse and swears that they work (they do i can attest to that chat).
GLASS JOE
EDS HAVER!!!!! (Ie Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome). This man has glass bones and paper
he don't care he will fight till he's dead! That and boxing actually does rlly help him with his joint pains. He finds it kinda funny when ppl worry about him like "sorry guys i gotta lie down real quick i think my ribs went criss cross". He prefers to get around on wheel chair but can get by with crutches(to which he just lays on the bed forever afterward)
Cat dad!!!!: less him having an actual pet cat than him just tending to whatever feline that crosses his path. May or may not have some scratches on his hands don't worry about it.
Actually really good friends with Mac: (we're going to pretend that they aren't literally thousands of miles away shut up). One of the few to make an actual effort to learn ASL rather than pick it up slowly or have Doc translate. In turn, Mac has gone about learning bits and pieces of French, enough so that both can communicate in their respective language and the other can (mostly) understand them.
This man is such a critic like what do you mean the food lacked a certain "je ne sais quoi" or the movie "insisted upon itself". He really wants to be nice but if it has any touch of French, he is going to murder it because it isn't French enough or actually accurate.
Had an ex fiance to which they broke off for reasons he'd rather not elaborate.
VON KAISER
Tics: he has em. They worsen under stress, but occur randomly or if overstimulated
Served in the military before being discharged. He doesn't like talking about and his tics start acting up if the topic is brought up.
Widower: wife died fairly early into their marriage and he was absolutely distraught. They both always talked about having kids, and a part of him still wants that, but it won't be the same without his Engelchen.
Career: he had wanted to be an engineer, but after serving in the military couldn't bring himself to go into it. That, and being a boxing teacher let's him tend to kids, even if it means getting socked in the stomach. He always acts like a strict instructor, both from his own experience in the military and because he wants to keep the kids at arms length. Also his wife being a kindergarten teacher had nothing to do with it nooooo
Close friends with Hondo and Glass Joe. Bear Hugger is a friendly fella but his loud and boarish disposition gets him riled up. Gets along well with Little Mac and if Doc isn't present for whatever reason, he's good at helping Mac calm down if he starts getting overstimulated and vice versa.
He also totally doesn't have Lil Mac be a pseudo son to him and think about his kis could've been potentially his age who said that.
Emotional support animal: German shepherd called Hugo. That's his baby right there
Disco Kid
That man's a fruit your honor!!!! No but fr tho he's a queer man living his best life.
Also a drag queen! (Name pending). Doesn't really care for how others perceive him and goes with the flow really.
Definitely fought with his dad a lot when he was younger, but as he grew his father came around and now they have a pretty solid relationship.
He's a total mommas boy tho he will literally die for her. He also has a little sister who he plays dolls with. (And yes she asks him to say it in his girl voice iykyk)
Gets along with pretty much everyone besides Mr. Sandman really (Aran Ryan is an interesting case. You heard it from the grape vine but they have an on and off relationship).
An art major for sureeeee. Idk what kind but im sensing something
Really good with machinery though. Usually just so he can fix up his car and stereos.
KING HIPPO
He is for sure not human. I always draw him more beastly but he's probably closer to whales/hippos than actual people.
Like hippos, all that's fat is really just pure muscle. No cuz google up a hippo and remove their skin them bitches are SHREDDED!!!
Naturally very affectionate, although he prefers his pals in the minor circuit (and Lil Mac. Yes this is Little Mac supremacy everyone will be his friend).
Absolutely loves cocktails. They come with fruit how can he not. Funnily enough he despises apples though.
Has multiple wives: a primary wife and secondary wives. Has kids with most of them and naturally, the first born son will take his place when the time comes. (He does love all his kids and wives equally tho so don't worry about them).
Surpringly eloquent" while he can't exactly form human speech, his writing is impeccable, both in letter and in word choice. No one knows how he does it with those claws and big ass hands.
PISTON HONDA
This man has so much manga it's insane. This mf probably has a whole room dedicated to his collection. Yes most of them are Shojo and yes he has a lot of Sailor Moon merch and memorabilia. (although he does also enjoy other such Mangas like JJBA and Inuyasha. I'd say he's embarrassed about it but bro was reading Sailor Moon out in the open so id say he's at least fine with reading it publicly.
Has gotten some of the other boxers to read some of his recs and watch some animes with him (he will force you to watch Madoka Magica and Revolutionary Girl Utena. It's only a matter of time.) It's also how he got into other shows like Candy Candy (by Mac), The Golden Girls(by Disco Kid. He likes his oldies what can he say), and pretty much any and every telenovela ever created (Wow wonder who it could be).
Has a pet Shiba Inu that he loves to bits but DAMN does she test his patience sometimes. And he has a lot of it.
Also began learning ASL when he caught wind of Glass Joe doing it, although he practically forced Lil Mac to learn Japanese because damn it, sometimes the dub doesn't do the show justice!!!
Has two older sisters!!! He's the baby of the family lol and it don't matter if he can pick em both up they'll still pinch his cheeks and tease him.
BEAR HUGGER
Trans: a transgender man who's loud and proud. Never bothered with top surgery he ain't cutting off his girls!!! He could pick up the vibe™️ with Little Mac but he's not the type to try and force the conversation. He'll let Mac come to him on his own time, and if not then that's fine too.
Loads of animals: similar situation to Glass Joe, although now it applies to all animals. Bro is a Disney princess. He sticks his arms out and birds fly to perch on them. Can seemingly hold an actual conversation with animals and no one knows if he's losing it or if they are.
Family: an only child, but with loads of cousins who fill in that sibling role. He's actually really good with kids and takes care of his nieces and nephews from time to time. He has thought about being a dad from time to time (he'd really like to have a girl) but always decides against it.
Affectionate: to the highest degree. That man is always asking if ya need a hug and it ain't just a threat for a grapple/ear clap. He and King Hippo get along swimmingly as a result (if only they didn't die if they went to each other's respective home country 😔)
Prosthethic: ya cant tell cuz of his clothes, but he has a prosthetic leg! (Stops a bit below the knee). If he ever takes it off for whatever reason, he always goes "aw man, guess I'm on my last leg" and the crowd goes mild. Thinks it's the funniest shit ever tho and he won't stop making the joke (Little Mac made it worse by giving an actual chuckle. Mac you've doomed us all with your horrible sense in jokes. I blame Doc)
GREAT TIGER
Loves cats: absolutely adores them. This man has a cat onesie I can feel it in my bones. He hangs out with Glass Joe solely for the cat (also the baguettes).
Gossip: he has a horrible habit of gossiping that he's tried to curb but astaghfirullah sometimes he's gotta talk about Don's receding hairline😔 Mac isn't helping him pinche chismoso!!!
Doesn't like going to parties involving alcohol with the WVBA because almost always he's forced into designated driver. Usually he just teleports away because he's not dealing with that yall are calling an uber!!!!
Actively avoids searching up ingredients in things he eats (like gummies) because if he doesn't know it's not Haram.
Sneakerhead: very proud of his collection. Also really into rap music (we don't talk about his career...that never happened chat) and you will hear it blasting from his car.
Sister!!! Stealing this from a fic but he has a younger sister who works internationally. If she's there with him she serves as his translator.
Magic: not limited to clones or what's seen in the game, but it's his preferred type of magic. He can also transform things and people into other things/creatures. He accidentally made Mac into a rabbit and everyone had a field day with that one.
DON FLAMENCO
Chismoso: this man will shit talk anything and anyone. If you talked with him chances are you're part of a gossiping ring with the older ladies who work nearby. I think they're talking about how you're a puta but idk
Former womanizer: this man banged anything that had a beating heart and a pretty body. It wasn't until he met Carmen that he knew what love really was. Once they got together UGHHHH this man was a fucking loser for his Carmen. Took years to win her over but it was all worth it for his amor.
They talk about kids sometimes, but this mf childish that he sees it as having to share his beloved fiance. (They for sure have kids later down the line tho. Give them a minute damn!)
Beef: tbh he doesn't really get along with anyone; he just dislikes them all to varying degrees. He and Mac hate each other on the principle of one being Hispanic/Latino and the other being a Spaniard. Do NOT leave them alone for any reason. Last time they both argued about the spanish word for 'straw' and sent each other to the hospital where they argued some more.
Telenovelas are his life force. If you interrupt his showing of La Rose de Guadalupe, he will literally kill you.
Got Aran Ryan into it by accident: he was watching Teresa in the living room when Ryan was crossing to go to the kitchen for a bite. An hour later he's sat on the couch hand in heads. They both watch it together now.
Great cook: he makes a means paella and he knows it. Always makes it to show off 'Spain Superiority'. Little Mac hates his guts but he's not gonna turn down a free paella.
