#use your position to act as a podium for them

[smallandangry24]

Listen my fellow gremlins: Disclosure I am not autistic but on the few occasions someone has pointed out that forsaken puzzle piece I’ve had to explain [insert schpiel I can replace with ~the whole shebang~]. Not from my own perspective but amplifying other voices from the autistic community. I’ve seen essays and articles but quite frankly next time I’m just holding up a screenshot of this post.

The below is how I’ve addressed confrontations or discussions on this issue as A NON-AUTISTIC PERSON!! I’m 10000% open to criticism on how to better handle this if I even should, but I’m sharing what has worked best for me so far:

From my very little experience, but experienced nonetheless, a lot of people IGNORE how harmful the puzzle piece symbol is partially because of this creepy infantilization of autism (typically older generations like Gen X and Boomers).

The thought processes I’ve had to address and how to prepare:

“How can it be that bad it’s just a puzzle piece?” (they think children’s game — however illogical they can’t get over the not-a-threat vibe for some reason) : literally use the phrases “missing a piece” and “implying that someone is not a whole human” and “a frankly creepy and weird mindset.” With most people it stops here and they’re a firm ally against autism speaks.

“Autistic people can’t speak for themselves” (which goes back to ableism and sometimes the infantilization creating this illogical circle you have to break): if this is a non-malicious-ignorance issue, receipts are always good or a basic polite reminder that autism does not make you incapable of having and being able to voice your needs, exercise your rights, or self advocate (beyond the struggle of dealing with prejudiced people). literally show them resources or even well-known people if you have to if you are at the this-individual-is-dehumanizing-a-whole-demographic stage. Eternal patience be upon you 🙏

“This is just a new ‘woke agenda’.”They think you’re trying to pick a fight and them feeling personally attacked (even though they definitely are not being attacked 😑) shuts them down from listening. This one is really tricky and generally I would not talk to these kind of people unless you have to…or you may just be looking for a thrill idk. This may sound bad but honestly?? Go for the helping your fellow neighbor route. Vocabulary/diction is king here. Keep in mind that this should have the tone that you are in their side! You are helping them and have their best interest in mind (even though you might want to punch them in the face by this point 😩). Staying calm, constantly keeping track of your facial expressions, appearing open, and seeming invested in helping them are key. AGAIN: this is both difficult and an unhealthy situation so I would NEVER recommend getting into it with these types of people. But firsthand I know that sometimes there is no choice (not for educating in autism speaks but everyone has a family, y’all feel me?)

They cannot fathom that the desire to burn autism speaks to the ground change a harmful stereotype and proclaim that yes, people with autism are self-aware and are in fact humans who have the right to be treated with basic human dignity, is coming directly from autistic people. Like they are the ones writing articles, making posts, and telling their peers about it. Imagine that. This being said these people are often ignorant but not maliciously so and tend to be far more open. Receipts. Show them examples they are everywhere. You can probably look up “autism speaks” on any social media platform for a multitude of brief, enraged, and intelligent examples.

✨✨✨Also friendly reminder to use your circumstances or privilege to uplift the voices of those being spoken over (rather than chiming in yourself).✨✨✨

ngl I thought the puzzle piece as an autistic symbol meant like. I am a vital puzzle piece to your society. humans would never have invented half the things they did without us. you're telling me it means I'm missing something?? buddy. listen. listen to me reeeeaal closely. no human has all the pieces to humanity. no one. no one has all the features enables no one has all the strengths weaknesses or quirks. no one has a whole puzzle. we make the freaking complete picture together. that's the freaking point.

[mv1simp]

High For This ♥️

Max Verstappen x Driver!Reader

you don’t know what’s in store, but you know what you’re here for (trust me girl, you’ll wanna be high for this)

You’re celebrating your P2 out at a London club, hoping the shots you’re taking drown out the annoyance at having lost to your rival, Max Verstappen, yet again. But there’s something a little extra in the tequila tonight that has you set afire for the Dutch Lion. He’s all too happy to put the pretty Ferrari princess in her place - right underneath him.

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, dark!max, sub! Reader, aphrodisiac use, breeding kink, mention of babytrapping, dubcon, size kink, WC 3.7k

The music in the nightclub is head pounding, the loud bass sending vibrations along the dancefloor and up your petite frame. It’s hard to keep track of where your friends have gone amongst all the flashing neon lights and you have to use all your energy to focus on keeping them in sight.

You hadn’t expected to go this crazy tonight, truly. It was meant to be a relaxed night out at dinner with a few friends to celebrate your P2 today in Silverstone. An outstanding result for Ferrari’s first female driver, and anyone else would be celebrating grandly for ending up on the podium as a rookie instead of having a lowkey night! But the victory was bittersweet for you as P1 had been stolen by an….aggressive driver who’d almost slammed you into the walls when you tried to go overtake him. Max Verstappen, Redbull’s golden boy, wasn’t going to give up his status as reigning champion for anyone - even if she was the latest media sensation as the new, pretty Ferrari driver.

It was so unfair, you thought, how Max always seemed to respectfully drive wheel to wheel with your teammate, Charles. You got that they’d driven together for years but didn’t you deserve to be treated with some goddamn respect too? You’d earned your seat, after all, having leaped through endless hoops and battles to get your position and ranking consistently each race! But even though both the Ferrari drivers could make Max sweat, he only seemed to care about his childhood rival, Charles.

Meanwhile, anytime you’d try to sweetly smile at him in the post race debrief and congratulate him, he would ignore you completely at best - or look like he wanted to cut off the conversation at worst. He was probably just a sore loser who couldn’t handle feeling threatened by a girl, you thought sourly a couple races ago when he yet again ignored you, acting as if you didn’t exist but animatedly laughing with your teammate.

So you’d pushed down any feelings of awe or admiration you’d once had growing up for the Dutch Lion and traded them in to throw shady insults and catty comments in the post race interviews. They definitely didn’t go unnoticed by the media, who had a field day with the normally perfect Ferrari princess finally giving them something to gossip about - her star crossed rivalry with the reigning Redbull champion who’s started to turn his stormy gaze on you with the recent change in your attitude. If he was going to just ignore you either way, you thought smugly after your post-race interview today, you might as well have some fun with it.

Tonight you were dragged out by your friends to at least enjoy a nice dinner after P2 - even though you’d been upset about missing out on P1 again. But dinner had turned into cocktails, and then into hopping around a few bars, and finally you’d ended up in a popular booming nightclub, littered with socialites and many of the F1 paddock personalities - even your fellow Ferrari driver. Charles had come upto congratulate you when you arrived, even though you could tell from the clench of his jaw he hadn’t been happy with a rookie outperforming him today. See, you thought brattily. If even your teammate could put his ego aside why did the Redbull champion have to act so up himself?

Your friends distracted you from your tension by handing you a shot. Feeling quite sober, you’d easily slammed it back, and then were handed another. You swear you hadn’t had anymore than that, knowing you were in a very large, popular club with phones trained on you as a pretty F1 driver.

Yet you found yourself feeling heady in the lights and sweat of the neon club, head thumping to the rhythm of the bass as you twirled your body to the beat. Your friends had thought you were finally letting loose and had excitedly gone to get more drinks, and deposited you at Charles’s side while they went to the bar. Out of the corner of your eye, you see a handsome, tall figure at your teammate’s side, intently listening as his muscled forearm nursed a beer. Max.

You can’t resist the scowl on your face as you recognise him. When both drivers immediately turn to you, you realise that you’d accidentally said his name out loud. Oops. Just ignore me. Like you usually do.

Charles glances between you two, somewhat amused, as Max’s eyes narrow at the overly sweet tone that don’t blunt your bratty words. Before your teammate could intervene, his phone rings, with his girlfriend Alex’s photo popping onto the screen. Making you promise to wait here for your friends, Charles takes off into the crowd to find his girl.

You sighed deeply as you watched him go, leaning your head against your palm as you leaned against the counter. Your body felt so heavy suddenly, as if you couldn’t support it anymore. Strange, you really hadn’t thought you’d drunk that much…

Max chuckles lowly next to you. Maybe the precious Ferrari princess just can’t handle her alcohol. You did only have two drinks, after all.

You try to snap your head towards him and glare, but your movements feel sluggish. What, are stalking me now, Verstappen?

For some reason you’re feeling hotter now, almost by the second, fanning yourself despite the cute matching miniskirt and cropped long sleeve set you were wearing. The very picture of the pretty princess you’d been nicknamed, of course, your lush figure and caramel skin highlighted by the revealing and tight outfit. Max is watching you intently, tilting his head to the side. With a start you realize he’s never focused that icy blue gaze directly into your brown doe eyes before - not that you’d noticed, at least. It makes you feel even hotter, pink flush spreading across your chubby cheeks as you dazedly look up at the much taller and broader Dutchman.

Then he’s asking if you want to go somewhere quieter, cool down. You faintly remember promising Charles you’d stay at the bar for your friends but in the moment you take to hesitate, Max has taken your small hand in his and lead you through the crowd. His warm skin against yours makes you feel even hotter, a fire now spreading through your body. You’ve never felt like this before, stumbling in your strappy heels but his strong, vein arm is immediately around your waist and pulling you into him.

Max, you say breathily, letting your head fall against his broad chest as he easily guided you into a secluded hallway. His heartbeat against your ear sounds sounds so much calmer and slower than your rapidly beating one. You feel so desperate for something, but you don’t know what. You close your eyes for a second because your eyelids feel so heavy, and then you’re being lowered onto a sofa, the amazing relief of an aircon blowing across your tanned skin.

You can’t help but moan at the sensation, pretty nipples hardening in the chill and your back arching to bring yourself closer to the cool air as your head lies back. When you’re finally able to open your eyes, you see Max sitting next to you, his icy blue eyes still fixed on your cute blushing face, on your thick, glossy lips that were now parted and breathing heavily. You’re in some sort of private VIP booth, you realise slowly, the door firmly closed behind Max, with the neon red lighting and thumping bass making it clear the club was on the other side.

You feel like you’re forgetting something but it takes all your energy to focus on what it is. Oh! That’s right - I need to tell my frie-friends where I went, you say, feeling out of breath, looking down for your phone but seeing it’s nowhere in sight. Max takes a slow swig of his beer, his gaze also wandering down your body, taking in the way your generous curves were on display in the slutty outfit you’d worn instead of your race suit for once. Already told them, he says casually. They already left to the next club, said they’d meet you there once you’d…settled down a bit.

Oh. You blink, still flushed, your throat feeling parched. Can-can I have some water then, Max?

He smirks. You’re so much cuter when you’re all shy like this. Go on then, get your water.

He gestures behind him, where a pitcher of cool water sits - but with the wall on one side of you and a table directly in front, you have no choice but to go over Max who’s blocking you in. Normally, you would’ve just stood up, or even told him to fuck off and get you the water. But you feel so heavy, so clouded, that it just feels right to just crawl over Max’s legs, to reach past him and grab the jug with a hand…

You’re gulping down the refreshing water, feeling temporary relief to the dryness in your throat. When you finally put the jug down you find that you’re firmly in Max’s lap, your plush thighs straddling his hips and his large hands gripping onto your soft waist. You can’t quite remember just how you ended up like this, so you whine a little and wiggle your hips to try you slide off him. But his grip tightens, angling you forward so that you can feel something very large and hard pressed up against your skirt. He’s eyeing your tits hungrily, your nipples so painfully hard now that the edge of them are peeking out over the top of your neckline. Max licks his smirking lips. Feeling a little hot, Princess? He coos. Do your pretty little tits hurt? Want me to make them feel better?

You quickly shake your head, your pride still standing strong, not sure what he’s talking about when he says he can take away the pain -

But then he’s moving your small body easily against his hard on, his powerful hands controlling your hips. You whine then because oh, this is what he meant, it feels so good, Maxie. Your tiny palms latch onto his muscled shoulders as sparks shoot up your cunny from the delicious friction of his jeans pressing into your soaked panties. You’ve never felt this sensitive before, felt so responsive to someone’s touch…but of course Max would be able to do this. He was just so good at everything. He was the driver you’d always had a childhood crush on - that apparently hadn’t faded away as you bury your whining mouth into his thick, muscular neck, suckling and biting weakly. He chuckles, his large ands greedily roaming across your barely clothed back, sending shivers everytime his skin touched yours. It’s so hot, Maxie, I feel like I’m burning-

When he sweetly whispers that he could take your clothes off, just the outer layer of course, he’d let you keep your bra and panties on. You’re nodding obediently, even the act of moving your heavy head feels too much and grateful he’s here to help you take your miniskirt and crop top off and toss them to the side.

If you were a bit more alert you might realize that you’re now in your rival’s lap, jumping and grinding on his jeans in your cute white lace lingerie. But instead all you can focus on is how good grinding against his impressive hard on feels, mmh, oh my god, even your vibrator couldn’t make you so wet-

Max laughs in your ear. He teasingly asks if your fans know about your little toy, wasn’t that too naughty for their perfect princess to use? He didn’t believe it…unless you told him exactly what you fantasized about when using it, hmm?

The heady feeling from the drinks, from the tension, from Max’s addictive touch sending sparks all over your body as he squeezes your plump ass, has you spilling secrets you never thought you would. About how you’d always think of a certain blonde Dutchman when using your tiny bullet vibrator, biting your lip and imagining how much more exciting the post race interview would be if you two had some other physical way of proving who deserved to win….

You can barely keep track of what’s happening next because the pleasure you’re feeling is already so overwhelming. You can only think about how good you feel, of how Max is huskily whispering that he knows, Princess, what you always wanted because he’d heard you through your hotel walls moaning his name.

You’re so caught up in it all you’re not sure how you ended up panting into Max’s mouth, his tongue shoved deep past your lips as he languidly explores your mouth to his liking. And dazedly you realize your hands are gripping onto his bare shoulders as he’s shirtless now, your soft chest all flushed up against his hard pecs. At least you were wearing your underwear, so it wasn’t that bad-

You finally notice that your lacey bra is actually nowhere in sight, and your bare, juicy tits are now bouncing up against him with each grind. And at some point your cute panties have been ripped in half, hanging on by shreds as Max’s teasing fingers are now toying with your dripping slit from behind.

