#wow imagine

[storytellersumayyah]

A sink filled with dishes is the reminder that you ate well. Warm food and cold food, but good food that meant your hands stayed warm and you did everything you wanted.

A basket full of items is the evidence that you’ve been doing better. You ate the food in your fridge and you used the ingredients in the cupboard and you decided you needed snacks.

A room that needs sorting each morning is the proof that you have been living a life. Papers strewn across the table mean you didn’t immediately give in and the supplies on the floor mean you haven’t lost yourself in the whirlwind yet.

A bag full of laundry shows that you haven’t been stagnant. The lack of outfits in the wardrobe mean that you have worn them out and about as you ran errands, went to places and lived your life.

A camera roll full of photos and videos that so need to be sorted through means you are still full of love and brightness. It is a beautiful thing, to have memories worth capturing and making permanent.

A rejection email is nothing more than a sign of a leap of faith. It will sting and you will be sad but you will recover because you tried and two years ago, you wouldn’t have even done that without a gun to your head.

A to do list longer than you think you have time for is an indication that you are living a life you weren’t always able to. It may be a lot, but it is not more than you can handle.

A chore is still a chore and it will always be a chore. But it is also a mark of a life well-lived and a life full of love. A life that is cherished and bright and beautiful.

And it is boring and it is normal and it is full of silly little routines but it was once thought impossible and now it is yours and there is nothing more to say.

these chores are the mark of a life that is soft and cherished

[windandwater]

like put it this way for Discworld fans, if Magrat had been written by Gaiman, she would have been, like, a little hot. like in a skinny goth way. like maybe she's a little cute. like enough to get hit on by some creep, anyway. and [spoiler] would defend her. and it would be like. so fucking romantic you guys.

like god knows I could write other criticism of Pratchett but show me a woman who's allowed to be middle-aged with haystack hair and no style whatsoever and a fucking mess and still get to take on her own villains in her own way and do it while looking a mess and is loved because of it--and she's one of many. like she's not even that notable, for Discworld. show me when that fucker did that.

[heartfullyferal]

IMAGINE if this was a sinday bait call lol

Like the post xx

[me-beef]

@strangeravatar made a great point

i was gonna focus on the spike-hotboxing-celestia aspect but i got distracted somewhere along the way and i think i forgot what joke i was trying to make

but dont you think its interesting how many guards of the exact same color/body type she's managed to accrue?? i do

ooohh you want to go look at our stickers so bad

[erabu-san]

One of their first camp together

[kittysauce]

au where L and Light fall in love during the yotsuba arc ............... i think its a crazy interesting concept

[i-ate-the-rats]

hehehehe oh shit indefinite sad dark shadow (⊙ˍ⊙).

[sakuravalelp]

Don't eat anything else - DC X DP

Using this prompt

Next part

Masterpost

Danny is sure that if it wasn't for his ghost side, he would have already died from malnutrition. Vlad, the monster he is, doesn't allow him to eat any meal without human meat. It's not that he isn't allowed vegetables, fruits, and animal byproducts, but every meal has human meat somehow. Vlad watches him with piercing eyes while he eats, making sure he doesn't avoid the meat.

He's gone days without eating just to avoid it, but eventually, he does have to eat. He has eaten human meat! He wonders if this is why Dan decided to renounce his human side.

Future Vlad had told him that Dan wanted to get rid of his ghost side due to his grief, but maybe Dan thought he would feel better about eating humans if he were a complete ghost. Danny could understand that, but he now knows it wouldn't work...

The Infinite Realms are full of different species, and the act of eating another species that's able to coexist with you in a society feels just as horrendous as cannibalism. Was finding this out what drove Dan mad?

He isn't getting much nutrition when he does eat either, not with him vomiting at least half the times he does. Not that Vlad cares about that;

"Ectoplasm will take care of your body while you stubbornness dies. I do think it would be easier for you if you just stopped being ridiculous and eat."

Ectoplasm and water are the only things he has free access too, and Danny hates how grateful he is for at least having that.

As if things couldn't be worse, he's also been forced to cook the meat. When he started learning how to cook with Tucker's mom, he never, never, would have imagined he would be using his abilities for this. He has grown numb to butchering human corpses…

Corpses are a frequent view in the kitchen. He's scared one day he'll recognize the face of one of them. Vlad knows it and uses to control him, telling him that if he doesn't behave, their next meal might be Tucker or Sam. He hates to admit how docile he's grown.

He hasn't seen Tucker, Sam, or anyone since the explosion in the lab took his family. Vlad doesn't allow him to leave the mansion for anything besides galas. He has him collared like a dog to prevent him from leaving. Except, his collar is a shock bracelet charged with blood blossoms that would inject into his wrist if he tries to escape.

He thought Vlad was bluffing and tried escaping once. His whole body felt like it was burning up in flames, and he wasn't able to move for a week. Vlad told him that next time, the dose would keep him in bed for a month. He hasn't tried escaping since.

He's still talking with them through chat. He doesn't know if Vlad knows, but he doesn't think he does; he told him his phone exploded with the lab. But he can't tell them anything. How could he? How is he supposed to tell them he has cooked humans? That he has eaten humans? That he has grown somewhat numb to it? He can't, and then he feels like he can't talk about anything else that is happening.

Today, as he serves the entrance dish to the first guests Vlad has had since he took Danny in, he forces a fake smile on his face. Inside, he feels a wave of nausea and dread as intense as the first time he was forced to eat human meat. The grotesque irony of presenting this dish, knowing what it contains, twists his stomach and makes his hands tremble ever so slightly.

They don't know. They have no idea that they're being served their own species. They don't know, and Danny is the one forced to make them eat their own kind.

The appetizer is a vegetable-based soup with barely any traces of meat, but the main dish features a full human fillet. The guilt and revulsion claw at his insides, nearly choking him. He has to at least stop them from eating that. He needs to get them out of here somehow. And maybe, just maybe, it’s time to try and put a stop to everything else. He can’t let this atrocity continue.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Tim didn't feel comfortable listening to Masters talk about how good the food would be, while Masters' heir served the appetizer with the fakest smile Tim had ever seen. The teen looked so clearly uncomfortable and scared around his guardian that it was hard to resist the urge to grab the boy and leave.

Masters had praised his godson’s cooking during the gala last week, all the while keeping a hand possessively on the teen’s shoulder. Tim didn't like how controlling it seemed, nor how the grip tightened when the teen mumbled quietly about his name being Danny. It was difficult to witness the entire interaction, especially as the teen appeared to fall into a state of complete dissociation afterward.