ARAN RYAN
People joke and say he has brain damage which is why he's so crazy, but he actually does have CTE so 💀
Family: aside from his general knack for recklessness, having a piece of shit mom and an even worse dad (who of course had to die in a freak accident at work) does not exactly leave you the most sound. He has loads of sisters and brothers, being the second oldest of the bunch (with one older sister of which the hate is mutual). It's a big factor to why he doesn't want kids; he's spent a big chunk of his life working to raise them.
Boxing: to him it was both an outlet for his eventually anger issues and a means to raise money in the same punch. It did lead to fucking him up physically, as after a particularly nasty bout with Mr. Sandman, an eye got knocked out of place so he's working with only 50%.
Very jittery: you can never catch this man staying still. Even in his sleep he either tosses or twitches a leg or arm. Trying to make him stay still just makes it worse.
Repressed Bi it's not even funny. His excuse for his on and off relationship with Disco Kid is "well he's basically a lady!" He'll come to terms with it eventually, but that's one hell of a long road.
Superstitious: biggest thing for him is luck. he breaks a lot of shit but mirrors are not one of them!
Low-key misogynistic: "my sister punches harder than ye, boy!" Like damn your sister must be knocking ppls jaws clean off the freak. If he ever finds out that Lil Mac is trans it's just gonna be him like "SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT" cuz now he's gonna get canceled on Twitter dot com by Super Macho Man😔😔😔
SODA POPINSKI
Married!!! Has a tiny little wife that he loves to bits. She will scold him and he's just all :]]]] wife...I luv her sm... he's a total wifeman
They've been trying for a kid (bro you can't just say that...gross). Naturally this man wants a shit load of them god help that woman.
A major reason to why he's been making efforts to curb his drinking habits! Of course he still hits the bottle every so often, but he's for sure gotten better than his first time in the ring.
Cooking skills: surpringly decent believe it or not! Anything with meat he's killer with and he always makes ridiculously large portions. (Yes it's because he wants to make something nice for his lady let me make a wife guy!!!!)
Really likes Beyonce. Major fan actually he goes to so many of her shows.
Horrible with social cues. This man does not understand when he's being too overbearing (to the detriment of his friendship with many alas😔 especially Von Kaiser and Little Mac). Tries to apologize by offering them a soda like 🥺🥤
Speaking of Little Mac, he once tripped over him (6'7 vs 4'9...oh dear). Flash forward to them in the hospital. They both swear to never speak of this again (also Soda gets him authentic mexican cola so like...we're all good here).
BALD BULL
Anger issues galore: got his father's temperament(don't we all???) And in addition to being bullied a lot as a kid, he hasn't really found the best way to manage. Usually he just goes out to a secluded field or heads out to the sauna, but the press has done little favors to his mental sanity.
Cat magnet: not of his own volition. They are drawn to him like flies to honey. He doesn't really mind them and are a nice way to de-stress.
Music taste: while he usually listens to classical music and instrumentals, he loves himself some girlie pop music. You pull out his ear buds and just catch "Girls just wanna have funnnnn" Before he punches you into the sun
Cattle farm: Inherited from his family, he loves all his cows to bits. They are his pride and joy. He has Glass Joe come over sometimes for some cheese and wine.
Isn't particularly close to any of the boxers beyond Glass Joe and Soda Popinski. He spends some time with Lil Mac, usually just to go out and get some ice cream or something. He likes the kids company cuz he isn't as energetic or demanding in the same regard a lot of teens are.
SUPER MACHO MAN
He for sure has a purse dog named princess. It's a white pomeranian with a pink bow i just known it.
Was a child actor! His family got him into the world early, staring as the sweetheart of whatever show or movie he was in. In his later teens, he was the heart throb before he left the scene as an adult to focus on boxing. His parents were at first disappointed, but after seeing the money roll in? They had no problems after that.
Romance: as expected, nothing permanent. He usually just has loads of flings or one time hook ups that never amount to anything, and he doesn't bother looking for anything "real".
Probably has a kid out there somewhere but if he does, he's denying it till his dying breath.
Similarly to Don, he doesn't really get along with anyone. For him it's just a matter of his own superficial nature. He absolutely detests Mac, but is the only one to know ASL fluently due to a former childhood friend. He doesn't use it beyond wanting to be bitchy in secret.
I know he's super tan but I'm not allowing him to be white. He's a lil something...will figure that out later.
MR SANDMAN
Yeah ngl I don't got a lot for him. I don't think i have anything actually. Huh
He mains Kirby in smash.
He used to have a lisp when he was younger
Yknow how some parents will have kids super far apart? Yeah his parents did that what do you mean he was 22 and he got a new baby sister. What the freak.
He absolutely hates Macs guts but also can't take him seriously on account that he's 4'9. Whose child is this. Literally, when he first entered the ring, he asked whose kid was this and that children weren't allowed in the ring. Lo and behind this was the schmuck that knocked the lights out of 12 other fully grown men, and he was coming for your ass next.
BONUS
DOC LOUIS
Took Mac in when he was around 9, formally adopted him as soon as he could. Heard of a ruckus for a missing child some minutes away and when he came back with Little Mac, he thought he found his parents. Then he got the situation explained to him about how he didn't actually have anyone, everyone just agreed to look out for him. There he officially took him in as his son.
Put the kid back in school after learning he hasn't been in since his mom died. He's considerably behind for his age, but has taken great strides to catch up. He's now just a year behind.
Definitely a major learning curve when it came to raising a child, much less one who barely spoke english(if he spoke at all) and prone to outbursts. It's been years since then and he can't imagine a world without that kid.
Had a wife but they divorced after he found out she had an affair. Sent him on a downwards spiral but he managed to pick himself back up. Having a kid to raise really helps him out.
Close to his sister, but that's about it. She's who gave him pointers on how to raise a kid, as they were about the same age. He doesn't think hes have done as well if it wasn't for her.
Former coach of Bald Bull, but parted ways after arguments on what exactly that wanted to do moving forward. They're amicable now, though.
#punch out wii#punch out#punch-out#punch out!!#little mac#soda popinski#aran ryan#doc louis#disco kid#glass joe#von kaiser#don flamenco#great tiger#bear hugger#piston honda#piston hondo#bald bull#super macho man#mr. sandman#king hippo#im a bit insane#totally not also an invitation to ask me about some hcs or make em up idk#please i need to be crazy#also a lot od these are Little Mac centric#not my fault hes my favourte#maybe he should stop being son shaped
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Falling - CL16 SMAU
in which, you know nothing about f1
pairing : Charles Leclerc x Black!Fem!Reader
faceclaim : Alyah Chantelle Scott
warnings : none that I can think of
real life ----------
"I'm gonna run to the bathroom," you told Flo, putting your napkin on the table to save it. "Don't miss me too much." He rolled his eyes at you, making you smile as you walked away.
While turning to face forward, you walked straight into a chest, sending you falling back on your ass with a humpf, it was embarrassing to say the least.
"Oh, I'm so sorry," said a voice, hopefully attached to the hand that was being waved in front of your face to help you up. You took the hand that was held out to you, wanting to roll your eyes at it, but the roll stopped the second you made eye contact with the face attached to it. He was probably the most handsome man you had ever seen.
"Uh," you froze, unsure of what to say to him. He smiled back at you, which didn't help the buzzing in your head or the heat you felt on your face.
"I really should check my surroundings more." His eyes crinkled in a laugh that you reciprocated, something about him made you want to follow his lead. That thought was enough to shake you out of your cloud.
"No, uh..." you paused, looking back at Flo for a quick second. "It was really my fault, I wasn't looking ahead."
His eyes followed your gaze before returning to you, smile just as wide. "Charles." He then shook your hand which he was still holding, that caused a new wave of heat to rise up your face.
"YN," you answered, shaking his hand back and then letting go. Why did you feel heavier now that you weren't touching?
"What brings you to Monaco?" His accent was intoxicating, you could listen to him talk for hours about nothing.
"My friend plays for the soccer team here, so I'm visiting."
"Ah," he nods, smile still on his beautiful face. "So you're American?"
You nod this time, eyes still following his every micro-expression. Seriously, how could someone be this beautiful?
"Charles! Vai!" a new voice called, taking his attention away from you. Both of you frowned, but life goes on.