You squeal, completely startled at the new position, embarrassed that you’re so wet, you hadn’t even known you could do that - so Max lifts you up to throw his jeans to the side because you were making such a mess, Princess. Your mouth eagerly finds his, the deep passionate kiss providing some mind numbing relief to the burning desire you feel. Filthy sounds fill the air - from your kissing, you think dreamily. But you’re so wet you hadn’t even noticed his thick fingers slipping inside until he was buried deep, pumping them in and out of your tight cunny easily.

Within seconds he has you cumming, spraying slick everywhere and making Max smack your ass aggressively as punishment for making such a mess all over his lap. You tear up at his mocking tone, your wide doe eyes pleading for his mercy. He tells you there’s only one way you can make it upto him, a wicked smile on his face as he rubs your pouting thick lips.

That’s how you end up with his cock shoved down your throat, choking and drooling on it as he moans and praises you. Sitting on your generous ass in between his spread thighs, your tiny palms rapidly jerk off his base while you worship his cockhead. You don’t think you’ve ever enjoyed sucking a cock as much as this in your entire life, your pussy continuously gushing and leaving slick all over the dirty club floor. You blush prettily when he tangles his hands through your dark curls, thrusting his hips to fuck your eager mouth.

Things are getting hazier and hazier and your eyes can’t keep themselves open, so overwhelmed from all the sensations and dirty sounds that sounds straight of a porn video filling the air. When you blink them open them again, you’re lying on your back on the sofa, looking up at the dim red lights dazedly. And then you feel the delicious mind numbing pleasure in between your legs, and look down to see Max grunting as he thrusts something thick and veiny in between your spread thighs, sweat dripping down his abs.

It takes you a few seconds to realize that it’s his cock, all thick and angry looking, that he’s bullying into your pussy - making you take him completely raw. Somewhere in the back of your mind you feel like something’s wrong, like maybe he’s forgetting something. But it feels so good that you’re squirting again all over him, throwing your head back and squeezing your eyes shut while he praises you for being such a good, obedient little girl…why weren’t you like this all the time, hmm?

Your mixed juices have ruined the sofa beyond any hopes of repair. Max will have to leave a cheque behind for the clubowner, he thinks wickedly. But that’s for later. For now, he only cares about your twitching, sensitive body underneath him that he’s meanly abusing to pleasure his cock. Your tiny cunny is stretched impossibly wide, so much that it should hurt but instead it feels so addictive, making you pant ah, ah! even in your semi lucid state.

Max grins devilishly as his gaze shifts from your glazed eyes to watch the messy sight of himself sliding in and out of you. He looks even hotter to you in the red neon lighting, all sculpted jawline and his muscled, broad figure highlighted above your much smaller body. He’s gripping you by the hips to move you up and down his length, watching your drooling pussy cover his aching cock in your sticky sweet cum, a creamy white ring forming around his base.

It feels so fuckin’ good you whine, your head lost in cloud 9 of sinful pleasure. You’re confused because you know you’ve already cum twice, and normally would feel so overstimulated by now. But the desire and raw lust is just getting stronger and stronger. It’s all cause you’ve been ignoring how attractive you’ve always found the blonde currently having his way with you, your blissed out brain convinces. So when Max presses down, and you can feel his warm chest up against your bouncing tits, and you wrap your arms around his thick neck and desperately beg him for more.

He smirks, pleased with your obedience, and doesn’t hesitate to ask you to use your words, Princess, making you spell out how you wanted him to fuck you harder, please, you felt like you were going to die if you didn’t cum-

Max makes sure to give you exactly what you so sweetly asked, your cute face flushed and breathless as you gazed adoringly up at him with hearts in your eyes. Your throat becomes raw from how much you scream his name without any regard for who might hear as you reach your high, squirting on his cock, for the third time that night. Your fucked our body finally passes out and you’re sinking into a blissful sleep, finally satisfied. But you don’t know that you’re still split open with him deep inside you as he selfishly chases his own high. His large palms greedily roam all over your pliable body on display under him, biting your soft skin to mark his territory.

The next time you open your brown doe eyes, you’re in an unfamiliar dark room, sprawled across a comfortable white bed. An alarm clock tells you it’s well into the next morning, and you’re sure your manager is furious with the morning debrief you missed hours ago. You’re confused again, not sure how you ended up here, and then your mind catches up to feel a warm and large body pressed into you from behind. Their strong arms are caged around you, so strong that you can’t move, their toned chest rising with every breath they take in deep sleep.

You let out a panicked gasp, the earlier desperation between your thighs now gone intense and replaced with fear at the unknown location, at the unknown man who’s behind you-

Shhhh, prinses, a deep, familiar Dutch voice sleepily murmurs in your ear. It’s just me, hmm?

You immediately relax, a pretty blush spreading across your face as it turns out you’d gone home with the handsome Redbull champion. He hums, the low sound vibrating across your neck and making somehow making desire bloom in your gut despite how thoroughly you’d been fucked last night.

You find yourself teasingly pressing your juicy ass behind you, grinding on his impressive morning wood. He growls, still half asleep himself, but when you brattily grind harder he rewards you with his wandering large hands. You eagerly moan as he squeezes your luscious tits and rolls your pretty dusky nipples in between his fingers, letting out a squeal when he occasionally pinches them.

Soon enough the air is filled with the raunchy sounds of your cunny being used as Max’s hands slide down your hickey covered hips and he sinks a finger into your wet heat. You’re so impossibly wet, and you can’t tell what’s yours and what’s his. Did y-you cum last night Maxie? You ask breathlessly. You’re getting deja vú, as hazy memories of last night surface. You used a condom, right?

He stop your anxious questions by sliding his tongue back into your pouting mouth, darkly promising you that he’d tried to put on the condom, really, but you’d begged and begged him to cum inside, remember? You kept asking to be filled up until it dripped down your legs cause there was so much of it.

You flush furiously at his words, embarrassed of your earlier slutty actions and obediently buried your teary face into the pillow when he pressed down on your head. You let him replace his fingers with his raging erection instead, grunting with each thrust that rocks your petite form underneath him. The silk pillowcase is quickly ruined with your tears and drooling tongue as he presses a heavy palm in between your shoulder blades and practically fucks you into the mattress.

And when Max finally tenses above you, panting into your ear and gripping your ass as he presses his weight down on you from behind, your pussy twitches and spasms as he floods your walls again with his gooey, thick cum. It tastes so good so good, too you think when he sinks his fingers into your folds and makes you lick them clean.

Safe to say, the Dutch Lion had ruined the precious Ferrari Princess for good and left her craving his thick creampies. The sight of you diligently taking your pill every morning as he watched you from his bed, early Monaco sunshine filling it as your scandalous affair continued well after the season, regularly filled Max with annoyance.

But the dark look on his face always disappears by the time you’re crawling back into his strong arms and nuzzling your face into his neck.

Maybe one of these days he’d have to replace your little pills with some of his own again to keep you off the grid and in his bed…permanently. You’d look so pretty knocked up with a Verstappen brat, after all.

—————————————————————————

A/N: I can never resist an enemies with sexual tension with max he’s just so coded for that. Thank you all for the amazing requests I am buzzing with ideas, lmk what you think of this!! 🫶

[menagerofmischief]

not an order but after today‘s race i need rough sex with lando after what happened in qatar do what you want with it… (pretty pls)

tags: rough sex, semi-public sex, no foreplay, unprotected sex, PiV, finishing inside, mentions of qatar 2024 gp,

wc: 1k

a/n: I don't know how I feel about this one, but I hope you'll like it. if you enjoy my work please leave a like or reblog <3

Lando was seething, his body practically vibrating with all the frustration he had been bottling up from the moment his race engineer announced the penalty to him. 10 seconds stop and go, he thought it was ridiculous.

The good start, the great pace, being in position to maybe fight for the win, all of it gone with just one penalty which placed him on the back of the grid by the time he made it out of the pits. Sure, he climbed positions, but being P2 on the start and ending P10 was humiliating. 

Just when the championship battle was finally done and all the reporters going on and on about it finally off his back, this happened. The few days he had to breathe comfortably from Vegas to Qatar felt absolutely too little. 

He played his part, congratulating Oscar on the podium and giving all the mandatory interviews he had to give before he was storming through the paddock, his brows furrowed and features downturned in a frown. 

He made his way back to the McLaren garage, his steps hurried and a bit heavier that they needed to be. His eyes scanned over the large group of people dressed in papaya, mechanics, engineers and other workers, until they finally ended on you.

And there you were, engaged in a polite conversation with one of the social media admins, hands resting on your hips as you smiled and talked to the girl in front of you. He couldn’t bring himself to care.

Lando stormed over, sparing the girl only a tight lipped smile and a polite nod, before he looked at you. He flexed his hand and for a second you thought he was going to offer it to you, but then much to your surprise, the world spun as he leaned down and picked you up over his shoulder.

“Lando!” You gasp, trying to grab onto his arm to stabilize yourself. “What are you doing?”

“I need you,” he says, his voice rough. Lando carries you into his driver’s room and kicks the door closed before putting you down. “This whole thing was shit, the practices, quali, the race. I just need to forget it for a moment.”

Your eyes move up his chest, over his face and then finally connect with his own. His eyes are dark, but you can see how much all of this has weighed him down. There’s still a sparkle of lust in them, however.

You place your palms flat against his stomach, pressing against the material of his fireproofs, and Lando groans lowly, as you lower one hand down to cup his growing erection. It wouldn’t be the first time you two had done something like this after a bad race. 

You push yourself up, lips gently pressing against his own, just a peck, gone as fast as it came. “Go on then,” you tell him, the tone of your voice dropping. “Use me to make yourself forget.”

Lando doesn’t waste a second, pushing you forward until you reach the couch and bending you over the arm of it. You were wearing a long dress which he doesn’t bother taking off, he bunches it up and pushes it up to your stomach.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, his palm landing a sharp smack against your ass before he gropes the flesh. “Forgot to put on panties this morning?”

“Didn’t go with the dress,” you tease, mischief obvious in your voice. “Or maybe I just wanted to give you easier access.”

Lando makes a sound in the back of his throat, almost a growl, as he worlds on removing his racing suit as fast as he can. He pushes the suit down along with his boxers, and gives himself a few pumps before running the cockhead through your folds so your arousal is smeared all over his dick, acting like lube.

You gasp as his tip nudges against your clit but the sound is soon replaced by a moan that makes its way past your lips when he pushes himself inside of you in one thrust, almost embarrassingly easy from how wet you are.

The pace he sets is ruthless, hard rough thrusts that make your body slide forward every time, the tip of his dick grazing against your most sensitive spot repeatedly, his rough hands grabbing and squeezing your tits over the material of your dress.

“Fuck,” he swears, his lips grazing against your ear, his breath hot. “You’re taking me so well, my pretty little slut. Practically a cocksleeve, aren’t you,” he chuckles, his degrading words making your head spin along with all the pleasure he is providing. “One look and you’re dropping your panties. It’s not your fault baby, you just need to be treated like a proper whore.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to care about the volume of your moans, not when he was fucking you so good. Whimpers falling past your parted lips, nails digging into the cushions of the couch as you walls clenched around him, orgasm approaching and the familiar burning sensation filling your lower belly.

“Lando, please!”

“Go on, pretty baby,” he said, his voice rough. One of his hands left your breasts and sneaked down between your legs, his fingers flicking your clit. “Come for me, cum on my dick.”

And you did, body shuddering, with a loud scream of his name, walls clenching around him and pushing him into his own orgasm. Lando groaned, his hips stopping their movement as he spilled his release inside of you.

Lando pulled out slowly, making you whine at the loss of fullness. You could feel his cum starting to leak down your legs as he helped you straighten up and then pulled your dress back down. He gave your ass a small slap, his laugh echoing through the room when you whined. “Come on,” he said, the tone of his voice holding a note of amusement. “Let’s get back to the hotel.”

[monzaaasharl]

Mama McLaren

A/n:: Mark is my favourite F1 dilf. During the making of this I accidentally posted it so this took me even longer than it should have 😝, I also had an insane writer's block, i got this request many months ago and I've only just got around to finishing it. Mixed with this request here!

Pairings:: Mark Webber x Reader, Oscar Piastri x Reader, Lando Norris x Reader

Summary:: Y/n Webber starts to act very motherly towards the McLaren boys

Genre:: Fluff

Warnings:: There aren't any

@pear-1206

Driver x Reader Masterlist Monzaaasharl

It was the third race of the season, but it wasn't just any race, oh no, it was the Australian Grand Prix. Not only was it your husband's home race but also the driver he manages.

Oscar, he was like a son to you with the amount of time he spent with your little family. Well little as in you, your husband, your 21 year old son Noah, and your 17 year old daughter Jasmine.

The Australian Grand Prix was something that the Webber family always looked forward to. And this year, just like the last, you'd be watching the race from the McLaren garage.

"Have you got everything both of you?", you asked your two kids knowing they would forget something.

"Yeah, we've got everything, mum", you received as a response.

"Come on, we don't want to be late now", Mark said knowing fully well there was not a possibily they would be late, but wanted them to get there early to cha to the McLaren boys and give them a small pep talk.

After a peaceful drive in the car through the city, you finally arrived at the paddock.

You made your way through the paddock in your small group, and ended up in the McLaren hospitality.

"How's it goin' you two?" Mark said when he spotted the papaya drivers.

Oscar and Lando both turned around when they heard the familiar voice of the older aussie man.

"Yeah not too bad"

"Everything's going pretty well so far"

"Well we'll just be around if you boys want us", Mark said to both the McLaren boys, not wanting to distract them too much before the race.

"Good luck boys, i know you're going to do amazing", you always felt quite protective over them both.