They were already planning to investigate Masters due to the suspicious nature of all his contracts, but after the gala, they had to shift their focus to helping the teen. They were fortunate that Masters had granted them easy access to his mansion with the invitation to try Danny's cooking.

They couldn't all go to Masters's and leave Gotham behind, so at the dinner, it was just Bruce, Cass, and Tim. Jason was also in the city because he refused to stay away from an obvious abuse case, but he wasn't allowed at the dinner. He would have attacked Masters just from seeing Danny’s uncomfortable stance under his hand during their greeting.

Masters had insisted that Danny serve the food since he had made it, and now Danny stood beside him, serving him the last plate of soup. Danny stumbled for a moment, and before Tim knew it, he was bathed in soup. Tim blinked, surprised at how the soup wasn’t as hot as he had expected, given the steam rising from the other plates.

"Daniel! What the hell are you doing!?"

Vlad exclaimed, standing up from his place, and the teen beside Tim paled.

“I—I am so sorry!” Danny apologized, using napkins to help clean off the soup, his hands slightly trembling. “Did you get burned?”

"No, no, don't worry about it. I'm okay."

"It isn't okay. Daniel, you ruined Mr. Drake's clothes!"

"Sorry... Let's- I think I have clothes that could fit you... So you could change?"

Oh, so that was why his soup wasn’t hot. Danny had poured it on him deliberately; he was trying to get him alone. Despite how scared Danny looked, it seems he still clung to the hope of escaping. Tim felt a surge of relief and determination. He was glad to see that Danny was looking for a way out, and this chance could be their opportunity to devise a plan.

"Thanks, I would appreciate that." he said as he stood from his sit. He saw how Masters was opening his mouth to say something, but Tim didn't want to risk loosing the opportunity. "Please, don't worry about it Mr. Masters, accidents happen, we'll be back in a moment."

Tim locked eyes with Bruce for just a second, a barely noticeable nod telling him Bruce trusted him to do this right. He then followed Danny through the mansion’s halls and up the stairs, noting that Danny’s bedroom was on the top floor. Danny kept his arms crossed, trying to make himself appear smaller.

"I'm really sorry Mr. Drake. I should have been more careful."

"It's okay really, and please, just call me Tim."

"Oh, um, thanks, but Vlad doesn't like nicknames... would- would it be okay to use Timothy instead?"

“… Yeah, sure.” It seemed Vlad controlled the way Danny was allowed to speak. “Would you mind if I call you Danny then?” Tim asked. He had been mentally referring to him as Danny since the gala and wanted to match that with his spoken words.

Danny shrank farther into himself, and Tim was about to retract his suggestion, but then a small smile appeared on Danny's face and he turned to look at Tim.

"Yeah, I would like that." Danny said in a hushed toned, and a hint of fears in his eyes. Like he was afraid to accept the suggestion.

Tim wondered if Masters had punished Danny for mumbling his preferred name at the gala. However, before he could dwell further on the types of punishments Masters might have used, Danny's eyes widened.

"Ancients, you even have soup on your hair-"

Despite Tim’s attempts to reassure him that everything was okay, Danny continued to apologize throughout the journey to his bedroom. Lamenting how foolish it had been to let the plate slip, and how he should have known better.

Danny’s constant self-reproach made Tim question whether he had misjudged the situation. Maybe it had been a genuine mistake. In theory, it wouldn't matter, because he got to talk alone with Danny either way, but he liked thinking that Danny was reaching out for their help.

Once in Danny's bedroom, Danny beelined to his closet to give Tim a change of clothes. Tim took the opportunity to look around. Danny's room was… impersonal. It was sophisticated and extravagant, like a room that would be featured in a magazine. Tim was sure Danny hadn't decided on the decor. He was surprised to see the bedroom had a large balcony connected to it. Maybe Masters trusted it was high enough for Danny not to attempt escaping through it?

"Would this outfit work for you?"

Danny was holding a suit similar to the one Masters had worn at a previous gala. Now that Tim paid attention to Danny's outfit, he noticed that Danny's clothes today were almost a smaller version of what Masters was wearing, with just enough differences to not be immediately recognized as the same. Thinking back to last weeks gala, their outfits were also similar. To what extent was Masters controlling Danny's life?

"Um... if you don't like it I can grab another one..."

Tim blinked, realizing he had just stared silently at Danny while he offered him the clothes.

"No, sorry, got lost in thoughts, I'm okay using those."

"Okay, I'm glad. Again, sorry for..." Danny motioned to Tims clothes "You can change in my bathroom over there." He pointed to a door beside the bed. "Maybe also take a shower?" Danny got a towel from his closet and offered it to Tim.

"Yeah a shower would be good." Tim said, taking clothes and the towel and entering the bathroom.

He'll talk with Danny once he was changed into clean clothes. If only to calm Danny's guilt about the incident.

Danny's bathroom was spacious, with a jacuzzi bathtub, a separate shower, and one of those popular bidet toilets. From an outside perspective it must look like Danny has anything he could want, but Tim knows better than anyone that money doesn't guaranty a good household. It's sad knowing that any CPS agent that did decide to look into this, would be easily push away by Masters money.

Once Tim had showered and changed clothes, he prepared to go back to the bedroom to talk to Danny, but before he did, a green glow from the corner of his eye caught his attention. Tim sucked a breath when he saw what it was. A syringe with traces of Lazarus waters and blood sat beside the sink.

"Timothy? Everything okay in there? Did the clothes don't fit?"

Tim took a photo of the syringe and sent it to the group chat with the caption, "We may have to add experimentation to Danny's abuse." After taking a sample, he decided to leave the syringe behind, considering the possibility that Masters might use the same syringe more than once and notice its disappearance. He really hoped to get Danny out of there that same day, but if they couldn't, he didn't want to make things more difficult for him.

"Everything is okay! I'll be out in a second."

Tim took one last look around while picking up his dirty clothes, just in case he found anything else. When he left the bathroom, Danny was waiting for him, shifting nervously from side to side. It was time to talk to him.

"Danny, look, I wanted to talk-"

"Ah, let me take your clothes! I'll make sure to clean them and get them back to you!" Danny interrupted him, grabbing his arm and shaking his head with a pleading look.

Tim looked incredulous at Danny for a second, before he realized what was happening and mouthed. "Your bedroom is bugged." He hadn't meant it as a question but Danny had nodded anyway. It was fucked up, Danny couldn't even talk confidently in his own bedroom?