"I must go, it was lovely meeting you YN." With one last smile he walks away, leaving you alone.
yn's messages
Charles' messages------------
ynusername posted on her story
yn's messages-----------
balogun posted on his story
Charles' messages-----------
ynusername posted--------
liked by bsfinstagram, balogun and more
ynusername taking the bestie up on more vacays if they're like this
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bsfinstagram uhm, I haven't offered any vacations ↳ balogun ha dethroned ↳ bsfinstagram I will crawl inside you and destroy your acl ↳ balogun 😐
balogun as long as you keep falling on your ass so I can laugh ↳ ynusername rude
yunusmusah you have to visit us next ↳ ynusername bet! need some good gelato
georgerussell63 charles_leclerc here she is ↳ ynusername hello George? ↳ landonorris don't mind us just dropping someone off for you ↳ alex_albon yeah just bringing a friend by ↳ charles_leclerc you didn't have to do any of that ↳ georgerussell63 we wanted to ↳ landonorris have fun kids!! ↳ bsfinstagram hahaha I can't believe this 🤣🤣
charles_leclerc hi ↳ ynusername hi 👋🏾
#f1 x reader#formula 1#formula 1 smau#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x fem!reader#charles leclerc x black!fem!reader#charles leclerc smau#danielle writes
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the kitty surprise [t.rodman x reader]
prompt: trinity sneaks you two's cat to practice without you knowing.
author notes: this is probably trash 💔💔 not too much on me, writing is hurting my brain these days. enjoy it!
"why can't i?" trinity whines as she leans against the counter. the little white furry body of you two's cat, coco, in her hands. the woman was really trying to convince you to let her bring coco to practice today which was out of the question.
"where would she even be while we practice? what if she runs out onto the field and gets hurt? what if she scratches someone?"
"okay, okay. i get it, god," trinity says. stopping you from listing off more reasons on to why coco can't come along. "but you know she gets lonely, babe," your girlfriend pouts at you. moving closer to you as she holds up coco, "just look at this cute face."
the sight of coco and trinity's faces next to each other is an adorable sight, but not adorable enough for you to say yes. you giggle before placing a kiss on trinity's forehead than the cat beside her.
"she will be fine. now put her down and go get your bag so we can go," you move away from them. going off somewhere in the house to find your missing cleats. meanwhile trinity was hatching up a plan that she knew you would hate, but coco would love (she hopes).
the american player grabs some of the white cat's snacks before going over to where her bag was on the couch. "you just have to stay in here for like 20 minutes tops, okay, baby?" trinity baby talks to the cat. putting the bag of cat snacks open in her bag with coco following after. she worries all of the soccer items in the bag might make it uncomfortable for her furry baby, so quickly she grabs one of you two's small blankets that could hardly fit you both and stuff it inside. coco seemed to be just alright with this arrangement. snuggling up to the blanket before dozing off.
just as you come back into the living room, cleats in hand, trinity zips up her bag enough that you wouldn't be able to tell a cat was in there on the first glance.
"alright, let's go, babe," you say. moving towards the front door with trinity right behind you until you stop with your hand on the door knob. "forgot to say bye to coco," you try to move to go over to her cat tree in the dining room, but trinity stops you.
she speaks loudly (so that you can't hear how coco meows at the sound of her name being called) as she says, "uh.. actually she's.. shitting! yeah she's shitting and you know how long she takes." you look at her in confusion but just shrug it off since y'all don't have enough time to worry about that right now.
"whatever. let's go," and off you two went to practice.
now getting coco to practice wasn't that hard. the cat slept the time away in the backseat of the car while trinity and you sang along to your playlist. soon enough y'all came to the training facilities for the washington spirit. "you two are late!" andi shouts, leaving from her own car.
"hypocrite!" you shout back. giggling once andi puts up the middle finger at you. meanwhile trinity was trying to cover up the fact she was having a crisis; how was she supposed to sneak coco in? and where would she go? those two questions bounce around the american player's head as she takes your and hers bag out of the car. sticking her tongue out at you when you try to grab yours. "nope. princesses don't carry their own bags," trinity says.
you roll your eyes, hiding the bashful smile on your lips. you check the time on your phone before shaking your head, "whatever. we are already ten minutes late." trinity happily follows along after you. just grateful that you haven't noticed the little white furball that's trying to stick her head out of trinity's bag.
the moment you two get into the locker room you separate. you go off to change while trinity acts like she's trying to change. instead she was looking in her bag, making sure coco was okay. with you two being late the rest of the team was out of the locker room so trinity didn't have to do any explaining just yet.
"i'm going to let you out, okay? just stay right here and nobody's going to know," the american player whispers to coco. the cat just meows as she looks up at her owner. trinity gives her a few pets before letting her out of the bag. pulling out the blanket as well so it can cover the space in her cubby. "stay, okay?" she gives coco a kiss before pulling away. the white cat just lazily lays there. enjoying the warmth of the blanket combined with being in a space that smells like one of her favorite people. trinity closes the door of her cubby the moment ashley walks in.
"coach says hurry up or we are all running suicides," ashley says. those words got trinity to quickly change and head out of the locker room.
everything was going well and exactly to plan until break. trinity was laying her head on your legs as you two catch your breath. coach still made you two do suicides despite trinity coming out as fast as possible.
"i can't wait to go up against-" before you can even finish your sentence, someone was yelling out from the locker room.
"it's a cat in here!" one of the spirit players shouts. everyone else out on the practice field looks around in confusion, but you already knew who the culprit was. "babe-" you look down at trinity whose face is ridden with panic. she sits up before you can even finish your sentence.
"i swear i can explain!" trinity doesn't even have a chance to as coco runs out of the building onto the field. immediately she clings onto you. the annoyance in you was rising as you realize trinity didn't listen to you, but that wasn't even the focus at the moment with coco in your arms. all of your other teammates came over to you and trinity. good thing coach wasn't anywhere near here.
"well.." andi says as she looks at the white cat in your arms. trinity was waiting for the yelling or something about telling coach, but it was none of that. instead your teammates just cooed at how cute coco is. fighting over who gets to hold her first.
that doesn't mean you aren't annoyed still, but you can't deal with that with everyone crowding around trinity and you, so you leave that for later.
coco was absolutely spoiled at practice. the spirit coach even said she can come back some days; basically as an unofficial emotional support animal for the team. everyone was on board with that. the day went better than you thought it would, but that doesn't mean trinity wasn't about to get it.
"i can't believe you brought her along without asking me," you say. trinity lets out a groan hearing your words. she already knew you would get on her later about her lil cat smuggle, but still. the cat in question is happily sleeping in trin's arms. tired from a full day of playing around.
"she gets lonely, babe. i explained that to you," trinity reasons.
"she's a cat!"
"a cat who gets lonely! like she has separation anxiety i swear"
"she does not!" you roll your eyes at trinity's childishness. this woman is twenty one and still pulls shenanigans like this. she just falls silent as she pouts. the car falls silent as you stop talking as well. when you two reach your apartment you sigh and look over at trinity after parking.
"i'm not mad, so.. whatever just tell me next time," you say. trinity perks up before leaning over slightly for a kiss. you give her what she wants, smiling once you pull away. "but you're cleaning her litter box today since you wanted to sneak her along," you give her a cheeky smile as she groans.
"but babe!"
© thinkingaboutjaedyn
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I keep seeing these Gen z is task force 141 and I wanna join
Anytime you use a computer, you do that stupid movie hacker trope of exaggerated typing and say "I'm in"
Saying "POV" in front of sentences
In the group chat saying "1 like and I'll kms", liking your own message and then saying "damn guess I gotta"
I see a lot of these posts were Gaz and Soap would understand y/n....bffr, no those geezers would not
No one knows what the gen z kid is saying they just know it's probably not good
"You're telling me a shrimp fried this rice?"
You have a small photo you keep tucked in your chest pocket and after enough times seeing you looking lovingly at it, one of the guys asks who it is. Is it a s/o from back home? 😏😏
You say no and pull out a photo card of your fave singer and they're like ??? Really
One time during a particularly physical scuffle with the enemy, you get thrown to the ground and huff out "one hop this time" only to promptly tackle tf outta your assailant while saying "take it back now yall"
Reads everyone's zodiac charts except ghost bc he won't tell his birthday let alone the time he was born so you just make one up
Price calls a 6 am meeting to which you say "double it and give to the next person"
*Alexa, play teenagers by MCR*
If you had time describe the base, you'd say it smells like ball sweat, blood and war crimes which everyone took offense to for different reasons
Would absolutely get soaps doodles tattooed
Actually speaking of which, imagine getting caught giving yourself stick and pokes with a pen and being banned from using pens period
You'd be in a meeting with a #2 pencil
Ofc a gen z member would be absolutely feral which very little regard for their own safety much to the dismay of the others
Quoting "Oh these aren't homemade, they were made in a factory....a bomb factory......they're bombs." All the time around soap even though he has no idea what you're talking about
You don't spent too much alone time with ghost bc he likes quiet and you can't be alone with your thoughts which is why you lean more towards spending time with soap or gaz
I just like puns so I'm gonna add this but gen z love borgs (a customized gallon jug of alcohol that is usually given a name) and yours is appropriately named taskforce 1-borg-1
this is mainly for my americans but i know pretty much the whole world got beef with engl*nd: before you met Soap, you thought the entire 141 was en*lish so when you finally did meet him, you said "oh thank god" with a sigh
americans 🤝 scotts
making fun of english "people"
"Pull up in the monster, automobile gangsta With a bad bitch that came fr-" "....sergeant, comms off please"
you show Ghost WAP and he has to take a walk
*price yelling at gaz and soap*: KYLE GARRICK AND JOHN MACTAVISH GET IN HERE- Y/n: oop not the government name
Another for my US baddies: if your'e ever arguing with any of the guys, the nail in the coffin would be "and it's called soccer"
"one more like and i'll-" "enough!"