"Yeah, good luck mate", Noah

"Good luck"

"See ya"

"See you after"

⋆˚✿˚⋆

After an intense Grand Prix and a mix of emotions after seeing Max was out, you found yourself still in the McLaren garage after your husband had left you quickly for the podium ceremony.

Lando had finished third which definitely made you proud, but seeing Oscar so close and just missing out on the podium positions it made you just the slightest bit sad.

When you saw him come back to the garage you made sure to tell him how proud you were of him. He ended up staying with you, Jasmine, and Noah while watching the podium celebrations.

"You did amazing this race, I hope you know that"

"Thank you, I just wish that I could've got onto the podium"

You knew it made him a bit upset knowing he was so close to a podium finish for his home race.

When Mark came back from the podiums he made sure to congratulate Oscar on his race and tell him how well he did even if Oscar didn't feel like he did good enough.

"You did good mate, don't let it bring you down"

"I won't, don't worry"

Oscar made his way to his own family leaving you lot alone.

"Y'know, I always thought after you retired I wouldn't have to worry about someone else racing"

Your husband laughed at your comment and gave you sweet kiss, much to your kids disgust. It didn't matter how old they got, they still didn't like it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for reading! Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are all appreciated!

[appleblueberry-pie]

Yandere GF Yuki +Yandere JJK Harem

A/N: Please just read these first few sentences if this is too long for you. I intended for Yuki and reader to have some sort of dom x sub relationship. Like it runs in her blood to be at least slightly masc. I've been fantasizing about this idea for much longer than I realize. But being able to do this with a literal bad bitch at the top of the OP podium is a dream come true and a treasure. Like I don't think you guys understand, I seriously think Yuki is for the girlies. I see so much queer potential in her, it's not even a joke(hence, the photo). The Yandere Harem includes briefly mentioned Platonic Yanderes(Yuji and Nobara) and more in depth juggling of the mentions of the Romantic Yanderes(Yuki being the main, and the rest taking whatever crumbs they can take. So, Shoko, Gojo, and Nanami). I feel like this isn't going to be organized whatsoever because I usually just write whatever with no kind of order, soooo......idk.

Yuki was all you needed in a person, in your opinion. No one knew you better besides her. You knew her and she knew you. If you could, you'd stay in her arms until your muscles hurt from staying in the same position for so long, and maybe then, you'll be molded together for eternity. That's how much you love her. But of course, her infatuation with you is so much more than a slight obsession for the one you are closely connected to. Everyday when she sees you, she feels both of your spirits connecting. When you two approach each other from different sides of a room, both of your cursed energy seem to blend together like food scents combining to make one sweet aroma. Two separate things colliding so well together.

She can't even fathom the idea of you not being hers. She can't think of a moment where you'd ever leave her either. Her confidence in your devotion and love towards her continues to sooth her mind and body. And she wishes it was just the two of you on this planet, but of course, people try to break you two apart every day. She tries not to mind it, knowing how to handle these types of situations and knowing you know how to hold your own as well. But it seems like everyone loves to test her patience.

Speaking of patience, everyone can tell Gojo was quickly running out of patience that somehow still remained in his body. You two have been together for four years, why haven't you broken up yet?! Not a single one of his relationships lasted this long. Ever. But you two continue to stare at each other as if the other created the sky and water. It's supposed to be you and him doing that. Not you and her. It's not fair and he was getting mad again just staring at the two of you. He tried everything. He tried to give his best flirts with you, tried to get you alone, which worked a few times, but you stayed strong and continually told him no. Fuck, he even fought Yuki. But you found the two of them battling to the death and he'd seen you so angry, he had to step back. The way you stared at him is a face he never wanted directed at him ever again, so he stopped trying to intervene. Only sticking to the waiting game, and it was taking too long.

Nanami was better at waiting. He was better at staying in his place, staying quiet, acting innocent and holding up face. But even he wanted to step out of line to see what it takes to get you to pay attention to him. To get you into his arms. He used to bring the two of you coffee every morning when you showed up at work together, struck conversation with the both of you, spoke with Yuki more than he did with you to try and steer away possibilities that he was trying to get at you. He thought he was good at what he did. It shook him to his core, disturbed him, when he was pulled into a dark room by you-know-who and was asked of his real intentions. "What? Did you want a threesome? Trying to break us up?" She taunted him, telling him he was just like Gojo, trying everything in his power just to get at her girlfriend. Told him it was obvious when he stared from across the room, crossing his legs to hide his boner like a teenage boy. She laughed in his face and cornered him into a wall, threatening to tear out his jugular. "She likes you more than the other rats scattering around us." But he knew better than to assume that would ever be a green light to continue with his tricks. She told him to keep silent like he usually is, and he won't lose the only life he has. He gave up.

Yuki and Ieri formed an alliance. If she keeps an eye out to protect you from the horndogs that constantly surround you, she can talk with you as much as she desires(as much as Yuki allows her to). But in your eyes, Shoko is a weird case. Because you see her more than you do the rest of the men at Jujutsu Tech. And even though Yuki always tells you to watch out for Shoko, she only lets you freely hang around her more than everyone else. You assumed they spoke of something alone because Yuki almost always pulls her away to have a secret conversation about something you can't ever think up an answer for. Shoko was great to you though. Always gave you snacks, was hilarious and knew how to make you laugh. She never smoked around you, saying she doesn't want you to breathe in the flames. And not only that, she flirts with you constantly. But Yuki never seems to care much when it happens. Maybe they became friends not too long ago...? You can't put your finger on it.

It doesn't help that she likes to show you off. It really doesn't help. Often, everyone follows the both of you to get a chance to talk to you. But when she's right there as your guard dog, it brings their chances back down to a zero. And they would just push her away and bribe someone to just throw her in the ditch, but Yuki isn't just a regular shmegular person to fuck around with. She is, in fact, a special grade sorcerer who would fold a good 85% of the sorcerers in her area if she were pushed to do so. So, you are just a beauty to see from afar.

Complimenting your cute outfit before the two of you go somewhere in town, making you spin, squeezing your ass and making you laugh. Kissing your sweet lips and being able to breathe in your scent. They see it all and can't help but fucking fume at not being able to have you. They probably won't ever have you.

Yuki also wishes you'd stop talking to the brats that constantly berate you. Nobara and Yuji are constantly in your space like little puppies excited to see their owner after a long day. Nobara will whine excessively if you are about to be pulled away, or is pulled away. You love to give her hugs and even little gifts that you know she's wanted for a long time. Yuuji consumes every snack you give him in exactly one second, and you tell him every time to please chew it slowly(he never does). He has such convincing puppy eyes and requires you to stay with him for an extra three minutes, which for each minute, Yuki plans to threaten him to leave you alone(they almost fight every time). You treat those two as if they were your children and people can't help but feel extremely jealous every time. Of course you give the younger ones affection, of course they get your snacks, attention and loving. And of course they get the OK to do it because they're young. It makes everyone else sick to their stomach with anger.

Her biggest concern right now is you're telling her about your new friend you've made(that she can't find and stalk for some reason). You say he has long and healthy hair, is very sweet to you and you two talk about religion all of the time and that he has very interesting "political" views. She knows he's a sorcerer because she can smell it on you every time you come back from an outing alone. She knows that this asshole wants you and makes it known by bringing you back to her smelling completely different and she can see his lingering energy surrounding you. It pisses her off. She's definitely gonna have to do something about it.

Anyways. Yuki has it best, obviously. Her only goal is to get you out of sorcery and to just become hers full-time. Not like you need anything else to worry about besides her. I mean, she could just provide for you entirely. She tells you every day that you're lucky that she doesn't have a real dick, because things would definitely be different if so. It makes you squirm happily and she loves teasing you about it every time with her wolfish grin. She knows she'd get some soon if she says it with that playful and hungry tone you love.

[peterspinkrobe]

Communion | AU Priest Miguel O’Hara x female Reader

A/N: I commissioned the above Priest Miguel. Ever since the artist sent the sketch, (@ ejpuki on twitter plz go show love!) this story has been a brewin’ in my cranium. I am not a newbie when it comes to fanfic, but a virgin to writing Miguel. Please accept this offering to the mania that is fandom. Feedback is appreciated. I know the tenses are probably all over the place. Part 2 is live!!. Let me know if you’re interested ~~

Warnings: Religious content, parents, dirty-minded reader, no mention of Y/N

As you sat in the middle pew, aisle seats, you fiddled with the dress your mother guilted you into wearing. The hem of the skirt had a little fraying and you couldn’t help but pick at it.

The meddling was met with a small smack on your wrist from your mother.

“Stop! You’re going to make it worse! I know it’s an old dress but it will only look that way if you pick at it.” The sharpness in tone and the lacy lilac dress from high school brought you back to all of the Sunday mornings you’d been ripped from the comfort of your bed to attend church.

Church. Your head was already starting to hurt from the early morning light pouring through the stained glasses windows, but your tried to remain neutral to spare mom.

Your relationship with the Almighty soured not long after your father passed. Faith was hard to come by and the struggles you’d faced recently only strained that even further.

“Sorry, mama.” You say quietly, acting like you’re still twelve and not in your mid twenties.

Ever since you moved back in you’ve had to live under “her rules”. Sunday service is one of those rules. Considering the headache you’ve caused her recently, you ignore your own and do as she asks. It’s only fair.

But church? Last week was your first time back inside a church since leaving for college five years ago. It was the same one you’d been dragged to in your younger years. The same stained pews, same old books of Psalms, same feeling of estrangement despite being surrounded by the same old folks.

Your mom had turned her attention to the lady that lived on our street and you turned your own attention to your fingernails, scraping underneath them for dirt that wasn’t there. You think about how you had dropped the habit until moving back in, but was interrupted by microphone static.

You pulled your gaze to the front of the church and saw Father Steen tapping the microphone. Despite only being five years since you last saw him, the man seemed to have aged decades. His frail frame balanced on the podium as he spoke. You realized why the microphone was needed when he started speaking - amplifying the hushed tone of the elder addressing his congregation.

“Good morning and many blessings to you all this Sunday morning,” he began and you couldn’t help but lower your gaze back to the frayed bit of your dress. His monotone voice was… kinda boring. You hated thinking that way because Father Steen was such a good man and he cared for your mother greatly when dad passed. He was mentioning an upcoming surgery and you were back to picking at your fingernails. His voice eked on through the speakers, “so we will be having a transitional deacon come in to take over my position until I recover. This fine young man has graciously accepted this position as he is working to become a priest himself. Please welcome Mr. O’Hara as he leads us in prayer to begin communion for this month.”

There is respectful applause and your eyes are still on your hands until your mom elbows you gently. You start to apologize again for not paying attention but notice she and her pew neighbor are giggling as they clap. You start to clap your own hands as you look up at what they were giggling like schoolgirls about when your hands freeze in their clapped position - almost like you’re praying.

The deacon that Father Steen introduced was… gorgeous, and he was looking at you. You blushed, embarrassingly, under the gaze of the dark eyes. Could he tell you hadn’t been paying attention?

Well, you most certainly were now.

You pulled your eyes away from him to look at your mother who was wiggling her eyebrows at you, causing you to blush even deeper and turn back to the front.

The first thing you notice about the man standing at the front of the church was his height. He towered over the podium he placed a hand on. Father Steen came up to only just above his elbows with his hunched body.

The eyes that were watching you now surveyed the room and the light from the windows shown dark, warm pools of irises. His face…

Sharp symmetry made up his countenance. Distinct cheekbones bobbing as the smooth bronze skin stretched upwards into a smile. The strong jawline accentuated with the muscles of his lips pulling back, revealing a dazzling toothy smile.

When he spoke for the first time, you understood why your mom cried during Psalms at times. His voice was gospel.

“Thank you, all, for welcoming me into your parish. I know that you have received excellent spiritual guidance from Father Steen. I can only hope to at least partially fill his shoes in his absence.” His voice boomed throughout the church with no need for a microphone. “Before we begin the sacred ritual that is communion, let us bow our heads in prayer.”

The church around you dutifully lowered their heads, and you did the same. Hating closing your eyes to the alluring man in front of the church. At least his voice still filled your ears with song.

“Heavenly Father, we are gathered here today, in your house, in the name of your Son to receive the Body and Blood of Christ…” you decide it won’t be such a terrible sin to sneak a peek during prayer. You lift your head up to catch another glimpse at the ethereal creature leading prayer while he wasn’t looking.

But he was looking. Right at you as he continued to recite, “We are all sinners, and we are all in need of your grace and forgiveness.” You start to think about how much you needed his grace, when you pinch yourself for the blasphemy.

You’re still staring at each other as he finishes, “We pray that You will bless this communion and that it will deepen our relationships with You.” You instantly feel heat in your gut when you wonder just how deep it can go..

You think you see him grin slightly, but he pulls his eyes away from yours and you quickly put your head back down.

“In Your Blessed Name, Amen.” He ends. “Amen”, the church responds in unison and you squeak it out as well.

The first pew stands and approaches the front of the church, choir boys retrieving the communion goods. You notice that there is a split in the line as one is given the small wafer and grape juice shot by Father Steen and the other line the new deacon.

You can’t keep your eyes off him as he offers the sacrament to each person in line. He is taking longer than Father Steen, seeming to ask questions before presenting the body and blood of a savior.

As it came to be your pew’s turn, you stood. With only a few people in front of you, you studied Miguel’s figure in short glances.

Along with being a towering figure, he was a wide one as well. Muscles filled in the long-sleeved black button down shirt. His large upper body tapered off into a slim waist, tucked neatly into dark pants. A belt accentuated the fit waist even further. Your eyes trailed quickly across the thick neck that was accessorized by the all too familiar white collar of priesthood. When you were just behind one more person, your eyes fell to the floor.

Part of you wished you would be on Father Steen’s side as you feel as though you’re about to burst from this proximity of the giant man. He was bent over speaking to an elder of the church, giving her a soft smile as she blessed him for coming to ‘our little church.’