"Right, thank you Danny. I would appreciate that. Perhaps we could take the opportunity to meet again in the future."

Danny gave him the look an adult might give a naive child when talking about an unreachable fantasy, and Tim couldn't help but frown at it. Did Danny believe that even seeing them again was too out of reach?

"That would be great, I'll talk with Vlad about the possibility."

Tim was going to say something else to try to reassure Danny that they would be able to meet, but Danny just handed him two pieces of paper. One was unfolded with text on it, and the other was folded into a small square, smaller than his pinky. He read the unfolded paper first.

- Don't eat anymore of the food. Pretend to have some sort of family emergency and leave, please. Read the other paper when you're far away. -

Tim looked at Danny with questioning wide eyes, but Danny just gave him another pleading look. Tim took a deep breath and took a photo to the paper and sent it to the group chat.

"Oh common, aren't you a little old to ask your guardian about every little meet up you have?" (Would you leave with us?)

Danny gives a nervous chuckle.

"Maybe, but after my family, Vlad tends to be really protective, you know?" He said while pointing to his bracelet.

Tim hadn't noticed how tick the bracelet was before. It was metallic, with a red liquid line in the middle.

"Shock bracelet?" He mouthed.

Danny nodded and then mouthed, "if I scape, it poisons me."

Tim pales a bit at that. They had underestimated how dangerous Masters was.

He motioned to his phone and took a photo of the bracelet after Danny nodded and sent to the group chat with the caption: "Shock bracelet with the capacity of poisoning Danny. We won't be able to get him out right now."

"We should probably go back with the others now."

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Group chat

Coffee is my life: *Photo of the syringe*

Coffee is my life: We may have to add experimentation to Danny's abuse.

Death boy walking: Fuck!

Death boy walking: @ Adoption addict, we have to get the kid out of there now!

Bones? What bones?: Bruce is entertaining Masters with Cass at the moment little wing.

Bones? What bones?: I doubt he'll read this.

The blood son: There's no way that buffoon has any relation with grandfather. He's company does not follow any of the leagues morals.

Light & shadow: Maybe he found another Lazarus pit?

Light & shadow: They're supposedly naturally formed right? It shouldn't be that crazy for someone out of the league to have one.

Computer genius: It might not even be Lazarus waters. The tone is slightly off.

The blood son: It is possible that it is a different variation of dionesium.

Death boy walking: Who cares? He's injecting the kid with that thing!

Not Bruces kid: Hate to say it but the zombie is right, we can find what exactly when Danny is safe.

Coffee is my life: *Photo of paper with text*

Light & shadow: ????

Light & shadow: Is the food poisoned!?

Computer genius: Already told them through comms to not eat anymore food.

Computer genius: If the food is poison it hasn't affected them yet.

Light & shadow: Do you guys have a way to deal with the poison there?

Bones? What bones?: Don't worry Bruce doesn't go anywhere without the poison antidote kit.

Death boy walking: Of course he doesn't. The paranoid bastard.

The blood son: It isn't paranoia if the danger is real Todd.

Computer genius: I'll call Bruce in 10 to pretend a family emergency.

Death boy walking: You are NOT going without Danny!

Bones? What bones?: Any possibility on taking Danny with you @ Coffee is my life?

Coffee is my life: *Photo of bracelet*

Coffee is my life: Shock bracelet with the capacity of poisoning Danny. We won't be able to get him out right now.

Not Bruces kid: WTFWTFWTFWTFWTFWTFWTF

Not Bruces kid: Wasn't this a low stakes rescue???

Not Bruces kid: Why is this man coming up with plans in the big villain category?

Light & shadow: I'm scared of whatever "the other paper" that Danny gave Tim says.

Light & shadow: Wouldn't be surprised if Masters was connected with a trafficking ring.

Bones? What bones?: @ Death boy walking?

Bones? What bones?: You're too silent...

Bones? What bones?: Remember you won't be able to barge in without putting Danny in danger.

Death boy walking: I ALREADY KNOW THAT DICKFACE.

The blood son: Tt, don't be so surprise by the warning Todd.

The blood son: Your past actions have prove it necessary.

Death boy walking: Shut the fuck up demon brat. You're not one to talk.

... The blood son is writing ...

Light & shadow: Everyone have had their outburst of bad decisions.

Light & shadow: Can we go back to Danny?

Light & shadow: How likely do you think it is that he's a meta?

Light & shadow: Because, I think it's pretty high.

Not Bruces kid: Did you see something strange in him on the gala?

Light & shadow: No, but the bracelet are pretty similar to the meta-suppressors collars I've seen in the past.

Computer genius: I'm calling Bruce right now.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

next part

[ashenstars-side]

xie lian!!!!!

[housecow]

so, um… i’m wider.. (june 2022 to now! 215 to 270lbs)

[wannabemasterofwindintraining]

Morro's not a very good mentor

[euthymiaaa]

— longing for someone prompts ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡

im bathing in angst rn, enjoy!

them haunting your mind constantly, but are you even in theirs?

unconciously searching for them wherever, whenever

itching to text them, yet the guilt of pestering them hits

your stomach being on edge whenever you see someone who has a similar figure to theirs

regularly scouring their social media for any updates

them acting so sweetly which turns out to just be a cruel dream

envy creeping up your throat whenever other people hangout with them

taking them off your mind by hanging out with your friends, just for you to only see bits of their personality in your friends

weeping frustruatedly on your knees because you can't stop recalling your memories with them

surrendering to your insecurities; perhaps they truly are better off without you

hopelessly persuading yourself that you were able to go on with life before knowing them, so you can definitely do it after they left

urging the universe to see them one last time before letting them go (it never happens anyways)

"if anyone is listening, please let our paths intertwine again before the day I take my last breath"

[phoenxwright]

Taking a much needed rest with a new friend

[fangirl-dot-com]

Drive To Survive

key:

indented italics - flashbacks, display other than interview, screen changes

February 14, 2025 

The screen is dark as the newest episode of Drive To Survive plays. 

The title read “The Rookie.” It was finally time for the episode that everyone had been waiting for since the 2024 season ended. 

The opening scene starts with multiple flashes of cameras. If people watched the 2023 season, they would know exactly what circuit it was. The Elvis impersonators would give it away as well. 