you call Price "ms. girl" and he could not be more confused
someone asks "do you serve?" and u reply "yah, serve cunt"
when asked why you decided to join the military you said something like: "well i didnt think i'd live past 18 so when I did, i ended up here".....crickets from the rest of the team
"good thing we only have showers on base because i would have already taken a toaster bath by now"
ask Gaz "no bitches?🤨" one more time see what happens
price: the enemies have taken civvies hostage and blocked off all exits and entrances to the town-" y/n: "omg tea"
Also calling price "capt. Save-a-hoe"....I wanna be saaaavvveddd ;)
If you took a shot every time you said "rest in peace to all the soldiers that died in the service, I dive in her cervix", you'd be dead lmao
When asked if they like the military they'd say "it was either this or the psych ward so yah, I'll take it"
Quoting MPGIS constantly and no one even sort of knows what that is ("Crack. Is that what you smoke? You smoke crack?")
Some detainee being interrogated is spilling some nonsense, so you hit them with "oh brother this guy stinks!" And then with the butt of your gun
"Little bad trini bitch but she mixed with China, real thick vagina, smuggle bricks to-" "SARGENT ENOUGH"
Falling asleep on team mates (minus ghost's) shoulders mostly because the most peace they get is when you're unconscious
*when y/n hears any slightly suggestive/dirty phrase*: what are we talking about 😏 (iykyk)
Same energy as: " born next to a nuclear power plant, has an IQ of 2 and was hit in the head with several Rocks as a child"
Vine quotes out the wazoo, it's just awful for the rest of the team lmao
Replying to everything with "on god?"
soap: "what are you 6?" y/n: "yah 6 inches deep in your mom".....you did not walk away from that unscathed to say the least...worth it tho
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What is the first thing you will do, after you get your freedom? Tell us all something about yourself Ahmed.
First thing going to al quds to pray in Al-Aqsa Mosque .
I'm normal person lazy one I'm not social i love staying at home with my family or going out with them i know alot of people but i have just 2 friends and one of them closer to me we used to see each other every day and walk. I love swimming i live near the beach. I start working online on November 2022 and i trade Forex online since 2020 but i stopped after i start working online. I used to play football or soccer as u American say it. And i had playstation 4 used to play call of duty since 2018 . I wanted to study outside gaza after i finished High school on 2012 but it was impossible because the financial situation. Still dreaming of traveling to Europe or USA because i could find myself and discover what I'm able to do and achieve because here in gaza our life is hard and The available possibilities are few . I hope somebody could help me with that and get me a visa lol. Sometimes i think i don't know myself enough. Sorry i talked alot
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Heart Podium (Joe Burrow x OC x Max Verstappen)
Many times our childhood dreams cannot be realized, due to our overly fertile imagination, many times our professional childhood dreams cannot be realized either, either due to the delay in getting a place at the university we dreamed of or the lack of opportunities when it comes to working in the arts or sports.
There's always plan b.
Kayleigh was one of those kids, it's true that dreaming of being a Backyardigan was difficult, but she was left with plan b, a plan that was broadcast every Sunday before the NFL, her father would have lunch, afternoon snack and dinner on the same channel, watching the drivers and then the Cleveland Browns, his favorite team in the state.
That was the most exciting thing Kayleigh had in her childhood, watching Formula One followed by a good Browns game, arriving at school and eagerly wanting to talk to someone, but the girls didn't like the subject and asked to talk about something else and the boys laughed at her.
Leaving her and her mom's cookies in the stands.
Until one day she plucked up the courage and asked her father to play go-kart, finding a track in the state of Ohio in 2004, it wasn't the easiest task in the world, but he managed it and little by little, it went from being a joke to a serious thing.
Until high school came and she discovered that there were two ways to get into college: she had to be very smart or know how to play some sport, in 2011 in the United States, go-kart doesn't really mean a sport, far from it.
Not knowing what to do, she decided to confront her parents in her first year.
Not wanting to do anything, since it wouldn't help her with her possible future career was a very risky step.
For her parents, it's not even worth mentioning, they wanted to freak out, exchanging the stability of a degree for a go-kart race, for them it's crazy, especially when they've always prepared themselves financially for it, when they always prepared for her to enter university, which is not the cheapest thing,and it was in these uncertainties and in the midst of this conflict of whether or not to go to college that she tried to get interested in more conventional sports.
But when she tried out, she was terrible at soccer, average at lacrosse, slow at basketball, tough at gymnastics, shy at cheerleading, short at volleyball, afraid of water when swimming and she's a girl, she couldn't play American football.
It was during one of these that she found herself making a fuss.
-You're going to regret it, you know, you're losing the best wide receiver the world has ever seen - She yelled.
One of the guys looked at her in fright, while others wondered who she was.
-You know you were running for the cornerback spot, right? A blond guy tells her.
-Yeah, I know, that's exactly why - She sighs tiredly.
-Because you came to try for the spot right here, you know they don't choose girls easily.
-I’ve tried everywhere, I came here just to cause trouble, I had nothing to do” She confesses, leaving him confused.
-Really?
-Yes-They end up laughing.
-You don’t like a specific sport, maybe if you try there you’ll do better, maybe explain to the coach that you like it and want to learn and she’ll let you stay-He suggests.
-I like watching, but not putting it into practice, I’m doing this more so my parents can see that I’m not good, I already know I’m not good-She sighs.
-I’m sorry-He gives her a half smile, until she feels a crack.
-Geez, I haven’t tried baseball yet-she remembers and gets up, leaving the equipment there.
-They don’t accept girls either-He reminds her.
-That’s exactly why-Kayleigh laughs.
-By the way, what's your name?-She stops, holding the door.
-I'm Joseph-he says shyly.
-I'm Kayleigh, see you soon, Joseph.
And yes, she tried baseball, but the first time she held the bat, it ended up between the legs of the boy next to her, who fell to the ground groaning in pain.
Kayleigh was thrown out.
Fate was cruel to her when it came to sports, but it only reinforced the idea that she had to continue in karting.
After meeting Joseph, she would see him someday, as she thought, but she would see him every day, until the prom, when after two years together, she finally realized that they would have to separate by force,and how that hurt, not only for her but for him too.
-I can’t believe you’re going to Europe, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I’m going to tell Ohio State to go fuck itself, I’ll go with you wherever you have to go, but I don’t want to be away from you.-His cheeks already reddened from the cold, he said.
-Stop saying that, you’ve been given an incredible opportunity, you have to take advantage of it.-She tried to convince him.
-But I can’t imagine being away from you.-Hearing that, she lay down on his lap.
-We’ll get through this, you’ll see, and we’ll be strong.
The first year away was the hardest, not only for Joseph, but for her parents too, because seeing their daughter try to make a living racing karts, traveling all over Europe, was something that made them so proud, but at the same time so apprehensive.The second year seemed to be easier. They were already well accustomed to the routine of video calls, social media, messages, letters. They sent polaroids to hang up. Once, Joseph even caught himself putting his perfume on the paper to make sure she could smell him. They exchanged gifts, everything.
Until the careers arrived on television, Joseph could sit down and look for the channel to watch her and she could pick up the phone and watch the college divisionals.The fifth year passed, the sixth too, and then the seventh, when Joe finally took off in his career in American football, being drafted by the Cincinnati Bengals.
And the following year, Kayleigh did what she never imagined she would be able to do: she reached Formula One, after almost dying waiting for this event. Of course the party was huge, she returned to her country with all possible honor, suddenly a little girl from Ohio was going to compete for a title for a team and everyone wanted to know what this little girl does and better, where are the American boys who are not having the same prominence?But she could never say that it had any real effect on the American public. Formula One is still a playboy thing for them, to the point where they even consider golf a more accessible sport.
Just as she was there for Joe's big debut, he was there for his big debut, of course,but their contracts ended up preventing more contact. They had to train, they had to focus, they couldn't travel long distances or do physical work before their work, and they also couldn't be too far away from their work.
It allowed them to spend a few moments together. She would catch his last games if he made the playoffs and he would catch her first races,so much time apart didn't make their love diminish. On the contrary, seeing each other's achievements seemed to only strengthen their love for each other.And even without knowing, there was someone who was not at all happy with this growing love.