The man in line in front of you stood to Father Steen and the woman was letting Mr. O’Hara go from a sweet embrace.

Thank God, you guessed, for the years of attending communion as your muscle memory tore your legs from their form rooted position at the altar.

You approached the tall figure and your eyes are locked on the lips of the man in front of you. You see them move, hearing nothing but the beating of your heart in your eardrums.

“I-I’m sorry. What?” You sputter the words and heat creeps into your chest and face.

A soft chuckle escapes his full lips and he smiles as he repeats, “What is your name?”

You give it to him. And he says it. The way your name sounds in his music makes you smile up at him. He holds your gaze for a moment before speaking again.

“The Body of Christ.” He extends his hand in an upward position, the white wafer between his index finger and thumb.

You bow your head slightly in reverence of the offering. As you start to pull your head up again, his pinky and ring finger catch under your chin, lifting your face the rest of the way.

You breathe out a small gasp and open your mouth. He seems to mirror the action slightly as his own mouth drops slightly open. You extend your tongue a little as he places the thin wafer onto it.

His gaze is heavy as he watches you take the offering into your mouth. Your breath hitches when he runs his thumb across your pouted bottom lip, catching some saliva with it.

“Amen.” You respond and it’s not until he pulls his hand from your face when you turn to grab a small glass of grape juice. “The Precious Blood.” You hear him say behind you as you bring the glass to your lips, relishing the sweet refreshment.

Your face is red hot as you turn to walk back to your pew, ignoring your mother’s glances as she had already been back to her seat.

The burning in your cheeks is even more fiery as it dawns on you that the whole church saw the exchange. You hope, you pray, that it was perceived as a normal moment between a new Shepard and a member of his flock.

Communion wraps up and Father Steen takes a seat behind the the new head of church as he begins his sermon. The slight pressure of his thumb on your bottom lip created a pool of heat in your belly that wouldn’t go away.

You try to pay attention to the Good Word, you really do, but your mind is other places. Definitely not holy places.

Maybe coming to church won’t be too bad after all…

[ayrtonswnna]

ʚïɞ "a podium to celebrate" OP81

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀oscar piastri x redbull!driver!oc

summary: in witch aria won't let oscar's first win be ruined.

warnings: fluff all the way down!!!!! this is all fiction and i mean no hate towards lando, i'm a mclaren fan and like both their drivers. swearing, english is not my first language, had to sacrifice lewis 200th win for this.

word count: 1k

"Oscar Piastri, P1! Oh my god! Always on my way!" Aria jumps in excitement as she enters the cool-down room, a cold towel around her neck as she smiles at the Aussie.

They are good friends; physically close, yes, but always professional and caring towards each other. Two rookies from the 2023 season, they've been racing each other since their earlier categories.

"It's my first job ever, you know." he chuckles softly, with a small shrug and a strange tension in the air as he approaches. "Good race to you too! I saw Babybull in my rearview the whole time."

"I’ve got to keep the pressure up," she jokes, wrapping her arms around his waist as he hugs her over the shoulders, playfully. "What happened? Is the car okay?"

"Yeah. Just team stuff." He shrugs again. "We’ll talk later."

And then it hits. A furious Lando Norris storms into the room, a frown on his face as he throws his Pirelli cap on the floor, his helmet making a loud noise as it hits the surface.

"Yeah, you guys surely can talk later." the Brit growls. "Good race, you guys."

"Would’ve liked your place, but yeah." Aria teases, something she often does.

Even a grumpy Max Verstappen on his worst radio days would crack a smile around her in the paddock. But not today, not the race vice-winner.

"Maybe if you asked... I was really supposed to give in. It'd be no news."

"Lando had to give me the position on the last lap." Oscar explains, trying to ease the tension and stop the sarcasm. "The team messed up."

"Oh— Yeah, that’s tough, guys." She sighs, now sitting down in her third-place chair, exchanging glances with the papaya boys. "I’m sorry. But hey! Double podium! Double the points, double the reason to celebrate!" Aria tries to lighten the mood, as the three of them now watch the race highlights on the big screen.

"Don’t act like Babybull and Madmax haven’t done this too many times."

Aria gets it. It’s a fucked-up feeling; swapping spots so late in the race might feel like a P20, it might be terrible. She usually gets along very well with both McLaren drivers, and that’s probably why she’s a bit surprised by the harsh tone in the older boy's voice.

Even the “Babybull” nickname feels off. She was given that name after winning her first race in her rookie year, driving for Red Bull and crying like a baby. Both RB drivers were together in an interview when Max jokingly called her a "baby driving a fast car." The name stuck.

"Never too many." she decides to let the conversation fade, trying to catch Oscar's eyes but failing.

The train of thought has its chance to choo-choo along until they’re getting ready for the podium.

She knows the Aussie driver well enough. He might be feeling terrible, and doesn’t even need to hear the whole situation to feel like the worst teammate in the world. Her head tilts up when she sees her engineer, as the winning trio walks up to the trophy ceremony, their bond strong enough that he knows what she wants to know, even from a distance as they prepare the backstage for the podium.

"Piastri had the lead, they messed up the pit call and Norris stayed out with the lead." the older guy explains, his lips moving just enough for her to read them. They had people in the way, so she has to use a bit if effort to understand. "They told him to switch, he didn’t want to. Obviously. Obviously. It took time to convince him, almost went downhill."

Her mouth forms a perfect "O" before the staff calls her up for the trophy. Aria could already think it was something like this. Mclaren been fooling around with their team decision and even though Oscar is just too polite when talking about it, she did hear some complains. This box call thing is a recurring issue, she listened to him talking about it and could notice the papaya cars having this problem during the races.

Minutes later, Norris is popping the champagne like he hasn’t in the past few races, while Aria’s mind holds her still for the papaya boys to celebrate their double podium. She slowly sets her trophy away from the chaos the area might become, looking at the center of the podium as nothing big happens. No big celebrations, just Oscar holding his trophy while Lando sprays the champagne with force, as he usually does, even if he hasn’t been in the mood for it in recent weeks.

Then Norris heads to spray the cheering crowd, leaving her best friend to celebrate alone. — Of course, if Aria wasn’t there. Her bottle spilling alcohol for a few seconds before she throws it towards Oscar, yelling a loud "2000s for the win!" and laughing as the boy is caught by surprise.

"You’re ridiculous." he jokes, spraying the liquid on her as they start to chase each other like two kids on a playground; their playground, the Hungarian podium of the Formula One championship.

For a while, the guilt and angst Oscar feels over such a controversial win can fade away, and that’s the thing about his friend, or whatever they don’t mind being called.

She is a stream of light — that’s what she does to people in her orbit. The boy is now grinning from ear to ear, finally celebrating his win, something he almost felt he didn’t deserve.

"Future’s looking bright, huh?" She sets the bottle down as they wave a last goodbye to the crowd. "I like sharing this life with you."

Osc nods, a few seconds delayed before he lets his eyes meet his friend's.

It really is like sharing a life; they’re around each other all the time, prefer eating in the common areas in the paddock just so they can have lunch together. They know each other’s parents, celebrate each other’s wins, and visit each other’s hotel rooms late at night. Physical intimacy, it might be happening tonight.

"Yeah, me too," he says, smiling, soaked in champagne, his hair hidden under his cap, his eyes squinting in the sun. "Thank you."

"For what?" Aria chuckles as they’re called off the podium.

"You know what for. I’m lucky to have you."

"We’re lucky to have each other."

ʚïɞ

[jellycrusher]

Wolves and Lambs: Part 3

Alpha Max Verstappen x Omega fem!driver

Genre: Series, Omega verse, Enemies to Lovers, Romance, Eventual smut

Synopsis: Male Alphas are the ones who dominate motor sports all around the world, especially Formula 1. It is a well known fact. Females in general nor Female Omegas are never heard nor encouraged to join the sport since the 1950s. Well, up until now...

Word Count: 3.9k

Chapter’s Premise: "You are his mate."

Taglist: @laura-naruto-fan1998 @fanboyluvr @giffywiffy3408 @notyouraveragemochii @cmleitora @exotic-iris13 @topguncultleader @mirrorball-6 @barcelonaloverf1life @silscintilla

Parts: W&L masterlist / general masterlist

"Mom, how did you know Dad was The One?"

"I just knew. Your dad was a mighty Alpha, someone who commands attention and respect with every step. Out of everyone I've dated, his pheromones were the only one that affected me to such great extent. Turns out he felt the same way with my pheromones."

"Pheromones?"

"Oh my dear y/n. My sweetheart. Someday you'll know in your heart when you meet the right person."

The sound of the V6 engine. Crowds going wild. The feeling of starting on the front row. Red lights go one by one. It's a rush. Nothing can beat this.

Max was quick to snatch the lead from you on Turn 1. Charles also proved he was a tough act to beat. Ferrari's car was faster on the straights but Aston Martin has amazing rear grip during high speed corners.

And for this track with 4 long straights, fast straight line speed was needed. Even with DRS to assist you, you couldn't keep up with Charles. It was degrading your tire too much.

By lap 35, you descended to P12 after a horrific slow pit stop of 3.4 secs. The pressure got to you and you were about to radio-in your frustration but you were also quick to clear your mind.

Y/N: "What is the gap to the car ahead, Ben?!" Ben: "Albon ahead by 2 secs, then Gasly by 4 secs." Y/N: "All on old tires?"

Ben: "Confirm."

You quickly maneuvered your way on the first chicane going on the inside, easily overtaking Albon and Gasly. You gave everything that you can to battle it out with the Mercedes pair. Russell locked up and you took this opportunity to go for wide and overtake. You were in DRS range of Hamilton during the straight and you went for it as you both take the corner.

The remaining laps felt like an eternity. The confidence you had on your car the past few days didn't translate to today's race. Pre-season testing and Qualifying laps were different. Back then, you were getting a feel on the car without actually pushing it to the limit. But now? It's like getting an expensive exclusively tailored running shoe and using it for a marathon after only practicing with it for a few days.

Everyone had their difficulties on the first track of the season since this will be the first time these cars will be tested against each other's. These are experienced drivers. Driving in F2 compared to this is a whole different story.

And then the race ended much quicker than you've anticipated.

As much as you wanted a podium on your first race, it didn't happen. You were grateful to have gotten the pole position during qualifying but you repeat to yourself that P5 on your first race isn't bad. You could've given more but you aren't attuned to the car just yet. It'll get there.

You halt your car at parc ferme along with the other drivers. As you crawl and lift yourself up out the cockpit, the other drivers went on to congratulate you. Pierre and Alex were so quick to put their arm on your shoulders after you removed your helmet and balaclava.

"That was some amazing driving!"

"You got some moves, y/l/n!"

Both cheered at the same time and Pierre even rustled your hair. Yuki and Esteban joined them in congratulating you. Even the elder drivers such as Lewis and Fernando were amused at the camaraderie you've built with the other drivers.

Max was also able to notice your closeness with the other drivers from where he was standing. He had already celebrated with his mechanics and is just waiting at the side to wait for his turn while Carlos is being interviewed for finishing third.

He doesn't usually make a lot of effort to befriend any rookie but it left a bad taste on his tongue knowing that he's the only one you're not in good terms with. His friends are a good judge of characters and seems to be enjoying your company. Being the competitive person that he is, surely it won't be that hard to make you see him as a friend.

After the podium celebration and media commitments, you were summoned back to the hospitality and had a debriefing with the whole team. Datas upon datas are presented on the screen. The team discussed what worked and what didn't work during the whole race weekend.

Fernando praised how technically involved you are with the team for the car's development. In this line of work, you can't be too critical of yourself or else, it might even negatively affect your performance. P5 was a feat worth celebrating.

You ask Megan if you could stay for a bit inside the room to re-watch your race. Your notebook is your only company while you endlessly analyze every bit of your race.

It was enlightening and relaxing after an hour of working alone in the de-briefing room of the Aston Martin hospitality. You bid goodbye to the other mechanics and engineers that were still in the garage and walked across the paddock to your car.

You see, in the paddock, all hospitalities are arranged closest to farthest from the entrance based on your place in the championship last season. It's a given that the race leaders (Red Bull, Ferrari, and Mercedes) are the ones near the entrance. The midfield teams and back markers are at the end

A real Walk of Shame.

But with Alonso's and Lance's help last year, Aston Martin has now become part of the mid-field and a contender for being frontrunner.

You passed by the Ferrari hospitality when you heard Charles' voice calling out your name. He runs to catch up to you and matches your pace.

"Didn't expect you to stay behind as well." Charles called.

"I wasn't satisfied with my performance." You huffed.

"That was one of the best rookie performances on an opening race I've seen so far. Don't be too hard on yourself." He voiced. "Have fun! It's nerve-wracking but one of the best experiences you'll ever feel." Charles pats your head gently.

"You're right. I'm actually having fun looking at the reactions of the boys whenever I beat them." You joked.

"As harsh as it sounds, I'm glad there's a healthy rivalry between you and the grid. Anyways, how will you get back to the hotel?" Charles asked.

"I brought a car. How about you?"

Charles just grinned and chuckled without saying a word. As if waiting for a response.

You come to a realization on what he was hinting. "Do you want to hitch a ride with me?"

Charles did a poor attempt of a wink and did a thumbs-up gesture. You almost snorted in amusement because the man could not wink properly at all. Thank God, he's good-looking.

"As long as I'm driving." You suggest and Charles hitched a breath. "No arguments or else, I'm leaving you here." You looked around at an almost empty paddock.

He contemplated for a minute. "Fine. Just for the record, I am against this and I wanted to be a gentlemen. You owe me a car ride but next time, you're my passenger." Charles gave in and didn't insist.

"Deal."

The drive to the hotel was short but it didn't feel awkward at all. Charles was such a goofball especially when he opened the window and stuck his head out to scream. Clearly, he was on a high for bagging a podium.

There was a brief moment where you and Charles' eyes met. It was actually comforting, rather than awkward. He was comfortable being goofy around you and you were grateful that somehow this moment made you forget how you were beating yourself up because of the race result.