Standing in a circle was the current world champion, two Ferrari drivers, and the Papaya duo. They smiled forced smirks for the cameras. Yet, they dropped them once they realized the cameras were not pointing to them. The Netflix camera filmed them all turning to face the front. Most of the drivers had confused looks. 

“I didn’t know Checo was a Cars fan,” the microphone picked up the words from the red clad Spaniard. 

Max smirked, the camera zooming in on the Dutchman. 

“He’s not.” 

The camera angle changes to the back of a young woman, blond hair bouncing with every step. A red scarf flowed behind her, white body suit sparkling under the flashes of all the cameras. 

The screen flashed the title before a producer chair was put in a spotlight. The camera angle switched to a back view as a driver walked around and sat in the chair. Their face is completely nonvisible from the camera angle, but people know who it is. 

The lights dim before brightening, and the camera angle is back on the chair with the driver. Blond hair reflects the lighting, as well as a nice smile. The episode clapper is in her hands.  

“Please state your name and team for the camera.” 

The woman in the chair took a breath. 

“My name is Y/n L/n and I drive for the Italian team, Scuderia Ferrari.” 

She clapped the black and white box. A loud beep sounded in the studio as the camera crew started to laugh. The girl in the chair started giggling as well, before acting serious again. 

“Yeah, that was a lie. I drive for the best, the Honda RBPT Oracle Red Bull Racing Formula 1 team. Red doesn’t look the best on me. I prefer navy.” 

She smiles, trying not to laugh once more. 

The camera quickly cuts to black and then fades into a clip, that looks similar to a home video. A young girl is smiling for the camera, tiniest helmet in her hand.  

“How old were you when you started karting?” a voice sounded over the video. 

The blond cocked her head in thought. She smiled at the nostalgia that was running through her mind. 

“I was five.” 

The same little girl was now in a kart, doing donuts on a driveway. 

“My parents had gotten me a kart as a present. They had been talking about starting me as soon as possible. I mean, I had toy cars before for practice. My first one was a bright pink Barbie car and I got that when I was 3.” 

The clip changes to a different scene. This time, it was of a karting circuit. Multiple kids were aiming for the first place spot, but a singular pink kart was going around the outside, taking it from them.  

“I remember my first time winning. It was 2008, a few months after I got my kart. All the boys there looked at me weird when I showed up with my hot pink helmet.” 

“Where you scared?” the interviewer leaned in, awaiting the answer. 

“Of the boys? Not one bit. They should have been more scared of me.” 

It was now a black screen, but multiple voices shouted over it. 

“Y/n L/n wins her first feature karting race. 

“That is another win for the female karter! 

“Y/n L/n wins the European Division for karting in 2010! 

“L/n takes the 2012 Italian Karting Division Championship!” 

“Karting will always be a part of me.” 

“Who kept you going?” 

The girl gave a sad smile to the camera as she looked down at her hands. She knew she had given them permission to talk about the subject. She just didn’t know that they’d go right off the bat. 

“My godfather, Lorenzo.” 

The screen changed to a clip of the small girl running to a taller man. The man was knelt down in the grass, arms open wide to catch the running girl. A gentle smile was on his face as he looked at the trophy in the child’s arms: almost too big for her to carry on her own. 

“I believe that without him, I wouldn’t be in this chair. I owe it all to him.” 

The scene changes once again, to multiple clips of an F4 and F3 car crossing the finish line. 

“Y/n L/n wins her first F4 race of the season! 

“Is she going to take home the championship today? Yes she does! Y/n L/n is the 2018 Formula 4 Champion!

“It is a new year and we are seeing a lot of new rookies in Formula 3. Hold on, is that Y/n L/n? Ah it is! So glad to see the girl here today especially after last year! 

One of the regulars on the show, Will Buxton, was now in the seat. 

“What are your thoughts on L/n’s rise in Formula 3?” 

Will leaned in, getting focused. 

“You have to have such a good foundation in your family and close friends, to be supported, to be good like that. Because without good support, a driver cannot be a good driver.” 

“L/n is across the line to take home her first F3 race win. We were seeing her looking a bit down earlier, so I hope this brings her spirits up because she is making history today.” 

“So, I was disowned right before that race that I won in F3.” The blond shrugged. “I really never had any good support other than like three people. At the time, two of them were just staff too.” 

She giggled at the revelation, knowing what Buxton had said beforehand. 

“Another win for L/n, making her the 2019 Formula 3 champion. Ladies and gentlemen, you do not want to miss watching this racer ever again.” 

Somber music now plays in the background. 

“How nervous were you when you made the jump from the Formula 3 division to Formula 2.” 

The girl gave a nervous scoff. “I was terrified.”

Clips of pictures filled the screen. 

“I had just lost the only person in the world who I know still cared for me.” 

“Heir to the Alessandrino Fortune Has Died” 

“Former Italian Karting Champion Lorenzo Alessandrino Has Passed Away” 

“Lorenzo Alessandrino, 2001 Formula 2 Champion, Is Dead” 

“Y/n L/n Makes Motor Sport History as the First Woman To Start in Formula 2” 

“L/n Takes the Formula 2 Feature Race” 

“Y/n L/n, History Maker: First Female To Win a Formula 2 Race” 

The headlines fade into a video of the podium. A 25-year-old Max Verstappen is visible, holding the 1st place trophy. He is seen watching the 17-year-old Y/n L/n shed some tears during her national anthem, while pointing to the sky when it finished. He gingerly stepped out and handed it to her when cued. She graciously took it from his hands and offered him a wide smile. Max stepped back, watching the young girl openly cry in front of thousands. On the inside, he wished he had that strength. 

“I could tell something was off that day.” 

A new driver was in the chair. Male, blond, and in the same team uniform as the female was. Anybody who’s anybody knew exactly who that was. 

He sucked in a breath. “Obviously, I didn’t know her or what she had been through at the time. Now knowing, I wish I had given her a hug.” 

Max let out a chuckle as he reminisced on that day. 

The screen flashed and the woman was back in the chair.

“I knew who he was. Everyone knew who he was.” Her hands waved around. “Max Verstappen, probably one of the greatest drivers to grace the grid. No one just skips most of F3 and all of F2. You have to be great. And that was Max.” 

“Was he your favorite driver on the grid at that time?” 

She let out a snort. “Oh gosh no.” 

Everyone in the studio laughed. 

The scene changed to you sitting next to Charles at one of the debriefs in Las Vegas. You had no clue why they put you there, because last you knew, you weren’t driving. However, they had said something about wanting the pole sitter and you (who had done the fastest lap in FP1) to talk for a bit. 