-Joe said he'll call me soon.-She jumps around the room excitedly, waiting for someone to call her to give her the prize.
-Hmm- Max makes an annoyed face, leaving his helmet on the stand.
-That's cute, it's the middle of the night in the United States, isn't it?-Carlos asks her, all smiles.
-Yes, it's the middle of the night and he stayed up.-She doesn't hide her smile.
-Really the last of the romantics.-Max rolls his eyes.
-Stop being annoying, she's so happy.-Carlos watches her like a doting father.
Max glares at him, enough for the Spaniard to avoid him and stay quiet.
And of course, the next day, as always happens after every race, Joe sends her a huge bouquet, with a dedication and, when he is present, romantic letters.For most people around him, it is just his European or rather, Dutch humor.
But for those who actually live with him and see the mistakes he makes and notices, the way he treats her when she talks about other things and when she talks about Joe, they understand very well.
Max messed up her hair, trying to free her mind from those thoughts, from that feeling, but realized it was difficult.After another podium with her, another trip to a random bar with everyone involved, the country's biggest celebrities and everything else, he could no longer stand two things.
The first, Charles flirting even with the walls of the place.
The second, the fact that she trusted George more than him, to tell him the reason for her 37th breakup with Joe.
-I honestly don't understand you guys, one moment you say that distance is good, the next you break up because of distance, make up your mind damn it-George, tired of the situation, slammed his hand on the table.He fixed his hair, looked around and composed himself.
-Sorry man, I got carried away-He spoke like most people do sometimes, treating her like a man.
-I know it's not the most normal thing to do, but it tires me out-She said finally, she didn't want to waste her friend's night with this, much less make him occupy his mind with his problems.
She went to the bar to order another drink, without realizing who was next to her.
-Did you bump into something?-She heard someone ask and then looked to the side to see Max.
-What do you mean?-She immediately became confused.
-Your leg is kind of purple,-he says.
-Oh, let's just say I might have fallen on my suitcase- She rolls her eyes.
-It's the third time this season.-He holds back his laughter.
-She goes everywhere and sometimes it happens.-She shrugs.
-Your suitcase can make you more purple than your boyfriend, I think it's time to trade him for her.-Max takes a sip of his drink, savoring every note of it, satisfied with yet another mean comment about Joe. He knows how distance affects him and that's nothing more than a psychological game, sending indirect messages that hurt.
As always, she remained silent, discreetly observing her leg and trying to cover the bruise, with her face reddened.
-I can't blame him, he's going after his dream." She answers for the first time, even if a while later and too quietly, as if she wasn't even there anymore.
Until the girl asks herself, why is Max worried about this?
For a second, Max almost misses the destination of the glass, looking at her.
-Really, there are men whose only dream is to chase a ball, not to have trophies and a woman who loves him.-He takes the opportunity to retort.
-Thanks for ruining the rest of my night, Max, you're always so sensitive.-She answers, choked, finishes her drink and walks towards the exit with long strides.
Max remains there at the bar, staring at the various bottles, some full, others half full, thinking that once again she leaves angry with him, because he doesn't defend her dear Joe.
-You don't have to be so rude all the time, I know you're used to guys around here, but you have to realize that there are girls around here now and they deserve to be treated with kindness and affection, did you know that women are people too?Lewis appears at her side, irritated by the situation.
-Have you stopped talking, Lewis Senna Hamilton?He scoffed.
Max was already drunk enough to almost drag himself back to the hotel.
And even after spending the next few hours thinking about whether or not to knock on her door, as he always does when he’s drunk, he decided it wasn’t the right time.
When he woke up with the sun and that strange feeling, since that’s usually when he goes to sleep, thanks to the jet lag, he allowed himself the luxury of staying a few more minutes in that comfortable bed, under all those sheets, grabbing the fluffiest of his pillows to hug, trying to get it into his head that he was hugging her, trying to get it into his mind that he woke up next to her that morning, it seems he was so used to doing this every morning that with each passing day, the images became clearer in his mind and the sensations stronger.
And for the next race he had a surprise, he jumped out and took off his helmet and head protector, looking in disbelief at the smiling couple on the sidelines watching the track.
-Joe, should I congratulate you or say my condolences? Max gives his best sarcastic smile.
-I don't understand- Joe's radiant smile fades.
-What do you expect from a player? Max grumbles, he had meters around to pass and reach his destination, a screen to review his training, but he made sure to pass between the two, bumping into Joe.
He placed his helmet on the table next to him, silently completing the malicious thought, about his possible dubious qi, when he saw Joe approaching through the shadow on the ground, his smile only grew wider.
Kayleigh decided to leave, aware that they would have some kind of argument.
-I don't understand your stubbornness, Max- Joe confessed, watching Max from a few inches away.
-I say it over and over again, what can you expect from a player? Max rolls his eyes.
-And what are you, don’t you play in this?Joe retorts.
-I’m a pilot, it’s different-he says, convinced.
On the side of the track, tired and just waiting for time to pass, the topic, as always, was just one.
-Max is PMSing- Lando comments while sitting on the floor.
-We should take up a collection and pay a gynecologist, so she can prescribe some medicine, I don’t know- Hulkenberg adds.
-I think what he needs is a psychiatrist, one minute he’s calm, the next he wants to kill you, he’s crazy- Lewis concludes.
-He just needs some time to calm down, recharge his batteries and rest- George defends him.
But he ends up getting angry looks from everyone.
-For this and other reasons, I stay away from that snake pit they call Red Bull, God forbid I have to deal with that creature - Charles says, looking disdainfully at their reserved space.
-No offense, Kay- He makes his observation.
-No offense, I can't stand it anymore- She confesses.
-Not even Kayleigh throws this tantrum when she's on her period, honestly we don't even know when that happens, thanks for sparing us- Lando thanks her, making her laugh.
-I think there are certain details that aren't necessary- She comments.
Max walks past the group with firm steps.
-No one moves their ass in this place, then they complain about the podium- He sends the indirect message with his angry eyes.
Everyone there exchanges glances.
-Hold the Japanese- Ricciardo warns.
-Why? Charles finds the request strange.
-I’m warning you, hold the Japanese guy-he repeats.
And indeed, poor Tsunoda is at breaking point with Max.
Joe left, but Max’s sourness didn’t.
During breakfast at the hotel, Pierre’s strawberries were more sour than expected.
-Her boyfriend leaves and doesn’t get a bruise on his neck, he’s a real wimp- Max grumbles, savoring his waffles.
George’s eyes widen, he wipes his mouth with the napkin next to him.
-Max, how rude. He glances at Max out of the corner of his eye.
But Pierre has the most priceless face, he looks like he’s eaten something spoiled.
-Jesus, you weirdo, who says that, keeps an eye on others, has he become a tax inspector now? He left his comment.
-Watch out guys, there are people watching our necks- Lando dramatically covers his with his sweatshirt.
-I think you should start thinking about where and when you say certain things, Max- Carlos warns him, earning his laugh.
-Why? Do you know anything?” The Dutchman stared at him.
-Common sense Max, just common sense- he retorted.
-That was ridiculously sexist, Max, if that’s what you say, imagine what you think- Lewis gives him his best disapproving look.
-Have you finished your testimony Lewis?Max provokes him.
Max’s life became increasingly complicated there, with the boys and his provocations, little by little choosing to be alone, but not as much as Kayleigh's, who, in addition to having to put up with his mood swings, also has to put up with Joe's suspicions.
His jealousy used to have no name, but now it has a first and last name. Kayleigh only sees one reason for it, the fact that they work together, nothing else could make sense, andexplaining it doesn't seem to help, Joe found himself wondering why they exchanged smiling handshakes live, if she hates him so much.
-Do you really think that after the race, I'll remember how much I hate him? Of course not, Joe. I just think that I won or that I need to improve, hug everyone involved and leave. - She explains, pacing back and forth across the room.
-I don't want to be the annoying guy, but he doesn't look like he hates you, he seems to take advantage of your innocence. - Joe says almost desperately.
-What innocence, Joe? - She asks him.
-Kay, I don't want to fight over this guy. I'm just saying that this isn't something that makes me comfortable. You're walking around half the world with them in a place full of men working, next to several men, and that bothers me. Not only because of jealousy, I don't know, maybe they'll try to do something to you. -
-Jesus, Joe, don't say something like that. I understand your side, okay. I'm not saying you're wrong, but you need to trust me. I won't betray your trust. I haven't done that in all these years. Why would I do it now? - She tries to calm him down.
-Sorry for stressing you out. - He sighs heavily.
And it's been like this for a while.
Even when they're not at work, free to visit somewhere, Max seems to show up in the same place as her or simply in a place nearby, which makes Joe even more suspicious.