Charles turns up the speaker after he connects it to his phone and even invites you to sing out loud to As It Was by Harry Styles. He bobs his head so hard and screamed every lyrics out the window. You've seen the reactions of some of the people you've passed by. They're either weirded out by a strange man screaming his lungs out or amazed after they've recognized that it was the Charles Leclerc.

A crowd of people were waiting outside the hotel, screaming and cheering when you and Charles arrived at the hotel lobby. Charles waved at them and you dropped the car key to the valet. His fans were screaming his name in a deafening manner.

Charles walked towards them to sign a few merch items that the fans were holding out.

Somebody screamed out your name and it made you stop in your tracks from entering the lobby. It didn't occur to you that you would have fans this early in the season. You were just a rookie. Still a nobody.

Charles also called out your name and pointed at your fans when you turned.

Two small kids and their mom were screaming your name, beaming with joy. As you go near them, you stretched out your hand to take the shirt they're holding that visibly shows your number.

The kid was so adorable when she saw you signing her shirt. She was grinning from ear to ear, bouncing up and down while tugging her mother's shirt.

"She's a massive fan. She said she wanted to be like you when she grows up." Her mother leans slightly forward to whisper.

"Thank you so much! That's such a high honor." You replied as you knelt down and ruffled the kid's hair. "Did you watch my race?"

The kid aggressively nods. "Yes. You were great! I couldn't take my eyes off you from the screen. I promise to watch your race every time!"

"Well, then I promise that you have something worth watching for." You hand back the shirt to the kid and stood up.

Charles was done taking photos and signing stuff for the fans at the same time you were walking back to the lobby.

"Thanks for the ride! I enjoyed it." Charles turns to you after entering the lobby.

"Just rate your Uber Driver 5 stars please." You chuckle. "I enjoyed it too. You're my favorite passenger so far."

Charles was about to talk but was cut by Carlos who suddenly appeared beside him, arms crossed on his chest. You notice that he wasn't aware of your presence yet.

"Hey Charles! Why did I hear from your manager that you refused to use the car back to the hotel? You left it in the parking lot at the --"

Carlos choked at the sudden slap on his back by Charles. "Really? I wasn't aware that we had a car for me." Charles nervously muttered.

The poor man was confused at Charles' deflection but realized straight away when he noticed you watching the two of them. He stood straight up and waved at you.

"Hey Carlos! I brought back your partner in one piece. He hitched a ride with me." You cackled.

"Did he go crazy again? Turned up your speakers on max?" he asks.

"YES! He was a great passenger though." You beamed.

"Hear that? I was a 5-star passenger." Charles puffed out his chest.

"Yes, yes. Mate, you're late for dinner." Carlos said as he pats Charles' shoulder.

"Oh right!" Charles gasped. "Thank you again for the ride. If you need a driver, don't hesitate to contact me. Okay?" he adds as he slowly walk away with Carlos. You nod and gleamed in return.

It was a peaceful walk back to your room. The thrill of your first F1 race was slowly dying down. You weren't as dejected as you were a few minutes ago. Thanks to all the people who were supporting you.

Your phone buzzed as you exit the elevator. You pull it out from your pocket and saw an unexpected name.

HE WHO MUST BE AVOIDED AT ALL TIMES: Hi Y/n! I just would like to congratulate you for a great race. I saw some of the highlights in the cooldown room.

Aston Martin Y/N: Thank you Max. You too, congratulations on P1!

HE WHO MUST BE AVOIDED AT ALL TIMES: So I guess you also have a team dinner?

Aston Martin Y/N: Just a simple one here at the hotel. Nothing too fancy.

Aston Martin Y/N: I'm sure Red Bull would celebrate your win.

HE WHO MUST BE AVOIDED AT ALL TIMES: I didn't want to but Christian insisted. They've started to open the champagnes. Checo also brought some tequila.

Aston Martin Y/N: Tequila as a post-race reward actually sounds good right now

You assumed that was the end of your conversation but it also surprised you that it continued to go on. You were even replying to his messages during your team dinner.

Max was surprisingly easy to talk to. He could throw very hilarious jokes and even shared some memes with you that some fans have made from the Bahrain GP. The one that got you on a chokehold was a meme of George during the driver's parade. A true meme king. You almost snorted out your nose the water you were drinking while you were checking your phone.

Your constant exchange of banters with Max went on even during the two week break until the Saudi Arabia Grand Prix. You haven't yet talked to him personally outside of the phone conversations. It was easier this way. If only his scent wasn't a cause of your torment, you and Max could even be better friends.

Good thing that almost all of the drivers were so busy with media commitments come Wednesday of the Saudi Arabia GP. Even if you enjoy being text mates with Max, you still felt the need to avoid him.

In contrast with what you feel, you find yourself checking your phone almost every hour to see if you've gotten a message. It was quiet.

"How many times have I seen you checking your phone today? Are you waiting for a text?" Oscar asks as he walks with you through the paddock.

"Nah. I don't know. Kinda feels weird my phone is quiet. Must be busy." You murmured. "I heard Lando saying that you have New York Cheesecake for dessert. Can you spare some for me? Steal some from the Mclaren hospitality? Pretty please?" You hide your phone in your pocket and gestured puppy eyes at Oscar while tugging his shirt.

"Geez, you're such a sweet tooth. Fine, I'll steal some and deliver it to your garage later." Oscar replied. He effortlessly leans his arm on your head and teases you.

"Thanks Mom!" You skipped in joy.

"You have to stop calling me that. If that gets out, the people in the internet will surely start making memes of me as Mom Piastri." He jokes.

"That doesn't sound too bad, Mom." You teased the Australian Driver.

Max just got out of the Red Bull hospitality with his physio when he quickly noticed the two of you meters away from him. He takes note of how often he sees you in such a sunny disposition with the other drivers. He wanted to take out his phone and text you right then but was interrupted when his physio called him out.

It's finally race week!

The pace of your car was wonderful during FP1 and FP2 on the first day. There were no issues and the car was enjoyable to drive. You always land in P2 to P4, and it made you confident going into FP3, qualifying and the race.

However, something felt a bit odd on the second day.

Y/N: "There's a bit of a smell. A strange smell coming from the car. Is something wrong?" Ben: "Okay, we'll have a look." Y/N: "Doesn't feel different when driving but can you please double check?" Ben: "Nothing's coming up on our monitors. You can continue." Y/N: "Copy."

This started during FP3 but thankfully, you were able to finish it with no issues.

During Q1, things started to reach a decrescendo. Even the commentators were starting to get uneasy with how many reports you were giving back to your engineer.

Y/N: "My downshifts are really, really bad." Ben: "Standby." Y/N: "They're just super long. The whole downshift procedure." Ben: "Is there a specific corner?" Y/N: "The last corner is fucked up."

What happened on Q2 was the one that takes the cake. It ended your qualifying stint before you even had the chance to get everything out of the car.

Y/N: "Uhh I have a problem. Engine. Engine Problem. It's almost not accelerating." Ben: "Ok. Understood y/n. Well, we'll do what we can. We're happy for you to try and limp home, if possible."

"Traumatic twist that no one saw coming. The dominant Aston Martin car could not complete Qualifying. and y/n will have to fight through from 15th at best." Brundle commentates.

You went back to the hotel feeling dejected and almost wanted to stay cooped up in your room but the boys were so eager for you to join them for a short game night.

The boys were so chaotic playing Overcooked 2 in Lando's room. Yuki and Pierre were screaming at each other on whether they should throw the burgers their avatars were holding or place it on the counter, while Lando and Alex were bickering and laughing while they figure out how to maneuver their avatars.

"I could use some stress reliever. Thank you." You said as you nudge Oscar's side.

"We all needed it." Oscar replies.

Oscar was quick to react when a knock was heard on the door. He ran to get it and came back with Charles and Max following behind.

"Max, such a surprise to see you here!" Alex calls out Max while his eyes are still glued to the screen.

"I begged for him to come." Charles gleefully pats Max's chest and sat beside Alex.

Max sees you standing on the other side of the bed near Pierre and Yuki. You wave at him and he waves back. This was the first time you've interacted with him this weekend.

The first game ended and the boys gave the controllers to the rest of the group. Oscar sat beside you while Charles and Max sat together.

Charles suggested that they change teammates since Charles and Max's team usually wins during game night. As a handicap, Charles would be your teammate and Oscar would be with Max.

You laugh at the suggestion because when Oscar sat down beside Max, he reverted back to his introverted self. He wasn't as close with Max unlike with the others. He looked like a scared little lamb.

Charles was hilarious all throughout the game. He was even more riled up than you. You let him shout the steps to you while you concentrate on finishing the tasks.

Oscar was doing good with Max. They were bickering like kids but they were able to finish the task better than you and Charles. Max was now standing and focusing on the screen like nothing else mattered.

Everyone was basically cheering and screaming at this point. It wouldn't be a surprise if somebody reported a noise complaint.

At the end of the night, everyone bid goodbye to Lando and Oscar and walked back to the elevator together.

"I'm glad you had fun." Max whispers as he leans closer to you. Both of you were at the back of the group.

"I didn't expect for you to join us but I'm glad you did. Now we have the right amount of people to play the game." You replied.

"Oh right..." Max pauses. "Well, I'm glad I came."

Everyone got in the elevator with you being the last one to enter. The boys were still chatting with each other as you were looking at the screen at the side which says the floor. It dinged on the next floor and a group of five entered.

The other 6 drivers were now quiet while the five strangers were chatting. All of you got pushed back and you were now leaning hard against Max who was behind you.

You try your best not to be nervous at the sudden close proximity between you and the dutch driver. Your body burns at the sensation of his hands at your waist trying to steady you after you waddle out of balance when another person got inside the elevator, further pushing you against Max.

Max noticed a sweet scent within the elevator. Probably from the other people who just came in, he thought. However, when his face got close to backside of your neck, the scent got stronger. He can't help but be drawn to the succulent scent you're emitting from your nape.

Your breath hitched in your throat when you felt Max's breath brush against your skin. You could almost feel Max's chest purring against your back.

Max's scent was also starting to change and you were the only one to notice it. The scent emitting from him was sweet and musky. You could almost whimper at how ambrosial it smells. There was no sense of fear, but pure elation.

The other drivers were blissfully unaware of the tension building up between you and Max as they chat away with the others. You also see Charles joking around with Alex and Pierre.

Max felt your knees buckle slightly and his hands that were on your waist steadies you. Unaware of his surroundings, he continues to take in your delectable scent.

"Stop it, Max..." You whisper, careful not to let anyone else hear you but Max.

He was getting drunk with your scent. It was making him dizzy and he couldn't get enough of it. Like a bee being attracted to a flower's nectar.

His fingers on either side of your waist were now starting to bore into your skin. His growls were now getting slightly audible. The other drivers faintly heard it and were starting to notice a sweet scent as well but didn’t actually realize those were coming from you two. You gripped his right wrist but it didn't even faze Max.

It took him out of his trance when you nudged his stomach with your elbow after you heard the elevator ding and the strangers exited. You stride to the side beside Yuki, and Max steps away opposite to you.

No one could describe what happened between you and Max in that elevator. It left the both of you flushed and panting. Your minds lingering on each other's touch. Eyes glued to each other's gaze.

One by one, the drivers stopped at their respective floors. Leaving you and Max to be the last one left in the elevator. Max's eyes never left you. You avoid his gaze and frantically pressed the elevator button.

Max makes his way to you and slaps his hand on the wall next to you, pinning you in position by his proximity. Completely towering over you.

"Care to explain what happened?" Max grumbled, fighting through his daze.

"I don't know what you mean." You whimpered.

"I'm not stupid. Your smell..." Max slowly leans his face near the crook of your neck. He growls under his breath after one whiff of your scent. "Unlike any pheromones I've smelled."

Max was now burying his face in your neck. You notice the screen on the wall about to stop on your floor. "Max!" You push him slightly, freeing yourself away from him.

You stepped out of the elevator, fighting for your life to stay sane and not get affected by Max's scent. Max's eyes were droopy and his lips were glistening.

Max had no control over his body. He was frustrated that he wasn't able to stop you from fleeing away from him. The farther you ran away, the more his daze faded. The doors of the elevator were now closed and continued to ride up the building.

He knew exactly what had happened. He heard about this from Checo and his parents. There was no denying that you were an Omega and the reason why the both of you had felt that way earlier was because the two of you were fated to meet.

You are his mate.

Next part: Part 4

[talkdutchtome]

You Should Have Said No Chapter One

pairing . . . max verstappen x reader / pierre gasly x reader )

summary . . . when your fiancé cheats on you, you strike up an unusual friendship with one of his closest friends, who just so happens to have had a crush on you since he set eyes on you. chaos ensues.

inspired by the works of miss taylor swift )

genre . . . angst )

song . . . should've said no- taylor swift )

warning . . . cheating, mental illness, angst, eventual smut, poorly translated french and dutch, swearing, mention of parent loss, emotionally abusive parent, slight social media au, kendall jenner as fc (potentially more i’ll add as i go along)

series masterlist . . . available here )

“And Pierre Gasley is the winner of the 2023 Monaco Grand Prix”

Pride encapsulated your heart, finally taking a breath after holding it for what seemed like the last few laps of the race when your fiancé had overtaken Max Verstappen on the 70th lap of the race.

You watched him celebrate on the podium with Charles and Max; seeing him take his second ever first place trophy brought tears to your eyes. You two were childhood sweethearts so you had been with him since the beginning of his career and seeing him now win the most prestigious race on the calendar, the one he had dreamed of winning since he was a child, you couldn’t think of anyone who deserved it more.