Your cheeks were a bit heated as you were truly sitting next to your hero. Charles could only smirk at your very shy nature next to him. He watched you rattle off about some part of the car and the balance. 

The Monegasque cut in. 

“See, this is why she is perfect to be Max’s teammate. They could talk all day.” 

Everyone around them laughed, along with you who gave some quiet giggles. You rolled your eyes. 

“Let’s not talk about the fact that you have your own ‘Leclerifying’ hmmm?” 

The girl smirked at the camera. “There was a certain McLaren driver that always tried to get the attention of a select Spaniard. If Lando was obsessed with Carlos. I was obsessed with the other Ferrari driver. I tried to get his attention on Twitter, er, well now X a couple of times. It was still Twitter when I was using it.” 

“Of course I noticed her tweets.” 

A new driver was now in the seat once again. This time, he wore the iconic Rosso Corsa team polo.  

Charles smiled as he looked down at the multiple rings on his finger. His hand came up to his neck to fidget with a certain necklace. His smile grew as he thought on the memories. 

“I thought it was sweet. A young driver was trying to keep up with the big leagues. I’m pretty sure I responded a couple of times. And Sebastian had put in a good word for her.”

“Sebastian?”

Charles’s eyes widened as he smirked. 

“Vettel. He’s known her for longer than anyone here has.”  

The scene changed again. 

The girl was back as she clapped her hands.

“Charles made my day whenever he responded. To me it was probably like if Harry Styles responded to a fangirl’s tweet or Instagram. I always hoped that I’d make it to Formula 1 and could maybe drive beside him.”

“We were told that you know retired driver Sebastian Vettel.” 

The blond smirked, not nervous but confident. 

“Yeah, I know him. He was really good friends with my godfather.” 

She leans forwards and fixes her shorts. 

“It’s kind of how Max was close to the Schumacher family. Lorenzo worked with Seb multiple times in the very early 2000’s when Seb was still in karting. I want to say probably even before I was born as well. He was a little bit older than Seb, more like a mentor. I was able to catch up with Sebastian around 2020 and I got to meet a few more people.”

“People such as?” they prodded. 

“Kimi, Nico, Mark. I’m pretty sure I met Lewis like once though when I was pretty young. Like probably around 2015. I got to watch a couple of Formula 1 races with them in 2020.”  

The camera cuts to a man wearing the Mercedes logo on his polo. His braids are kept nicely as he smiles at the camera. They hand him a picture of you and him in 2015. His eyes are wide as he keeps looking at the photo and then to the camera. 

“This was her?” Lewis questioned, letting out a small laugh. His eyes squint as he tries to get a closer look in the dark room. 

The scene changes once again, the female driver back in the seat.

“Were you nervous that you might not have made it? To Formula 1 after what happened in 2020?” 

The blond looked down at her hands. 

“There were a few years where I was convinced that I wouldn’t.”  

The screen fades to more headlines. 

“Y/n L/n enters a second year of Formula 2 with PREMA” 

“The Future for F2’s Only Female Driver is Uncertain” 

“L/n Is Out of the Last F2 Race of the Season” 

“PREMA Drops L/n for Her F2 Final Season?” 

A clip of a meeting of some sorts flashed on the screen. You were looking quite down as you picked at the end of a table as someone read off a paper. You didn’t even want to pay attention as they were nailing the final nail into the coffin.

“Prema Racing has decided to let go of driver number 89, Y/n L/n. After the 2022 season, she will no longer race for or have any affiliations with Prema and will be replaced by Ollie Bearman.” 

You spoke up. “But I have a contract until the end of 2023.” 

The representative glared at you, before looking back at the page and kept reading. “Since driver 89 has underperformed in the past 2 years, Prema has decided to break contract. Compensation will be sent at a later time.” 

Vito had silently grasped your shoulder to offer you some comfort, but the hurt had already been done. You were going into a season for the first time since F4, you didn’t have a secured future in the sport. 

Ollie was sitting on the other side, watching you sadly as they basically read your death sentence. The camera zoomed in on you playing with a pen. If one were to look closely, they could see tears streaming down your cheeks. 

Will was back in the seat. 

“A driver without a contract or team cannot drive.” 

The scene changes back to the driver. 

“I mean. I had other options. On the side I was talking to Sebastian and even Nico. I was trying to keep my eyes open for something, anything. Except, it turned out that I didn’t need to.” 

More headlines flashed.  

“DAMS To Sign Both Leclerc and L/n for 2023” 

“Y/n L/n Wins First Two Races of the 2023 Formula 2 Season” 

“L/n Wins Her Third Race with Teammate Arthur Leclerc Behind Her” 

“Y/n L/n Makes History Once Again: First Female To Win Formula 2 Championship” 

“Y/n L/n: Youngest Driver To Win F2 Championship” 

The girl is back in the chair, the spotlight on her. 

“I didn’t know that I’d get the championship my final year. I was skeptical. I really thought that I wouldn’t be able to, since it was my final year, I had been dropped, and I had a new teammate. But I had a really good teammate and a better team. They really put everything into me being the best driver.” 

“What did you think would happen after everything was over? You had won the championship with 1 race to spare.” 

The girl swallowed before speaking. “Obviously, I thought I didn’t have many options. At the time, it seemed as though every door was closed. I kept talking to my manager about it, and every time he said he would come back empty handed. I even talked to him that morning, and he just had a sad smile on his face.” She paused. “I knew that even though I could be the champion, I had nowhere to go after that.” 

The person in the chair changed. 

“So, that was all a lie,” Vito spoke to the camera, a smile on his face. 

The scene had changed. Vito Accardi, Y/n L/n’s manager, was seated in a chair. It looked like he was stressing over his laptop. Stella, L/n’s  race engineer at the time of 2023, was seated across from him. He was silently tapping a pen on the table as he looked over the words on the screen.  

“Too many junk emails?” she teased, settling into her chair. 

The male shook his head. 

The screen showed multiple contracts up at once, lines upon lines were highlighted. The headers at the top of each contract showed very recognizable logos. 

He smirked as he looked directly at the camera. “I couldn’t tell her anything until I knew that there was something for certain.” 

“How many teams wanted her?” 

“All of them.” 

The scene changed to a past driver’s get-together: one that no one had seen before. The group consisted of Max Verstappen, Charles Leclerc, Lando Norris, Lewis Hamilton, Fernando Alonso, Daniel Ricciardo. An odd group, but they were just waiting around (or hiding on a Wednesday). 