But Max couldn't stop there. When he saw her calmly standing there taking some notes, Max approached her with the excuse of seeing what she was writing down and it was then that he took the opportunity to bring his face too close to hers, which left her somewhat speechless. He placed his hand on her hip, giving her a discreet caress.
-Studying for the race, kitten?- He smiled at her reaction, a mix of confusion and embarrassment.
-Sorry Kay, I forget that you're sensitive to male touches. He laughed, leaving her blushing and finally going where he wanted.
She closed her eyes, not liking it at all. His provocations were getting more and more personal with Joe.
Whenever Max managed to get the slightest hint, he would walk away smiling.
But this time, George decided to confront him.
-You should be ashamed of touching women who are in a committed relationship inappropriately- he says, somewhat indignantly.
-Have you had your tea yet, dear English nobleman?" George rolls his eyes.
-Max, I'm serious, that's not cool, it could cause unnecessary confusion- he insists.
-You look so cute saying 'unnecessary'.Max laughs at the guy, who decides to get more serious.
-When Joe gets pissed off and comes to punch you in the face, don't tell me I never warned you.
-Before he punches me in the face, he'll punch you in the face, because you're the little friend who's always around, hugging and advising when they break up. Do you really think he's going to come after me, George?
-I'm in a committed relationship, I've never done this with bad intentions. He doesn't like the accusation.
-Wow, now I'm confused, is this a swing or a threesome? Max laughs to himself.
George stopped walking at the same moment, offended and even more shocked by another accusation.
When he realized it, Max took a few steps back and ruffled his hair.
-Just kidding, George, you're so cute.
But even his happiest days get bad when he sees the two of them together on social media, kisses, dates, more kisses. Max is sure that if Joe knew how jealous he is of him, for being able to love the woman he loves, he would definitely dig a hole to the center of the earth and stay there, far from Max's eyes.
He has thought countless times about using Joe's number saved on his phone, to send some manipulated photo or one that would have a double meaning, but knowing the two of them, he believes that even that would be reason to break up and get back together after a few days.
But it's these photos, the flowers, the letters, her giggles in the corners of the hotel, that make him freak out when he shouldn't. After being next to her in one of the endless meetings and noticing his new gift, a ring on her finger, that was enough for Max to find any reason to start stomping his feet and shouting. And sometimes he even measures her before the race, in the best possible way, as if he were casting a curse on her. -Damn, did you two fight? The boy asks her. -Honestly, I don't know, he left the meeting shouting, now he just looks at me like that. She sighs tiredly. At one of the parties, thanks to Charlie, he can talk to her a little. -You know, girls, sometimes we reach 200 kilometers per hour.He boasts, the trio of friends start drooling in French. -You could say that I am speed. He gives her his most seductive smile.
Max denied it and snorted.
-If I say something like that, I'll get a restraining order.- He takes a good sip of his drink.
-Also, with a sensitive mood like that, you can be sure that many would be afraid. She teased.
-So I don't have a chance? He used his playful tone.
-You're quite cheeky, you know. She lightly took his hand as a quick friendly caress, more for his level of need, that wasn't just a caress.
Max took her hand, lifting it and bringing it to his lips, finally leaving a caress there.
She was embarrassed, but she couldn't see any harm in anything Max did; for her, that was just an apology for the previous treatment.
But from that day on, it could be said that Max started to look at her more, in increasingly shameless ways.
Once again, with a podium in his hands, he waited for her, making sure to catch her eyes, just so she could see him measuring her completely, and she could see that it really affected her.
Or another time, when she was already embarrassed by him staring at her, while she watched the screen with the replay of some moments of the race, he caressed her face, giving her a wink.
She certainly doesn't know what to do with that.
Joe can't dream of that, while Max seems to love it.
But what she didn't expect was for someone to tell Joe about the flirting and say that she is increasingly cornered by the situation.
Unfortunately for Joe, in the middle of his season and fortunately for Max, in the middle of Joe's season.
One day after getting out of the car, Max was waiting for her, not giving her much space to walk away, the girl took off her helmet without knowing what that was, does he want to solve something? Are they going to slap each other or something like that? She wondered.
-How are you, Max? She looked at him.
-You were amazing, you know that? He spoke softly, raising his hands again to her hips and patting them a few times.
-Thanks, I have to go - she said, without giving Max any space. He wanted to know how she was when her only option was to be ridiculously close to him.
The group was confused, to say the least, they didn't know what the hell was going on and what the atmosphere was like.
As Max walked away with firm steps, when he saw that she was far away, he decided to try to get along with the Red Bull team.
-Sometimes I forget that she's not a guy - he laughed for no reason, but he's not like the other boys, who really do forget that she's the woman there. Max remembers who she is every second.
But Joe's situation is nothing that a phone call can't solve.
-Joe, I don't understand who told you that? He asked.
-Someone I trust- Joe justifies himself.
-Joe, I'm going to be honest, if I had the chance to sleep with her, you can be sure I would have done it already, as many times as I could and you can be sure that every time I lie down in my bed, I wonder why it hasn't happened yet and guess what, it's your fault- Max decides to be honest just to hear what Joe has to say.
-You're really brave to say something like that, you know? You know what, I'm going to kill you- Joe gets upset enough for Max to have some difficulty understanding what he's saying, the Dutchman gave his best laugh.
-You know, just a simple touch on her hip makes her all embarrassed, it makes me wonder how long it's been since she's been with a real man, but apparently I don't think that's ever happened, especially since she's only been with you- He continued his provocations.
-Joe, it's really cool that you're the cute guy who gives flowers after every race, gives gifts, writes letters, but if I were you I'd start to worry, because there are a lot of people watching her and I'm one of those people- Joe snorted from the other side.
-Because you can be sure that if I were her boyfriend, her legs wouldn't need a stupid touch to go weak, a simple look would be enough to make her remember a lot of things, things like that my friend, let's be honest, we're among friends here, you don't- Max stabbed the last time, hearing a sound of something breaking and he was sure it wasn't a glass but the phone.
Kayleigh almost didn't find out anything, they both avoided the subject just waiting for the other to tell.
But as the races went by, the atmosphere between Max and her seemed increasingly confused.
With the end of another race, Max lifted her up in a hug that at the moment, out of joy, she didn't stop to think about everything that was happening, but Joe did.
-The thing is, if it were me, it wouldn't be just fucking work- Joe shouted loud enough for her to have to pull the phone away from her ear.
-It was just a hug Joe, we've been together for I don't know three, four years, we work side by side, I understand your jealousy, don't think I don't understand, I do understand and in your place I would be like that too, I'll talk to him okay, I promise I'll talk to him and we'll work this out- She tries to calm him down having this idea.
-Kayleigh Hawkins I trust you, please don't make me lose that trust in you, I love you regardless of whether we can't spend a month together without breaking up, I don't know what I would do without you- He asks sighing heavily on the other side.
-I never did anything to make you doubt me, you know that Joe, if I didn't like you, I wouldn't be with you until today, swallowing all these breakups, just promise me that you'll calm down, okay? I love you - She says finally.
She went to sleep and tried to calm her mind, she needed to be calm and talk to Max the right way, she knows how he is, even if she's a little uncomfortable with all this extra contact they're having, there's no reason to do this to Joe, to let him suffer with a situation that's already driving him crazy, he's far away and the only thing she can do is trust that they're telling him the truth.
She got ready, took pictures with everyone who asked and went into the nightclub, this time looking for Max, the first thing she thought would be that he'd be at the bar, as he always does, but nothing.
She spotted George and it doesn't hurt to try.
She nudged him lightly so that he would lean in without leaving the circle of conversation.
-Have you seen Max? She asks him.
-Thank God I haven't seen Satan today. I heard he came to Earth in the body of this Max guy, but honestly I think Max is the one possessing the devil. George turns back to the group of friends. Okay, that's not the information she wanted to hear today.
She asked Lando the question, indiscreetly interrupting him and a girl she doesn't know, earning a free kick.
-Man, I haven't seen him - Pierre says, already out of habit in the male environment.
She sighs, imagining two hypotheses: either he's hiding out with some girls or he's gone back to the hotel.
She quickly makes sure to send a message to Joe, saying that he's definitely with some woman and that she's going to wait a little longer to look for him again. She rolls her eyes at having to do that, still feeling like she's going to be really embarrassed.
She picked up her drink and decided to walk around again until she saw him walking outside with his glass and sitting alone at a table.
She hurried, she needed to be quick, she didn't want anyone to arrive in the middle of the process.
When she walked through the door, it was clear that he found it strange that she went there, he gave her a small smile that was returned.
-Can I sit here? She politely asked for one of the empty seats.
He put his hands under the armrest of his chair with a big smile.