“I’m so proud of you Mon amour” you exclaimed as soon as he entered his drivers room where you were waiting for him, your arms wrapping around him, planting a congratulatory kiss on his lips. He kissed you back passionately, you could see in his sparkling blue eyes how much this meant to him. All the tireless training, strict dieting and time away from the people he loved the most, finally paying off, finally meaning something. He picks you up, your legs wrapping around his waist, like muscle memory having have been in this position thousands of times before, you face buried in his neck sticky from the champagne inhaling his scent, smelling the cologne you had watched him put on this morning. You felt him breathing in your scent too, nose buried in your long hair, smelling like the Apple shampoo you had been using since before you had met him, the familiar fragrance calming his racing heart.

“Mon chéri, I did it. No, we did it” he whispered in your ear. You were alone in the room but the intimacy of him talking lowly in your ear made your stomach flutter.

You found yourself in the hottest club in Monaco that night with a good portion of the grid, celebrating the three men on the podium. You were never a person interested in clubbing, usually letting Pierre go alone. Your anxiety of overly crowded places being triggered by the dark rooms filled with hundreds of drunk party goers. But today was his night, you couldn’t not be there celebrating his big win. Sat around a table in the VIP section with Pierre, Max, Lando, Charles and his girlfriend, you felt acutely aware of the swirling pit of anxiety in your stomach but you persisted, wanting nothing more than to celebrate with the love of your life. Pierre had his arm lazily draped around your shoulders, engrossed in a conversation with Charles about the race, Max and Lando were talking to two girls who were gushing over them, Lando relishing it in whilst max shuffled awkwardly in his seat, clearly not wanting the girl sat next to him to be rubbing her hands all over his arms and chest. You smiled to yourself, observing that Max was more than likely acting as a wingman for the young British driver. Looking away to reply to a question asked to you by Charles’ girlfriend, you missed the longing gaze Max gave you.

Hours past and as the club closing time drew near, you became increasingly more tired, just wanting to go home and spend the rest of the night alone with Pierre. Lando’s voice interrupted your train of thought “Everyone’s up for the after party after this right? No need for this party to end” he said taking a break from sloppily kissing the girl sat next to him. You looked up at Pierre, trying to gauge what his thoughts on the proposition were. “Hell yeah” he spoke smiling ear to ear. Feeing your heart sink, knowing that your wish of getting some well needed alone time with your fiancé was now no longer going to come to fruition, you whispered in his ear, telling him that you weren’t feeling great so you would like to go home but that you didn’t expect him to come with you, wanting him to make the most of his celebrations.

“Okay Mon chéri, are you sure? I don’t mind coming home with you if you’d prefer” he whispered back to you, smiling at his selflessness, you planted a soft kiss just below his ear. “I’m sure”

Clambering in the Uber with Charles and his girlfriend who had also decided to call it a night, you gazed out the window watching as the picture of Pierre, Max, Lando and the two girls getting smaller as the car drove away. You waved timidly through the windows, putting on a smile, even though you would have preferred Pierre to come with you, you knew that he had been working so hard and deserved a night to blow off steam.

Falling asleep almost as soon as your back hit the mattress of your shared apartment, you slept undisturbed until you heard Pierre come home. He tried his best to be a quiet as he could coming in, but his drunkenness made that difficult and you stirred, half awake and half asleep as he got into bed. Not awake enough to say anything to him, but awake enough to cuddle into him, you breathed in his scent again, subconsciously noticing that he smelled different to how he normally did, but your brain foggy with sleep didn’t think too much of it.

Your 9 AM alarm rolled around far too quickly, tiredness and a light hangover made your head pound but wanting to stick to your daily routine you pushed through it. Planting a kiss on Pierre’s sleeping head before walking into the bathroom. You spent an half an hour in the shower before you put your make up on and placed a painkiller on your tongue, the headache finally getting the better of you. On your way to the kitchen, you peaked your head into the bedroom, giggling at the sight of your sleeping fiancé still snoring away. In the kitchen you turned on some Taylor Swift and began to prepare breakfast for Pierre, placing bacon in the oven, you began to get to work on making a pancake mix until you heard your phone ring, interrupting the song that was currently planning. For some reason unbeknownst to you, you felt your stomach sink, like you almost knew whoever was phoning you was about to tell you some bad news. Shaking the thought away and dismissing it as your anxiety you picked up the phone and saw that the person phoning you was Max Verstappen. Your eyebrows furred for a second, unsure as to why Max Verstappen would be phoning you. You two had never really been friends, just friendly acquaintances. Chalking it up to it likely being something to do with Pierre having lost something at the after party and Max wanting to return it, you swiped your thumb over the screen, accepting the call.

“Hey Max what can I do for you?”

You heard a shaky breath come through the speaker.

“Hi Y/N, do you have a second to speak? There’s something I need to tell you” you heard the Dutchman say his voice shaking as he spoke, causing the sinking feeling in your stomach return, only more prominent now.

“Uhh yea..” there was a silence as Max willed himself to break the news to you, not wanting to tell you but knowing that you deserved to know.

“Max what is it? Please just-“ you managed to squeak out before being interrupted by the voice coming through the phone again.

“Pierre, he.. well he.. After you left Sophia, one of the girls who was sat with me and Lando”

He paused but your mouth was too dry to be able to fill up the silence, you let it linger before he began again

“Well she started to get closer to Pierre, started flirting with him, and he well he didn’t stop her. He started flirting back. I tried to speak to him, I was going to tell him to stop, to remind him why he shouldn’t be doing what he was doing but he disappeared and I couldn’t find him. Or her.”

Silence filled the air again, tears starting to fall down your face, feeling like your entire world was crashing down, silently preying that Max had nothing else to say, that he was not about to go where you knew he was going with this conversation.

“They eventually came back, together. They were both very disheveled and Sophia’s dress was on inside out. They.. I’m really sorry Y/N. I hate to tell you this but you deserve to know”

Silence filled the air again before a loud sob from you took it’s place. You heard Max breath on the other end of the line, waiting for you to say something, anything. You hung up not wanting Max to hear you cry.

You sat down at the kitchen table, tears streaming out of your face freely, and placed your hand over you mouth, not wanting Pierre to wake up hearing your cries, you couldn’t face him, not right now. Maybe Max is lying, or just mistaken, thoughts flew through your mind, desperately looking for something to cling on to, anything. Memories of last night flashed through your head, Pierre smelling different, but he didn’t just smell different, he smelt like Marc Jacobs Daisy; a fragrance you did not own. You began to sob harder, now struggling to breath you were worried you were going to pass out. The breakfast you had began to make lay forgotten until you heard a shrill alarm fill the house, it was burning and it caused the fire alarm to be set off. You tried to raise to your feet to stop the food from starting a fire but you couldn’t move. It was like you had forgotten how to walk.

You heard footsteps approaching in the distance, Pierre came running through, awoken by the alarm trying to find out what on earth was happening.

“Mon chéri what happened what are you doing?” He questioned you, approaching the oven before turning it off and removing the charred food from within. You said nothing. You did nothing. The chair you were sat on faced away from him and you didn’t make the effort to turn around, not wanting to see his face.

“Y/N? Hello? Is there a reason you were about to let the building burn down?” He questioned walking toward you, his hands finding your shoulders as he stood behind you. You flinched at his touch. The touch that an hour ago you would had relished in.

Pierre’s brows furred at your flinching, before walking in front of you. Worry washing over him when he saw your face, red blotchy with mascara tears streaming down it.

“Mon chéri what on ever is wrong?” He spoke in a panicked voice, before attempting to pull you in for a hug. His worries getting more intense when you resisted the hug instead of melting in his arms like you usually did.

“Don’t call me that.” Your voice was no more than a whisper but it was the loudest thing Pierre had ever heard. He looked at you, expressionless. You knew, he didn’t know how you knew but you did.

“Is that what you called her last night?” You spoke again questioning him.

His heart sank and he was completely stuck, he had no idea what to do, pretend he didn’t know what you were talking about or be honest and work on damage control. He flicked between the two options, truly unsure what to do. But in the time it took him to decide the decision had been made for him. An innocent person wouldn’t have paused like that, an innocent person would have looked confused, not guilty.

“Y/N..”

“Don’t Pierre, just don’t bother.”

“Please Mon chéri let me explain.” He pleaded, although he wasn’t exactly sure how to explain.

“Ok Pierre, explain. Explain why you slept with another woman whilst I was sleeping in our bed waiting for you to come home” you spat, the sadness in your voice replaced with venom.

“She was all over me. I was drunk. You left and went home. It was one moment of weakness. She isn’t the one I want, you are.” He spoke, tears welling up in his eyes.

You scoffed at his excuse, or excuses rather, he seemed to just throw everything at the wall to see what one would stick.

You began to speak, to tell him to leave and never come back but he continued.

“Please forgive me Y/N. I love you so so much. She was all over me and I was missing you it was a moment of weakness you have to forgive me” he pleaded, repeating his words from before.

“You missed me so you slept with someone else?” The question left your mouth before you had a chance to stop yourself.

He was taken aback by your bluntness.

“Yes, uh no I mean no” he stumbled “I didn’t mean for it to happen, I wasn’t thinking”

You rolled your eyes, about to reply with another scathing comment but the venom and anger left your body in an instant. Replaced with an unbearable sadness. You wanted so hard to believe what he said, to forgive and forget and carry on with your life as normal, to marry the man stood in front of you just like you had agreed to all those months ago. But you couldn’t, even if you could find it in your heart to forgive him, things would never been the same again.

“Please just leave, I can’t do this anymore.” You spoke as you stood up and began walking away from him.

“Mon chéri please-“ he began but when you looked back at him he could see the heartbreak in your eyes and he simply nodded before walking to the door. His hand reached for the door handle, ready to let himself out when your voice broke the silence again. You didn’t want to ask, you weren’t even sure you wanted the answer but you couldn’t not know.

“Was it worth it?” He looked up at you, shame in his eyes. “Was she worth this?”

He sighed gently and shook his head “No Mon chéri. She wasn’t. Nobody would be” he looked at you, waiting for you to say something, anything.

You looked at him, the man you had loved for more of your life than you hasn’t and did the last thing he expected you to do. You let out a very low very soft laugh.

“Then you should of said no”

[blairdii]

it’s the funniest thing to me that everyone supports an underdog driver till they actually perform exceptionally well.

take lando for example. he was the fan favourite when he had the midfield car, and was still consistently getting podiums or finishing in points. the second he got his first win, so many people switched and forced an egoistic attitude personality on him without even knowing if he’s got such an attitude or not. and then, everyone ran with it. so it became that when he celebrated his wins, he was egoistic, and when he didn’t celebrate his wins, he was ungrateful.

franco is one of lando fans’ fav, because franco reminds us of lando a lot. while he is loved right now, other fans would switch up on him soon and then force an image on him because it fits their narrative.

people hate on lando because of an image they added themselves, but not because his driving, because his driving is actually good. it’s beautiful.

and till the time, people were happy with their fav winning and their fav loving this little underdog dude. now that this underdog dude is defeating their fav and their fav still loves this little underdog dude, people can’t handle it, as if it’s a crime committed against them.

idk where i went with it, im sleep deprived.

sincerely,

your wyr anon

i have so much to say about this issue.

branching off of this post, which captures the entire saga perfectly, i think max fans see lando an inferior, lesser than. granted, lando doesn't have as many wins, doesn't have a wdc yet, but i'm talking 'he must always stay beneath max because that's where he belongs'. it very much boggled me when people started liking lando all over again when the contention (that wasn't even contention since mclaren weren't aiming for it in the first place; lando just so happened to be that good that he was crawling his way up and suddenly the were fighting not only for the wcc, but half-heartedly for the wdc too) was over in las vegas.

this is why i do not take any max fan seriously. i watched them batter this man to pieces in every post they made, wish death upon a man that didn't even do shit, just for them to do a whole 360 and claim they 'like him again'.

saying that he bottled the championship, which is genuinely the most deranged, degenerate thing i've heard because to bottle something, you actually have to be in the advantageous position (read: p fucking 1). which he never was. so this definitely told me that a) people were very much not smart enough to know the meaning off the word 'bottle', and b) they were all just leeching of what each other had said and posting it because they have no competent bone in their body to be independent.

ruined him so bad just for it all to be over something so stupid, for all of his antis to hop off the hate train only because he's not challenging max; it's like they forget the fundamental of this sport, which is competition. max is not always going to dominate, seeing as how many strong prospects are now coming to the grid (and are also having their time to shine after being in the dark for so long). and they need to find some other way to manage that frustration because it's irritating to watch them take lando's words out of context just villainise him.

now, could you argue that all of is this due to the fact that lando had been in a midfield car for so long, that now he has a competing car for basically the first season, people are outraged that someone with no winning experience placed so high? maybe. very much all ifs and buts, but i'm leaning more towards the idea that they just can't believe someone who doesn't act like your sterotypical 'wdc' can contend, or even win it.

proof is in the pudding (twitter, tumblr, instagram). they will yield lando's mental health, the fact that he's so self-critical, the fact that he practised sportsmanship and gave oscar the sprint win, to call him unready, soft, 'mentally weak' to quote some. but then they'll switch up when lando's finally confident about his performance calling him stuck up and egotistic.

max fans are the biggest cowards when it comes to accepting that their fave is, in fact, not untouchable, not the weird god they make him out to be. so they find the need to result to lying about lando to deal with it, and since everyone just acquiescents to it all, other drivers' fans that aren't even affected but just need to hate someone, end up joining the bandwagon as well.

and i fear the same will happen to franco. i've always had it nipping at the back of my mind, because everyone loves him right now. yes, he's in a shit car, and there's nothing he can do about that, but the second he'll starting showing up and properly competing, the fabrications people will hold against this man are inevitable. so many fans do not realise that because you're in a shit car, does not mean you're a shit driver, and that that your results are very limited depending on how inert the car is. hence, they're clouded by that image they've already got about the driver. when franco gets into a team with a better car, they'll still see him as the underdog and think he's unworthy how high he'll place (like we all know he will).

[renegade0897]

"He looked so upset and rightfully so."