Charles was looking down at his phone, while Max was watching him closely. The Monegasque’s fingers were typing at a lightning speed. 

Lando was the one to point it out. 

“What’s got you in a tizzy?” the Briton asked, pulling Charles out of whatever fog he was in. He quickly turned his phone off. 

“Ferrari is wanting to sign someone else, but wouldn’t be able to do so until 2025. Except her manager insists on a seat for 2024.” 

Lewis had his interest piqued. “It is Y/n L/n?” 

“Yeah. My brother has put in great words for her, along with Sebastian. Pierre also says that Alpine is thinking of options too.  She’s,” he huffed, “very good. Almost a little too good.”  

The other Mercedes driver took a sip of his drink. “Toto was just talking to me about that, but he said the same thing. There aren’t any seats available until 2025. But he wants her.” 

Lando rolled his eyes. “So we’ve all gotten the talk about how all the team principals want to sign her. Even McLaren is speaking about how to get her a seat somewhere. Testing driver or something like that.” 

The older Spaniard spoke up. “It would be foolish not to. She has generational talent. Stroll is looking at her as well.” 

“So are we. Except there aren’t any seats,” an Aussie added. 

Max was quietly reading almost every article he could get his hands on about her. In the back of his mind, he knew that Checo was going to retire after this year (especially after what happened at Mexico). He quickly sent one to Christian, only getting a thumbs up. 

Daniel bumped Max. “You’ve been quiet over there. What are your thoughts on the potential rookie?” 

The Dutchman looked up. “What rookie?”

The scene changed back to the Italian man. 

“I’ve been her manager for years. I knew exactly what she needed at that moment. Sure, I could have told her, but I knew she wanted to race in 2024 and not wait. I’m not her manager for nothing.” 

“How did you get in touch with Red Bull’s Christian Horner.” 

The man adjusted in the chair. “Well, even though she wasn’t on their junior team, the actual brand Red Bull was one of her sponsors in karting.” 

The scene changes once again, this time the Team Principal of the currently reining team was now in the seat. 

“Vito had gotten in contact with me when she first started F2,” the older Briton said. “But we wanted to see what would happen. We took a chance at Max, way back then. But this was a bit different.” 

The interviewer asked, “Because she was a girl?” 

Christian shook his head. 

“Because she was 16 at the start: younger than Max was by two years. Sure, she turned 17 at the end of the season due to a later birthday in October. But, we took a step back to see what she could do, especially now that they changed the age rules after Max. She was dropped by PREMA, and we almost took the chance then to maybe bring her in as a development driver. But, Vito was adamant about her wanting a championship. She wanted records broken, and she did.” 

“How did everything go down? Before she knew.” 

He smiled.

“I called him right after I got the article from Max. Youngest to win an F2 Championship and a female on top of that.” 

“Was everything pretty smooth sailing?” 

He shook his head. “I was advised not to sign her, but I was told ‘no’ for Max and you see where that got me. I wasn’t going to let her go to a team that wouldn’t let her shine.” 

The scene changes to the RB19 being driven out at the mock track for training. The girl’s white helmet was a stark contrast against the deep navy of the car. The camera panned to the mock pit wall. Multiple people pressed buttons as they watched you take lap after lap. 

A much older man just looked on with pinched eyebrows, not really interested in seeing what the girl had to offer.

After the final testing times had been clocked, he stood up and slammed his papers on a table, before he left the pits. Christian smirked as he watched him stalk off. He knew he made the right call for the second time. 

“How did it feel being in the seat for the first time?” 

The girl, back in the seat, responded, “It felt surreal.” 

She kept talking as the screen faded into clips of the car. 

The aerial view watched as the car look several laps: getting close ups and shots of the car going around the corners.  

“I went from having the door slammed into my face to the door being blown to bits.” 

“Did Vito ever tell you that he was talking to multiple people at once?” 

She looked at the camera. “He did. But he knew what I needed. That’s why he’s been my manager since 2018.” 

The scene changes to multiple flashing cameras as the girl walked into the paddock for the first time in Vegas. The cameras followed as she straight up walked to the group of older guys, introduced herself, and followed Max as he walked away. The rest of the guys watched her animatedly talk to the man who hated every second of the Las Vegas Grand Prix. 

“The beginning of your season was filled with a lot of highs,” 

The screen flashes to multiple clips of you raising trophies, especially highlighting your podium in Bahrain. 

“And lows.” 

The female’s eyebrows raised. “No kidding.” 

The scene changes to your car flipping in Suzuka before panning to people’s reactions. Many people immediately stood up. Others put their hands over their mouths. Many stayed sitting, frozen in shock over what they just saw. 

The screen fades to black, but radio messages can be heard. 

“Kid, you have to answer me.” 

“Tell me you’re ok. You need to respond.” 

“I can’t lose you too.” 

Charles was back in the chair. Tears could be seen in his lash line as he exhaled a shaky breath. He closed his eyes, trying to get over his emotions. 

“A crash like that doesn’t happen every day. It was awful, just waiting to hear back from her. Really took me back to 2014. Reminded me of Jules. On the same track. Rain. I don’t think I would have finished the season if she hadn’t made it.” 

The scene changes to multiple marshals standing around the car, trying to get to you. Except, you were trapped. They didn’t want to start cutting, just in case there was a fuel leak. They did not need for the car to catch fire.  

“I remember watching Lewis just turn around,” George said, now that he was in the seat. “He kept shaking his head and muttering. I couldn’t stop crying.” 

“Y/n is a driver who was shy at the beginning, but then got more comfortable with you as time passed. She became precious to everyone on the grid.” Oscar offered a smile, but it fell short as he remembered Suzuka. 

“There hadn’t-” Lewis began, but cut short. He swallowed before he kept going. “There hadn’t been a crash like that since 2014. And the last time it happened, he didn’t make it. I was honestly preparing myself for the worst.” 

Max shrugged his shoulders, trying to be nonchalant. Yet, anyone could see that his hands were shaking just a bit, his fingers picking at his skin. 

“She just wouldn’t answer. And then they got Arthur Leclerc on the radio, thinking that he could get to her. Even then, she didn’t respond for what felt like hours. We were all waiting, on the pit lane, just hoping that she’d start talking soon.” 

“What did it feel like for you in the car?” 

The female was back in the seat. 