-You can sit wherever you want.
-Okay - she mumbled tensely.
-What do you need? He asked her, making her a little embarrassed.
If he was having a bad day, it could get even worse, so she decided to be as cautious as possible.
-Joe talked to me yesterday, he was a little upset about our hug, he got jealous of you and you know, I don't want that to get in the way of anything, not you, me or him, so if you could reduce the physical contact it would be a big help. She smiles nervously.
Joe said he's jealous? he asks with the same apathetic expression.
It was then that his laughter startled her.
-Yeah, I know, it's irrational. She quickly agrees, starting to lose her voice and blush with embarrassment, she didn't need to be making such a fool of herself, she thought.
Max froze when he heard that and with his best ironic tone, asked her to continue.
-We've known each other for years, we work together on the same team, it's crazy to say this, I'm really sorry for this boring conversation, but I promised him I'd talk to you, you know- she's already preparing for the next kick, he'd probably say it's a favor not to have to hug her and that would be the kindest thing she could imagine that could come out of his mouth.
-First of all, I'm an educated man, so I wouldn't be talking nonsense, smiling, complimenting, or any of that crap to someone I'm not interested in. We both know you're smart, you don't need to force it so much. She's in a mix of understanding and not understanding.
He looks at her and realizes he's only confused her even more.
-Tell your boyfriend, if he's jealous, he'll have to have the balls to come here to solve it - Max says, enjoying the situation.
-This will create an unnecessary situation, you know, you don't need all this for a misunderstanding- she explains again.
-Let me explain something to you, since you didn't have the tact to notice, from the damn moment I met you, well before I knew that this idiot was your boyfriend, I was already in love with you and something stopped me from talking to you, my girlfriend. Now I'm single and nothing stops me from talking to you. Are you going to say you never noticed? Her feet fell, as she tried to reason, she felt a cold hand go up her thigh. She froze there, not knowing what to do, looking at Max who had the most peaceful expression in the world.
She looked down, seeing the hem of her loose black dress rising higher and higher, exposing the area. She couldn't understand how Max, who distributes rudeness, now had a hand on her thigh. She delicately brought her hand to meet his, making eye contact with him again, but when she thought she would stop her hand, she only made him squeeze the spot and get even closer to where he shouldn't.
-Max I think you- She prepares to get up, but he is faster.
-Sit down, we're not done talking - he uses his most gentle tone, but even so it's hard to say anything.
-That idiot Joe has even threatened to kill me, you know, because he knows that I like you and I made one thing clear to him and now it's going to be clear to you, the only thing I need is for you to say yes, you know where my room is, it's always next to yours, it's not hard to find, when you get tired of this idiot you can knock on my door. - He walks away.
-That's not how it works, it's not about getting tired of my boyfriend -She is cut off.
-I don't know how and what you like about him, so yes, it's a matter of getting tired of him
Even with the shock, she stayed quiet and didn't say anything to anyone, she thought that would make things easier, but everything got worse with Max.
Now besides being a sweetheart, he's simply everywhere.
This includes grabbing her hand when she is focused on the training screens, indiscreetly measuring her and, what has caught the team's attention the most, the number of times he touches her hair.
On another day, finishing some notes about the current track, she doesn't know when he appeared, but he started massaging her shoulders, slowly moving up to her neck. The first thing she did was cough to discreetly send him away, which didn't help.
-You need to relax, Kay, you're too tense - he says quietly.
One of the guys on the team walked by them.
-I'm enjoying seeing you helping each other, Red Bull spirit - the guy leaves smiling.
-Max, that's enough, you're going too far -she says through clenched teeth.
-That's my specialty. He laughed, one of his arms serving as support so he could slide his hand down her spine as far as he could reach, slowly moving up, noticing her held breath.
-You need to relax, why don't you take a deep breath and let my hands help you?He suggested.
-I need you to stop with the double-meaning jokes - She asked.
He didn't answer, he just brought his fingers to the back of her neck, massaging the tips of them and moving down a little, he got as close as the backless bench would allow, pressing her head against his torso, and finally sliding his fingers from her jaw until they almost reached her lap.
-And what kind of massage is this? Can you explain it to me? She asked reluctantly.
-A casual massage, like any other, I think that massage is more about touching someone's skin until you see relaxation appear, and that angle of you is wonderful - He teased, aware that with the force used there it would be difficult for her to move.
-Max, I didn't know you could give a massage - Lando shouts from outside.
-That's great for those who wear a helmet.
-I'll have one - Lando says, and Charles agrees next to him.
-Me too.
-Sure, boys. I'll be right there when I'm done. He smiles at the two of them, who continue on their way.
-Why aren't you writing it down? Did you forget what you wanted? He gives his most fake tone of concern.
But by giving her the massage right there, he makes it difficult for her to say anything.
He then gently lowers his fingers and finishes, bending down a little so that he's at the height of her neck.
-Stop pretending you didn't like it. Considering that you're dating Joe and how much your skin is crawling, I think you should go to the bathroom and get yourself together - he pats her shoulder.
-It's great to see how satisfying these hands are, not just on the steering wheel. He laughs, walking away and giving her another wink. Kayleigh closed the notebook, wanting to bury her face in the ground. This can't be happening. Max can't be serious. But he is very serious and to make the test complete, he decided to tease her with a little more than words. The situation has already escalated to a point where she doesn't know if she can keep denying it and, worse, what to say to Joe when he calls at the end of the day and she has the same scared expression. Suddenly, the guy who was a jerk to everyone has become an angel with her and, on top of that, says he's in love with her, to the point of making a scene. The point is, she doesn't know how far he's going with the description, but Max knows well.
Tsunoda, who is next to the two, was a bit embarrassed by his face towards her and hers towards the floor. He doesn't know if coughing would help to start a conversation or if anything else, the atmosphere around them became unpleasant and even tense.
She was grateful when she saw Carlo approaching, smiling as always, and greeted everyone, but before they could say anything.
-We would make a beautiful couple, wouldn't we? He points at her, who freezes in disbelief.
-Isn't she with Joe? Carlos asks.
-I didn't ask about him, I'm talking about us. Tsunoda and Sainz stare at each other, not knowing what to say, along with her, who has wide eyes.
-Of course, they would be great, she's very pretty and you - Carlos is cut off.
-Really, she's beautiful. Max gives his best smile to Kay, who pretends not to have heard anything.
-I heard Lando calling me, bye guys. He left in a hurry without looking back. It didn't matter that they must have been there for an event or something, he would arrive at the last minute and that was it.
But her destination ended up being the same as his.
Max took advantage of the hotel corridor being empty, to reach her and hug her body from behind, holding her. Kay moved, trying to get out of the tight spot, and then Max decided to play it low, going up to her neck and nibbling it.
-Can't you see that it's crowded here, can't you see that this is going to hurt me? She asked him irritably, trying to stop him from continuing to caress her.
-You said that I always mistreated you, I'm just treating you the way I should, making my interests obvious to everyone. He replied.
And then only two breaths were heard in the hallway, Max continued the attack on her neck, sliding his hand until he reached the hem of the woman's pants where she quickly grabbed him.
-Are you going to run away again? You know that the more you run the better it is for me, because then I'll feel like I've won you over. He then released her, turning her to face him.
When he realized, he was against a wall in one of the many empty hallways, Max brought his hand to her face, squeezing her cheeks.
-Do you know how much it hurt me to spend four years of my life, seeing you with that clown, while you were always by my side? Do you know what it's like to see him deliver flowers, letters and then suddenly it all ends, you feel hope, then you come back and all this repeats itself over and over again, meanwhile, I'm the guy who's always here, do you know how horrible that is? He asked her somewhat irritated, not with her anymore, but with the situation.
-Not even when you were hospitalized after a crash, he showed up, like a good teammate I went there, do you understand now how much I need you to dump him and let me make you truly happy? he asked, letting his hand slip.
He steps away slightly, Kay runs her hands through her hair, messing it up, looking to one side nothing but an empty hallway, looking to the other the same and Max in front of her waiting for the answer.
-You guys break up all the damn time, break up with him, spend some time with me and then if you regret it, which I highly doubt, you go back to him. Max waits for her decision, staring at her.
-I can't... he quickly cuts her off.
-You can't throw away your childhood love, a beautiful childhood love that you see for three months and then only next year."
She swallows that.
-I may not be the nicest guy, nor as loved by everyone as he is, but I will be here and I know very well how much you want someone who is here. He gently takes her hand.
-You want someone who will hold your hand, praise you, watch you run, can do something stupid together, someone who understands you, someone who is not so fickle, someone who is here to wake up next to you, who will hug you at night, who can touch you and he can't do any of that but I can and I want to. The distance between the two became short again until the wall appeared.