Okay, I am going to namedrop this motherfucking slut so hard here. I DO NOT GIVE A FLYING FUCK. These fucking cultist morons have gone far ENOUGH when it comes to defending this inept moron who can't keep it in his pants and zip his fly.

First off, if you're an F1 driver who is trying so fucking hard to get points, and you can back that up by working hard to get them points, and even get on podium or even pole position by both using your own capability if possible, alongside good team strategy and alongside a car that the entire engineering team put their life and soul to make and have it run smoothly and beautifully then kudos to you, you are a good driver, and hell if you can keep a good consistent winning streak from FP1 to race day, you are if not the best in the grid already.

If your performance wasn't that good and you did or didn't get any points but you show to the audience and the stupid biased press media that you can handle failure like a good sport and be able to take criticism, then channel that criticism into motivation to be able to work hard and be better at the next race, then you are the best.

This stupid ignant fucker has the guts to say this on her post.

Like, I'm sorry but " rightfully so?" To the idiot that whines and starts fucking tantrums like a childish moron and keeps on saying snide shit towards the other drivers who are better than him? Like bro, ARE YOU BEING INTENTIONALLY VAGUE?! And when your teammate who PERFORMS BETTER THAN YOU WHEN IT COMES TO CONSISTENCY, outperforms you, your fucking fans send death threats to Oscar, for what? For him doing his job?! I swear, the Norris fans are fucking toxic morons and act like cultists who think their dear leader is one of the best drivers. And some of them even have the guts to say "Norris is on par with Sebastian Vettel in his driving skills."

Like babes, Seb has won 4 WDC titles. Your fucking moronic sex offender has only performed DECENTLY IN ONE SEASON out of his 5 fucking years in F1.

This ln4thewinn, I really hope you see this. And to all of his fans out there, this kid used to be likeable. Now he's a moron whom frankly has turned into the biggest douchebag who acts like a whining fratboy when he doesn't get his way of things.

[callsignspirit]

a ‘date’ to remember | emma brunner

a/n : i just finished fubar and holy shit. emma def gives of lesbian vibes i’m sorry i don’t make the rules - i completely stole this plot from brooklyn nine nine!!! also taking pride in knowing i am the first emma brunner fanfic on tumblr!

not proofread because i 1am and i need to sleep

this one shot is dedicated to this picture 🙏🙏

the squad were piled into the van as luke drove them to the restaurant. they had been briefed shortly before, emma and you would act as a couple in order to get a table at ‘benu’ a new restaurant where a couple of boro’s associates just happened to all be having dinner. while you and emma dined, barry and tina had set up software and the pair’s phones to extract data from surrounding phones and computers.

it wasn’t long before you had reached the restaurant, nerves began to take over your body. you were never nervous on a mission, but it was her. you’d be pining over emma ever since she had joined the team a few weeks ago, much to roo’s disapproval.

hands shaking, you opened the van’s door, stepping out onto the pavement concrete. you watched emma get out to before turning to luke. “we’ll be right around the corner if you need us,” he turned to face you, “and don’t let my baby get hurt!” he threatened before driving off to a safe enough distance where they couldn’t be spotted.

the tension was thick between you and emma as you began to walk towards the restaurant, it was as if both of you were frightened to speak, scared to let your guards down. you politely opened the door for her, earning a small smile and a sheepish head nod in response.

the hostess stood at the podium, looking frustrated. her smile was tight-lipped and her eyebrows were fused together in a mixture of anger and stress. “i’m very sorry but we are over booked tonight.” she stated, glancing up at the two for a split second, before burrowing her head back down into the planner.

you and emma shared a look of worry, if you weren’t able to get a seat in the restaurant, the phones wouldn’t be able to pick up intel from boro’s associates. you had already let him get away once, there’s no way you were going to again.

“are you sure there’s nothing you can do?” you questioned, “it’s actually… the night of our engagement! i would’ve booked but… i didn’t know if she was going to say yes!” you lied, it was the first thing you could think of but it had seemed to work. the hostess began to beam, and offered a table if you waited for a few minutes claiming she would do anything for ‘young love’.

you both made your way over to the bar area, sitting silently waiting for the table to become available. you wanted to say something, but you just didn’t know what. emma was an amazing woman, her work ethic, her fighting skills, her quick wit and thinking, in all honesty you were a little intimidated by her.

luckily, the wait wasn’t long, as before you knew it a waitress had come over to lead you to your table. you assessed the table position, confirming with tina it would be close enough to pick up the data.

you pulled out emma’s chair for her, in order to keep your cover (definitely not in an attempt to woo her), she thanked you, sitting down.

“sorry for the whole engagement thing by the way, it was just the first thing i could think of.” you apologised, wanting to clear the air before you had to endure an entire meal sitting across from her. it wasn’t that she was unbearable, it was that she was irresistible.

“hey, it got us in here didn’t it,” she smiled, reaching across the table to touch your hand to hers.

a bowl of spaghetti, two bottles of wine and a whole lot of small talk later, the phones had finished downloading what they needed to and boro’s men were getting ready to leave. it was the smoothest a mission had gone in the past weeks.

that was until emma seemed to spot someone who could recognise her, she grabbed your arm and whispered, ‘you’re gonna have to trust me.”

before you knew it she had grabbed your face and was leaning in for a kiss. you met her half way, connecting your lips with hers, it was passionate and exciting. metaphorical fireworks were exploding as the two of you practically made out in the middle of the restaurant. a part of you knew it wasn’t real, that it was just a cover, but the other part of you wanted to enjoy what was happening, you opened your eyes to see emma’s tracking the group of men, watching them leave and confirming they were gone.

after they were out the door, she backed away from you, apologising profusely. you didn’t buy it though, you definitely felt a connection between the two of you.

“you felt it too right? there’s something between us! i don’t want to dance around each other for the rest of the mission, we should just confront our feelings. if you don’t feel anything feel free to shut me down but all i know is, i like you emma.” you confessed, breaking eye contact about half way through your speech. a pause filled the conversation as you anticipated her response.

“yeah, what the hell, i like you too, let’s give this a shot,” she declared taking your hand, “now let’s go back to the van.”

“i hate to interrupt this sweet moment but i feel i should remind you both we can all hear your conversation!” roo interjected, you and emma looked at each other, both blushing from embarrassment.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

and some looks at some Documents:

introducing "get happy" as the song jane is diegetically singing at the start of the show....seeming enough confirmation that "pop" falbury takes the place of the grand/parently housekeeper of the film, who mentions in some overlapped dialogue that an aunt was a performer who used to teach the falbury sisters singing & dancing....now presumably a literal grand/parent, who may be attributing their preexisting performance skills, despite having lived on a farm, as from "[like?] your mama"....maybe an "I always [...] song coming [on]" there too

the binder on the table is open to a cast list ft. headshots & a summer stock title/cover sheet, and my efforts at transcribing the pages of the binder on the podium are as follows

left sheet:

6.25 Donna

Music ... We would like to add drums on the 3rd count of 8 on Corbin's NY solo - HAPPY DAYS/I WANT TO BE....

Sound ... We will figure out the timing of the raking SFX at top of show ... pg 1

Music ... We need to update music that there are no words "Shall we? Let's" - GET HAPPY OPENING ... pg 1

Dani ... Need to have eyes up on "We're going to the promised land" GET HAPPY OPENING ... pg 1

Sound ... Creaky door opening SFX sounds like a metal door- we don't like it ... pg 1

Dani ... There is no "That". On the line "We promised THAT we'd make them whole" ... pg 2

Music ... Needs to come in right away after Corbin's last step. Before "easy peasy, kids" HAPPY DAYS/I WANT... ... pg 3

Writer/Feore ... We need to look at "Ow, geez louise". She just needs one "ow" ... pg 4

Ensemble ... Female ensemble should be looking at [?] during "We don't got time" - HAPPY DAYS/I WANT TO BE HAPPY ... pg 4

Music ... Too much time before Gloria's "Say! I've got a place!" - HAPPY DAYS/I WANT TO BE HAPPY ... pg 6

Music/Ensemble ... Need to clean up the sigh in HAPPY DAYS ARE HERE AGAIN ... pg 8

Arianna ... Do not go to grab Joe's hand when you introduce Joe to pop. (Hangover) ... pg 8

Arianna ... It works when Ari stands between Joe and Phil for "And we all won". Yes to that! ... pg 10

Ari, Corbin, Gil, Dani ... We need to fix the weave, escape blocking in ACCENTUATE THE POSITIVE. The running out doesn't work ... pg 13

Ensemble/Jane ... Go over exit cues. "You can all bunk out in the barn tonight". Start to leave. "But" stop. "heave ho" leave ... pg 14

Stage Management ... Is the suitcase structural for her to stand on? ... pg 14

Ari, Corbin, Gil, Dani ... The figure 8 has to be that every time she tries to leave, someone is there - ACCENTUATE THE POSITIVE ... pg 13

Dani ... We need her to play just a little stage left in CHASING RAINBOWS ... pg 15

Dani ... Needs to respond to Joe saying "subtext". Need to say something ... pg 16

right sheet:

Synopsis of Scenes & Musical Numbers

A Technicolor New England farm-turned-theater

[?] - Mid-20th Century

Act One

Scene 1, The Barn at Falbury Farm

Get Happy ... Ja[ne] [...]

Corbin Solo Tap(?)/2^8

Scene 2, M[?] Rehearsal Studio

Happy Days Are Here Again / I Want To Be Happy ... Ensemble [...]

Scene 3, The Yard, the next day

Accentuate the Positive ... Gloria, Joe, Phil, Ensemble [...]

Scene 4, The Cherry Orchard

I'm Always Chasing Rainbows ... Ja[ne] [...]

Scene 5, The Drawing Room at Wingate Manor(?)

Always ... Mrs. Wingate [...]

Always (Reprise) ... [...]

Scene 6, The Barn

It's Only A Paper Moon ... Joe, [...]

Scene 7, The Kitchen, a short time later

The Best Things in Life Are Free ... [...]

Dig For Your Dinner ... Jane(?), [...]

Scene 8, Jane's Bedroom, that evening

Me and My Shadow ... [...]

Scene 9, The Yard, the next morning

Howdy Neighbor, Happy Harvest ... J[ane] [...]

Scene 10, The Drawing Room at Wingate Manor(?), that night

Fi[?][...]

Red Hot Mamma ... Montgomery [...]

Scene 11, The Barn, the next day

'Til We Meet Again ... Gloria, Montgomery, Phil, [...]

You Wonderful You ... [...]

[somedaynotsoon]

Super Small Stardust Saga, Chapter 3

"The Kink starts soon I promise it's not kinky unless you meet 200 aliens first"

Current Route: 1-X-1. X denotes routes that reunite or are otherwise "common"; meaning you can end up on the chapter you're reading by picking multiple different options.

I had to split this chapter into two segments cuz it's quite long. As usual, this is a Cohost archive, so the formatting might be a little broken. This chapter uses a bit more CSS/HTML, so it's even more busted.

"Let's go meet the crew, I guess! I oughta know the folks who are letting me be their captain." You say.

Jynx and Bitwise exchange a nervous glance.

"Oh, uh, am I gonna have to be carried over there?"

"Sure! The Lovelander (and all cruisers built for multiple species accommodation) have walkways for humans installed, and we were working on that on Academy Station, too, but I like carrying you around, you know!" Jynx smirks and thuds a paw near you on the table.

You sigh. Off you go again... ---

Eighteen minutes later, Jynx drops you off in front of a podium. It's not quite your size, so you hop up on top of it with a little bit of climbing and sit on the top of it. The mic from this position is basically at your level, now. You're aware there are plenty of "smaller" species in the Collective - like some that are a bit smaller than earth mice - but this seems more like someone got the units wrong on a podium that was meant for humans.

The podium is at the top of a ramp, giving you a very good view of the crowd in front of you at the bottom of the ramp. Jynx, to your side, has adjusted a holographic screen and camera so that your image is projected onto the side of the immense metal wall behind you. Which, you suppose, must be the side of the Rampant Lovelander, the ship you're meant to be the captain of. You can't even really fathom the scale of it. Even the crowd at the bottom of the ramp seems far away. It's easy to feel lonely at this size.

The crowd consists of so many various species of alien you struggle to really process their appearances as a whole unit. Nevertheless, you do get good vibes from them on the whole. You know that might just be a symptom of mere exposure, but you decided to be optimistic.

[Footnote: As a reminder] [One of the cosmic coincidences frequently observed in interstellar society acts as an extension of the "Mere Exposure" effect. That is, Intelligent aliens of differing body types tend to perceive each other to be “cute”, and develop positive feelings towards them very rapidly when meeting face to face. This recurs and increases in potency when exposed to many individuals at the same time. In other words, it would be rather unusual if Captain Justine *didn't* like the crew.

To put it another way: Welcome to space, prepare to develop a crush on every alien species you meet.]

"Hi everybody! I'm Justine Skylor, and I'll be your new captain! I know it might be a little surprising to see your new Captain's a human, but I hope we all get along! I might be a small gal, but I'll still work super hard to keep things in tip-top shape! Let's all do our best!"

You give a friendly wave. About half of the crowd returns the wave back. You turn to your other side, where your co-captain is standing at attention, doing his best not to look embarrassed about taking orders from a speck.

"Lieutenant Mads Bitwise here will be our co-captain! Please be nice to him, okay? He's got more experience than I do, so don't be afraid to turn to him if you need anything! Lieutenant, if you wouldn't mind briefing the crew on our mission?"

"Oh! Uh, right." Lt. Bitwise begins re-iterating the speech detailing the mission you'd heard in the conference room. In the meantime, you take a moment to check out the ship's dossier, as well as its crew listing and the short file on your assignment.

You decide to glance over the ship's dossier first.

It appears this is a non-combat cruiser. It's got two big interchangeable canisters on the sides, which are changed out when the ship's mission requires more storage or higher firepower, or more crewmate dorms, or whatever else it needs. This is a cross-galactic non-combat mission, so currently it looks like the cans are both basically just storage and crewmate dorms. You resist the temptation to look at the map for now.