“All I really remember was seeing the sky and the grass as I rolled, and then nothing. I had totally blacked out. When I was coming to, I just remember hearing so much through the radio, I didn’t know what to make of it. I think I laughed as I answered. I was just happy to be alive.” 

“We know that was your first DNF. Thankfully the second wasn’t as bad.” 

“No kidding,” she laughed. “My car just doesn’t have very good balance.” 

“You’ve had lots of podiums. Which one was the most fulfilling?” 

The girl looked up in thought. Her eyes narrowed, truly going over her options. She didn’t want to have to talk about certain matters, but she didn’t want it to be brought up later. 

She answered, “Imola.” 

“What was so special or daunting because of it?” 

The blond harshly inhaled, before smirking a bit. “Well, lot of people knew how it ended.” 

The scene changes to multiple police cars around the paddock. The camera barely caught a glimpse of two people being let away in handcuff before panning over to the group of drivers. The lens zoomed in on your face, a big bruise forming by your eye. Max was standing protectively near you as Christian was still yelling at the people in the car. The other drivers can be seen hovering around the scene. 

Max gulped before he sighed. 

“I knew it was bad, but not this bad. I’m just glad that I had gotten to her in time.” 

The female stretched. “Except I got a trophy out of it, so, I wasn’t too sad.” 

The scene changes to the next race, where most of the drivers were waiting for the parade. They could tell that someone was missing. Except, right when Lando was about to bring it up, you walked in. Sunglasses were on your eyes, trying to hide the ugly yellow and purple blotch on your face. Except, it didn’t do too much to actually hide it. 

“Afternoon,” you said, sipping on a drink that you brought. Your fingers took off your glasses, multiple drivers wincing. “It’s not that bad.” 

Lando rolled his eyes before muttering, “They shouldn’t have been allowed back in.” 

Max handed you an icepack, which you grabbed immediately. Logan brought you into a side hug and let you rest against him.  

The Dutchman let everyone know that you had finally gotten your restraining order approved. Smiles adorned the rest of the drivers’ faces at the news. 

An older Aussie was now in the seat. 

“I wasn’t there when she met everyone. But I watched Max let her follow him, in Vegas. It was cute, ‘cause I’ve never seen Max act like that before. But she’ s been a good teammate to him. Not trying to be rude, but I’m also putting myself down when I say this: she has been the best teammate that Max has ever had.” 

The scene changes to you and Max in a car on the way to a race. The two of you are seated next to each other and phones are in your hands. A sudden gasp from you has you reaching over to Max, your hand smacking his chest. 

The Dutchman winces. “What?” 

“Taylor Swift broke up with Travis Kelce. Fernando has his chance.” 

Viewers would have thought that Max would seem uninterested, but his eyes widened and he was suddenly leaning over, trying to get a good look at your phone. 

“You’re lying.” 

“No I’m not. See?” You just handed your phone over and Max was instantly enthralled with the device, fingers scrolling quickly. 

“It’s definitely like they have a competitive sibling relationship.” 

Max watched as you were talking to Oscar, the afternoon after you hit his car. Max smirked as he walked past and bumped you on purpose. Your head whipped around, trying to find who did that. Once you saw Max’s shoulders shake as he walked away, it was over. You quickly said goodbye to Oscar before running up to Max. 

What he did not expect was for you to jump on his back, almost sending him face first into cement. He stumbled but his arms were quick to grab your legs. Your giggles were loud next to his ear, but Max guessed that he’d let you stay. 

“I know for a fact that it’s been good to see Max a bit more carefree. Y/n really brings out the good in him. She really does that to everyone though.” 

Rain was pouring down in Brazil, due to a hurricane in the area. The race had been canceled and Max was just chilling in the garage. His eyes caught your figure walking out into the downpour. He watched as you just stood there, getting drenched. That was until you started dancing to no music at all. 

Max got up from his seat and walked over to a manager. 

“May I?” he asked, the manager nodding his head. 

He plugged his phone into a jack and clicked on a specific playlist that the two of you had made together. Normally, it would be playing while the two of you warmed up to get ready in the car. But now it was playing as you continued to dance. 

Max quickly joined you and bumped you with his hip. The cameras caught you looking up at your older teammate, whose body was quickly getting drenched. Before long, the two of you were dancing in the rain. 

And very possibly, the other drivers joined in too. 

“She really cares for him. It was like they met and clicked right away.” 

Clips of you and Max filled the screen. Walking together in the paddock, signing things for fans, doing stupid things for media day, congratulating each other after races. 

It showed you checking on him after a DNF, wanting a legitimate answer if he was okay or not. Once Max gave the thumbs up and Mitch told you that he was, the cameras in your car showed how your body visibly relaxed after know that he was ok. 

“Sure, they’ve had their troubles.” 

The scene changes to Max passing you in Monaco. 

Your voice was heard over the scene. “What an asshole.”

The scene changed to you not letting Max pass and him hitting the back of your RB20 in Belgium. 

“That was a rookie mistake.” 

The viewers knew that they had deliberately cut a certain action out of the scene, but it was something that they were actually thankful that Netflix cut. 

“But they always apologize and get back to it. I think that’s how she got her first win. She needed to know that they could truly work as a team.” 

The scene showed you and Max giving each other a big hug in The Netherlands after Max won the Dutch Grand Prix. 

The scene changes once more. 

“How was it? Winning in the city of red.” 

“Words cannot express.” 

The screen showed you walking in on that fateful morning, bright orange car in the background. You waved to the crowds, who seemed to get louder with your attention. Your smile brightly shone as you kept walking, only stopping momentarily for a few autographs and pictures. 

“Y/n L/n On Pole in Monza – Youngest Pole Sitter in F1 History”

“There she goes! Y/n L/n has won the 2024 Italian Grand Prix. She was starving, but now she’s been satiated. The youngest pole sitter and turned that into a win.”  

“Y/n L/n – First Female To Ever Win a Formula 1 Grand Prix” 

"Y/n L/n Hailed as 'The Long Awaited' by Italian Fans"

The camera pans to the girl standing on the nose of her car, hands stretched up reaching for the sky. Max, who had DNF earlier, came over. She grasped him tightly, legs around his waist. Christian was behind them, joining in the celebrations. Soon, the entirety of the crew got over the barrier and flooded the area. The two Ferrari drivers, in a respectable P2 and P3, watched as the female driver was almost covered by people. If it wasn’t them, then they were glad it was her. 

The blond returned back to the seat. 

“Let me tell you, the after party was probably my favorite part of the weekend. Well, besides the winning part.” 