Kayleigh took a deep breath and nodded slightly, she was afraid that she was under the effect of his power of persuasion and even more so of those eyes, but she couldn't deny it. She did miss Joe's presence, she loved him, not having him around was always the biggest obstacle.
And this obstacle would only have one solution, one of the two of them giving up their careers.
The fact is that once again they have been separated for a week, but as always she cries on the day and then pretends that nothing happened and they are together.
-We broke up last week - she begins, still thoughtful. -We can try, but I don't want anyone to know, because if nothing works out, I don't want it to become a mess, or for anyone to talk about it - she asks. -They'll start seeing me smile, it'll be kind of obvious - he approaches. -Are you sure?" He asks cautiously first. -Yes - he agrees. Max presses the elevator button, leaves a hand caressing her ear, preparing to finally kiss her for the first time. Max never hides his desire, much less his rush, but even so, he takes Kayleigh by surprise when he lets his hands roam guiltlessly over her body in that hallway.
He finally felt the weight, anger and hurt of all those years being thrown aside, being extracted from her body, he wouldn't say she wanted to wait so long, but being able to drive Joe crazy, just like he had been all this time was wonderful, now he finally has what he wants, her.
#joe burrow#cincinnati bengals#joe burrow x reader#joe burrow imagine#joeburrow#joe burrow fluff#joe burrow fanfic#burrow#joe shiesty#joey b#joseph lee burrow#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen#formula 1 x reader#formula 1#formula one#red bull racing#red bull formula 1#f1 x you#f1 x reader#verstappen#mv1#mv1 x reader#mv1 imagine#mv1 33#verstappen x reader#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen angst#bengals
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The Accidental Baby Trap Incident
Summary: About four years after the events of First Class, Erik arrives at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters with two little twins who he didn't know existed. Thinking he doesn't know what to do, he runs to Charles, not knowing the state his old friend is in.
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erik's chest is heaving as he arrives at the door step almost stumbling to the already in need of a clean mansion. he frowns. charles had been so fastidious about keeping the place clean once they arrived. perhaps he wasn't home.
one of the children, the whitish-silver haired one- oh, yes, pietro that was it, tugs on his sleeve, "is this an orphanage?" the names of these children still didn't seem real to him. everything felt like a nightmare.
"it's a school," he corrects, "an old friend of mind runs it."
"is it a boarding school?" the girl (wanda, he reminds himself, wanda. his daughter. not just a girl. not just any child.) asks.
"of a sort," he replies and knocks again, louder this time, tempted to just throw open the door.
pietro stamps his foot, "you're gonna leave us here aren't you?" before erik can respond, his young son slams his heel on erik's toes, "fucker!"
erik hisses, "pietro-"
"peter. i don't like pietro. it's a stupid name!"
pietro had been the name he picked out when magda had once teased the idea of having children. it had been his grandfather's name. wanda was the once she had chosen, a name she had always been fond of since she was a girl. now those children were real and one was yelling at him.
erik begins to raise his voice again when the door cracks open. from the crack, he sees hank's eyes and nose peak out. a second later, he's opened the door a bit more, keeping his body between the inside and erik.
"what are you doing here?" he snaps, "who are they?"
"why aren't you blue?" erik asks, genuinely, "how did you reverse-?"
"i'm asking the questions," hank growls and erik watches a ripple of blue skin and yellow eyes appear. ah. not so reversed then.
"i need to see charles," erik explains, "to talk about them."
"there's no school. charles closed it. he can't help them," hank replies, "go somewhere else."
"hank, they're my children."
hank blinks in surprise and looks at the two of them, pietro trying desperately to tug away from his father's hold on his wrist while wanda stands next to him with her chin high. he sighs, "what do you expect charles to do?"
"i- i don't know," he admits, hating the glare pietro gave him at the words, "their mother is gone. i don't know how to raise children. i didn't know where else to go."
hanks shakes his head, "charles won't be of any help."
At that exact moment, pietro decides to vibrate his hand so fast, he burns erik's palm causing him to hiss and let go. normally, he's prepared for this trick. it's one of his son's favorites . being caught up in the conversation with hank took just enough attention away from erik to not prepare himself for the burn.
his son is about to bolt when wanda placidly says, "i've got him."
with a single lift of her hand, pietro freezes and falls face first in the grass, wriggling there like an earthworm. wanda was in an agreeable mood then. that was good. hank stared at them with a slightly stunned expression. erik gave him a withering look.
finally, he steps aside, "you're not gonna like what you see." a pit of dread grows in erik's stomach as he picks up pietro like an american football to carry him inside.
american football... he remembers better days. he remembers sean and alex always teasing him for calling it that. for calling "soccer" any number of colorful variants of football: football, piłka nożna, fussball. it was almost a game in it of itself. this place had far too many tainted memories.
"is he in his study?" he asks.
"he's barely gone in there in over a year. he's probably in his bedroom."
"is he asleep? it's two in the afternoon." charles only slept in when he was hungover. and it was tuesday.
"i don't know," hank shrugs, activating no small amount of annoyance.
"well if he isn't alseep, then he would know i'm here by now. he probably needs help," erik tries not to wince, memories of the beach still fresh as he recalls pulling the bullet out of charles' spine, "go fetch him."
hank gives him a tired glance that's partially pity and partially screaming, i'm not a butler.
"hank?" he hears the call from upstairs, "is someone here?"
hank winces as erik immediately bounds up the stairs with only a terse 'wait' to his children. both promptly ignore him, the boy zipping to catch up and the girl bounding along as best she could. he sighs, rushing after them. maybe he can bribe them with cookies he bought. they're just from the grocery store bakery, but kids hardly cared about such things.
erik flings open charles' door, feeling like a man possessed. charles was so close. he could fix this— or at least help erik. this man adored children far more than he ever could. not to mention, his old friend lived a much safer life. he could only go so long ignoring contacts from azazel, emma, and mystique before they came to investigate his sudden no-contact. charles always had answers. charles had started a school. charles—
looks like a mess.
the charles of erik's mind, when not the nightmare of a man in pain on a beach, was polished and coiffed to perfection. his fluffy hair was always styled, always dressed to the casual nines (or just the nines), oceanic blue eyes brightened by his clothes, two perfect ruddy lips that dipped into a heart shape at the top.
this was not the charles of his mind. before him stands a haggard man, eyes dull, lips pale, wearing nothing more than dirty sweats and a dirtier robe. he smells, reeks even. days old sweat, vomit, and the distinct, overbearing scent of alcohol wafts off charles. his hair hangs long in greasy strands. those pale lips quiver.
"charles?"
and then he is being punched. faster than he can comprehend, a fist connects with his cheek, sending him careening back into the wall until he hit it. unable to get his balance, he falls rather unceremoniously onto his ass, grasping at his chin. pietro’s chorus of mocking laughter shrieks directly into his ear.
"he got decked!!!" the child squeals in delight, "good hit!"
erik rubs his chin, "pietro, i told you to wait."
"you're not the boss of me."
"i," erik grimaces as he tries to ease his aching jaw. he didn't know charles could punch that hard. by the sight of charles shaking his hand out, he suspects charles didn't either, "i very much am."
"you shouldn't be here," snarls charles but his attention is clearly caught by pietro who is rocking back and forth on his heels.
"good to see you too, old friend," erik grunts out and then watches as charles steps towards and bends get a better look at pietro, "and walking."
charles snaps his head toward him, glaring, "no thanks to you."
truer words had never been spoken. erik attempts to brace himself against the wall. all his thoughts jumble in his mind worse than normal, fighting a brain fog from charles' outburst.
"papa!"
wanda's little hands clutch his arm as she tries with futility to help him up. a very agreeable mood then. good. keeping wanda agreeable was top priority. her eyes narrow at charles, though, which make erik cup her face gently.
"i'm fine. my friend was just surprised to see me," erik assures her. red sparks at her clenched fists, "wanda, deep breaths."
his daughter nods and does so, with no small amount of panic on erik's part. this is why he needed charles. he was a calm in a storm. usually.
hank finally catches up to them, "why don't you two come with me to the kitchen to get some cookies and leave your dad and professor xavier to talk?"
"cookies?" asks pietro before taking off, leaving both charles' and wanda's hair swinging in the breeze he left.
hank sighes and looks to wanda. wanda looks instead to erik with big pleading eyes. he nods at her as she moves, taking hank's hand, smiling at him.
"what kind of cookies?" she asks, rather sweetly as hank leads her down to the kitchen.
erik looks at charles, "we need to talk."
"my study, then."
#cherik#x men#x men first class#charles xavier#erik lehnsherr#magneto#professor x#cherik fanfic#these are just short-hand-ish snippets that idk if i'm gonna turn into a full fic but i wanted to share it#this is just the first of several#the accidental baby trap incident
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