Huh, this dossier even has the ship's flag in it. It's a frogman of some sort wearing socks and loafers in a gallivanting pose on a field of azure.

Oh no, did you get assigned to a joke vessel -

Well, you stop looking at the ship's documentation. You have all the time in the world to look at it later, and Mads is like, halfway through the mission briefing. Let's see here...

You look at the crew manifest. You decide not to look at the names or species data for right now, and just look down the list of roles. How many crewmates do you have on this ship, anyway? 20? 30? maybe even 40?

NOPE!!! Your eyes slide off this enormous list of unmemorizable nonsense almost immediately. You barely make it to your crew number - 4 - before you can't even bring yourself to stare at this intimidating and horrible document any longer. 232 crewmates! That's unreasonable.

Maybe you'll get Jynx to help you pick out just the most important ones later.

Okay, let's just glance at the mission briefing again.

Wow, it's way more digestible this way. Still no explanations for why all of these things are called that, though.

Okay, okay. You tune back in just in time for Mads to get done with his briefing.

You turn towards the crowd again, pleased that their attention no longer seems to be solely on you. They're all looking off to the side instead - at - oh no wait that's where the screen where you are is. They're ALL looking at the close-up cam of you sitting on the podium. When did they all start paying so much attention to you?? Was it while Mads was giving his briefing? Were they bored...or fascinated-?

"Ahem! Would the head officers join me and Jynx aboard the top deck? Mads, can you handle organized boarding for the remaining crew? There's like, well over a hundred of all you folks, so I've gotta get acquainted in a more controlled space, I think."

"R-Right, of course, Captain!" Bitwise replies.

Jynx picks you up and sits you on her hat brim this time as she boards the ship.

---

You love the atmosphere on here. The Lovelander has a really rustic, authentic feel. A lot of space stations can feel a bit sterile, but you appreciate how lived-in this space feels. It's spacious, too - and not just in the way that every place is spacious for someone at your size.

Jynx takes a few detours, it feels like - wandering through halls and offices before making a turn into a huge atrium space and getting on a big elevator to the Navigation Deck. There, you're acquainted with the Captain's chair.

Rather than a cushion, the entire thing is elevated to a pretty dignified chamber-space. You suppose that, since you'll be spending a bunch of time on the bridge, without the ability to hop out of your chair and head back downstairs to the same capacity as others, you instead have everything you could need provided here. There's a human-scale captain's chair, a pantry, a table and office cubicle, a sofa and a pretty modern 3d-display TV-thing, and a private room with a shower, plus a walk-in closet and a bunch of other amenities. Plus, it's not exposed, only the front room with the you-sized captain's chair and the desk is. So you do have some degree of privacy in certain parts of it.

Oh yeah. It's all coming together now.

All right, who do you wanna call up first? {To Chapter 4}

[casspurrjoybell-32]

All It Took Was One Look - Chapter 45a

*Warning Adult Content*

Aiden

My heart was beating so hard it was painful.

My grip on Liam's hand tightened but of course being who he was it did faze him a bit.

Holding my breath I watched as Liam pushed open the door.

Forget holding my breath, it caught in my lungs as a sea of faces came into view.

Oh my God... I'm going to die.

Liam had to practically dragged me up to a podium in front of the huge crowd.

Can a person die from sweating too much?

Because I think I'm heading in that direction right now.

I forced my head down and followed Liam reluctantly, peeking up at him under my lashes a few time and saw a blank face and expressionless eyes.

He was pulling this off better than me... that's for sure.

We headed up the stairs of the stage where his parents were at smiling at us.

That made me feel a little better.

Taking his place in front of the podium Liam pulled me close by his side.

I had a sinking feeling as I looked out to see exactly how many faces were here.

'I'm going to throw up,' I thought but Liam's hand tightened in mine as his gaze was staring out into the crowd.

"I've called this meeting to discuss something very important to you all," his voice rang strong and loud and I watched as everyone gave him their undivided attention.

It was amazing to see a whole groups of people of all ages staring up at my boyfriend as if he were king or in this case prince.

I wanted to giggle but I was too scared to do that.

It's one thing to have humans hate your gut because of what you are but a whole different thing having supernatural beings hate you.

They can kill me without breaking a sweat.

'Ugh... What have I gotten myself into?' I scolded myself.

"First I want to start off by saying that I will be taking over my father's position in the next month."

There was an eruption of cheers and claps.

After a while Liam rose his hand to silence them... Instant silence.

"As you all know to get this position you have to have a mate," he paused and I got a bit bold and looked back out to see a lot of people looking over at me with either knowing or confused expressions.

While the others... more of the younger crowd were staring at Liam waiting for him to finish.

I guess the group that had eyes on me knew just like Liam told me they would.

My face was beginning to turn red from the embarrassment.

How would you like it if a whole room of people could smell that you had sex?

"And I have found mine and nothing in this world would make me change what the Spirits have gifted me with."

He turned to face me and I looked up to his 6'2 frame as he gazed down at me with those beautiful soft hazel eyes.

I bit my lip as I stared at him... my heart thumping loudly I'm sure everyone in this room heard.

"Aiden Carlisle has been chosen as my life mate, my other half and I am honored to be his," Liam told his pack but I knew he was mainly talking to me.

There was a sudden knot in my throat but I held it in.

He was really ready to face the wrath of this worlds ignorant assholes for a life with me.

There was a collective gasp and I closed my eyes and awaited the oncoming slaughter that was to befall us.

Liam lifted my chin up with his forefinger and thumb.

I opened my eyes to see him smile encouragingly at me.

"We can do this," he whispered to me and I nodded as my heart became a bit lighter.

He turned back to the room and none to surprising it was filled with loud murmuring as they talked over each other.

"I know this is a shock..." Liam tried to talk but it was to chaotic and I looked up at him worried.

"If we can act civil..." his word were on deaf ears and I could feel him getting frustrated and I squeezed his arm in support.

The uproar was becoming louder, ringing off the walls in the room.

Liam gripped the sides of the podium... the muscles in his arms straining with the amount of force he was putting on the wood... he was going to break it.

He was glaring at the crowd as I looked back at his parents who were staring out with disappointment.

Mr. Jacobs caught my eyes and smiled sympathetically.

This caused me to snap my head back towards the loud angry crowd.

Anger was building up in my chest as I watched them argue and caught a few disgusted stares sent out way.

The weird this was I think a lot of that anger was coming from Liam and channeling inside me.

"Everyone... shut up," I screamed.

My voice rang off through the room causing the room to become quiet.

They were looking up at me in shock.

I took a deep breath as I peered back at Liam, he had a stunned look himself.

But I wasn't finished, I was going to go along with this momentary courage as long as I could.

I stepped around the podium and stared them all down with a look of disappointment.

"So you're all angry about this match?" I asked them my voice traveling across the room.

A lot of them nodded and yelled out in outrage while others just stared.

I didn't wait for them to get started up again.

"That's too damn bad," I cut them off.

"I don't know much about your kind but from what Liam has told me, there is no chose with this. We were meant to be, so what the hell do you think you can do about it?!This is what you're Spirits wanted apparently so are you going to go against what your Goddess or whoever... destined for your Alpha?"

There was silence.

"This is all because I'm a male... I get it. This is all because I can't give this pack an heirs like a woman could and I'm sorry. No one asked for this but you know what? I wouldn't change a thing. Liam has been like an angel to me, helping me though my problems, the same problems that you seem to have with me and I love him for it. I love him with all my heart and I don't care if you ignorant bastards have a shit storm because of it. You can whine and moan about how wrong it is, but to me this is life. This is my life and Liam is my life and I will stand by his side no matter what you throw at me."

I stood there glaring at every shocked and disgusted face.

"So if you have a problem with that you can leave, this is me, your future 'GAY' Luna telling you that if you have a problem with Liam and I being the same gender you can take you worthless ass and get the fuck out. But I'm not sure Alpha Jacobs will be too happy about your blatant disrespect to him and his family. I may not have been here long, only a day but I am tired of the same crap. Of being told I'm an abomination... that I'm going to hell. I'm tired of putting up with all the bullshit being gay comes with and this is where it ends. You will either respect your Alpha and his mate or will not be in this pack and in this house for long," my harsh breath burned my lungs and my vision was blurred with unshed tears.

I felt warm hands placed on my shoulder... I knew it was Liam from the tingles running through me.

He squeezed and the angry haze that clouded my mind soon melted away and I was left with a hundred faces looking at me with wide eyes.

Then everything that just happened shot through my head and my face brightened with humiliation.

I can't believe I did that... I spun on my heels and threw myself in Liam's arms.

He hugged me tightly to his chest as I buried my head in it.

Oh God they were all going to murder me in my sleep.

"If anyone has difficulty understanding my mate's words, it means those of you that have problems with this union are to deal with me and my father," he growled at them and I felt the rumble from his chest against my head.

"So those of you who don't like this can step up now," he ordered.

This caused me to turn my head to see very few members of the pack stepping forward hesitantly.

Most of them were younger members... altogether there were about ten people who didn't seem approve of us... six of them were males... three of which were older with mates of their own.

And one girl who was glaring at us with disgust like the rest of them.

All in all I was shocked... I would have thought since how the whole place became a yelling ground earlier that there would be more.

Liam shook his head at them asked them to wait outside.

"This meeting is dismissed," Liam told them.

They inclined their heads and I saw most of them keeping their eyes from the ten standing by the door as they left.

Liam pulled back grinned down at me.

"You were so damn impressive," he praised and I blushed.

"Thank you."

He lifted me off my feet and twirled me around laughing.

"You are perfect."

He set me down and crashed his lip to mine.

I was caught off guard by his his affection but I wrapped my arms around his neck escaping in his mouth.

"Alright, enough of that, you can take that upstairs."

We pulled apart when Mr. Jacobs interrupted us with a smirk.

Liam and I both blushed deeply as Alpha Jacobs put his hands on my shoulders looking at me with such a proud look I felt a flutter of pride coarse through me.

"You are going to make a damn great Luna Aiden... I can already see it," he smiled at me.

"Really?" I asked and he scoffed.

"Hell yes boy, you changed about more than half the packs mind in the span of two minutes," he commended.

'I did?'

"Welcome to the family Aiden," he told me patting my shoulders and soon Mrs. Jacobs took his place giving me a warm hug.

"I'm so glad my son found you," she whispered in my ear before kissing my cheek.

I watched as they left, walking past the group by the door, who shrank at Mr. Jacobs glare as he motioned them to follow.

[eristic-kaleidoscope]

We Used to be FriENDs - Ch5 Trial Results 3/4

END lived a life at full-throttle, empowered by a hobby that necessitates lightning quick reactions at times and for one’s reflexes to be on point. This might have not been the same situation, but those quick habits came in handy here as one hand darted to the inside of the lab coat she was wearing. She withdrew a gun of her own–Eureka’s railgun, a sleek, square pistol shaped weapon. Two bands of light span the length of the barrel, and the laser sight easily rested on the other’s torso. With a quick action, her hand disengaged the safety and switched the invention on.

“Adrik! Put the gun down or I swear to fuck I’ll shoot you in return!”

A response was immediate.

“What the fuck— why are you stopping me? Are you insane?! This is the only way! It’s US or THEM,”

Adrik retorted in disbelief.

“And what the FUCK d’you think happens if you gun her down?! D’you think An’s just gonna go ‘damn, oh well’? That’ll fuck over everyone–them, us, and all of our dead friends! Fucking–I don’t wanna have to kill you, man–just put it down!”

END’s heart was racing a mile a minute. There was so much she wanted to say, to reason her way out of this. For the first time in her life, Erika Nitro wanted to wait, to avoid acting. There was just no time. 

An, having shot her vision back and forth between the two of them during this exchange, slowly inched her way closer to Calluna, hands still raised. It was harder to tell in the immediate, but she at least wanted to be in the best position possible to shield Calluna if needed.

“... I’m one to hold a grudge.”

An threatened, with less venom than she would normally provide. If nothing else, there was a strong will to survive in that body of her’s.

“Be fucking for real—“ With a gun pointed at Adrik, they’re left with no choice but to slowly lower their aim, one hand raising in the air in defeat as the other placed the gun by their feet. Their movements were shaky, but they complied. “When we all die, you’ll regret this-”

And at once, as soon as the gun Adrik held was no longer pointed towards Calluna, their body jerks before they crumple to the ground with a shout, twitching for a few moments. It only takes a moment to notice the glow that formed on Calluna’s antenna, which was to say… Tazed.

END stared them down until they finally put the gun down. She flinched when they were suddenly zapped–though, thank god, it didn’t look like they'd been murdered for it all.

“Maybe I will,” she answered simply, “but I’ll also regret it if we all die because you killed one of them, too.” She slowly lowered the railgun as well, turning the switch back off but leaving it held in her grip. “I brought this thing here to stop anyone from getting shot, because I’m fucking tired of all of this. I just figured it was Akito who snatched the gun–which, can I just say, fuck Akito for knowing you had that and saying nothing?”

Having heard END’s final speech, An paused to watch her. To process what exactly just happened, with a mixture of both confusion and respect welling up in their chest. They swallowed, their life no longer flashing before their eyes, before they scurried over to the prone Adrik and rummaged through their pockets. An removed their gun from their person, their tablet, and any other belongings they presently carried on their person. Those were no longer things Adrik could be trusted with, after all.

Carrying all of the belongings in her arms like a squirrel prepping to store for the winter, An stored the items behind her podium safely, where they couldn’t be accessed.

“... Thanks.” An gave a nod to END, just briefly.

Calluna laughs looking at Adrik on the ground, though it doesn’t sound kind. 

“Do you realize what you’ve almost caused, with that lethal injector? Do you realize that the two of us are the only reason the REST of you have a chance at survival? We could easily kill all of you for your own superior sync rates but had planned to make the argument to our father to leave you be? You are a fool, nothing more. None of you were going to be at risk of death with this result.”