“After Monza, how did the rest of the season go.” 

“Well, I did go on to win 3 more races.” The girl smirked. 

Clips of the number 89 car crossing the finish line cover the screen. 

“Y/n L/n takes her second win of the season after Monza in Mexico! 

It showed you waving to the crowds of Mexico, flag draped over your shoulders with a sombrero on your head.. 

“A homecoming of sorts, Y/n L/n wins a third race under the lights of Las Vegas! 

Your fists were clenched as you shook them while your knees were bent. The while Elvis suit kind of glowed against the night sky. 

“L/n wins her fourth race of the season in Abu Dhabi. Ending a perfect rookie year on a high!” 

The crowds watch you get on your hands and knees before your car. Your hands outstretched in almost a mock bow to the machine. 

The scenes show the you hoisting up three more trophies, all while pointing to the sky after each one.  

The interviewer looked down at their questions, before glancing back up at the girl. 

“What was your worst race? One that you didn’t DNF.” 

The girl didn’t even hesitate. “Qatar.” 

“Why is that?” 

She shrugged. “I thought it would be cooler.” 

The screen goes black, but then changes to a very busy scene. People could see medical personelle holding onto a driver by their arms. Their legs all but dragged along the concrete. Lights flashed around as they brought her to a makeshift cot. Her helmet was ripped off along with the cloth under it. You gasped as you tried to catch your breath. Your cheeks were red and your hair matted with sweat. 

“I need an IV and cooling towels now!” 

“Her blood pressure is dropping, she’s going to pass out again.” 

“Hey, you need to stay awake. Do not close your eyes.” 

“Her breath is more shallow, she needs to cool down. Get buckets of ice and water.” 

It changes to a podium, but only two drivers are present. It was supposed to be a Papaya sandwich after Oscar had gotten his first actual race win. They looked worried and barely stayed for the celebrations. 

The cameras followed as the orange drivers as they ran to the Red Bull garage once the podium was finished. They expected to see you still unconscious, since that was the last they heard before the podium. Yet, they were surprised to see you upright and smiley. An IV was connected to your arm, but you were awake. 

Oscar ran, before wrapping his arms around you. 

“Do not do that again. I can’t believe that you kept racing.” 

You smiled up at him and Lando. 

“What can I say? I’m indestructible.” 

“She’s impressive.” A German voices his opinion now that he’s in the seats. “I don’t wish to say it, but I’m glad she’s at the different team. I don’t know if we would have been able to give her the car that she needed.” 

The interviewer looks a Toto for a moment, before continuing. “You think she’ll leave Red Bull at some point in her career?” 

The Mercedes Team Principal shakes his head. “No. She’s going to stay until she retires. I’m sure of it. But who am I to talk about staying with a team forever.” 

The scene changes to you and Max, both casually hanging out. You sighed as you looked down at your phone. Max quirked an eyebrow, but stayed silent, giving you the go ahead to spill. 

“They’re asking again if I’m going to be staying past 2026.” Your arms waved around before you huffed and they fell at your sides. 

The Dutchman rolled his eyes. “Are you wanting to stay past that?” 

You grinned at the older driver. “Can’t go anywhere when I have the best here.” 

The scene changes to the blond female Red Bull racer, back in the chair once again.

“Do you think you’ll ever move teams?” 

She shook her head. “No, I don’t think I will. It seems that every racer’s dream is to drive for the team in red, but not mine. I’ve always wanted to just race for the team that will get me places, and I think that Red Bull can stay on top for many years to come.” 

The interviewer continued. “What do you think you’ll do after Formula 1.” 

She smirked. 

“After, I want to collect. I’m thinking the triple crown. Probably go to endurance racing and then 1 year of Indy. I know I’ll be able to do it.” 

“If you could have your dream team for Le Mans, who would it be?” 

“Either Leclerc in addition to Max. I don’t think I could be anyone else’s teammate ever.” 

Clips of Charles, Arthur, Y/n, and Max showed on the screen. They might look like an odd bunch, but they worked somehow. Arthur had been promoted at the end of 2024 to actually drive for Porsche in the 2025 Qatar endurance race. Late in the editing, they were able to sneak in a clip of the four of you celebrating after he podiumed.  

“So, we heard that you and Max were able to sign new contracts at the end of 2024. How long are the both of you going to stay.” 

The girl thought for a moment, trying to think of how to word it correctly. 

“Well, we both have kind of open ended contracts like Charles signed in early 2024. Christian said that he’ll do his best to keep us there, but we aren’t bound. I plan to stay for a while and so does Max if they keep giving us good cars that can still dominate.” 

“Do you plan to break any more records? You sure had a lot in the past season as well as early years.” 

“How many do I have?” she asked. 

The interviewer counted. “Five.” 

She smirked for the final time for the episode. “Five? That’s hardly enough. Let’s make it interesting and get 6.”  

Everyone in the room laughed at her joke. 

The screen cut to black and the episode ended. Yet when the female racer retired, they went back and added one more thing. 

“Y/n L/n went on to be the most decorated racer of all time. She ended up breaking 22 records in the duration of her entire motorsport career, that no one has been able to touch since.” 

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[archiepelago]

alternate surface au inspired by a few ive seen around on tumblr :3

[rafeandonlyrafe]

proper thank you

words: 600

warnings: 18+ only!, stepbro!rafe, sending nudes, stepcest, kinda dumb/baby reader???

“carry me up to bed rafey?” you coo at your step brother, fluttering your lashes as your pout turns into a giggle when he sighs, unable to resist your pleading face.

“you're the most annoying little sis ever.” rafe says, calling you the nickname just to tease you as he leans down, scooping you into his arms. he carries you like you weigh nothing, so easily slotting into the good older stepbrother role when your parents married, despite him being only a few months older than you.

“thank you rafey.” you say sweetly as he walks you up the stairs, your arms holding him around the shoulders, head leaned against his broad chest.

“yeah, you gotta give me a better thank you than that.” rafe rolls his eyes as he carries you into your bedroom. only once the door is closed do you press a wet kiss to his cheek as a proper thank you.

rafe plops you down on the bed unceremoniously. “there ya go.” he waves as he walks away, knowing it's not actually goodnight as you let out a whine.

“tuck me in?”

rafe hides his smirk before turning around, putting on his slightly annoyed act like he always does when you ask him.

rafe pulls the fluffy blanket out from under you. it's slightly weighted so it naturally tucks around your body anyways as rafe covers you, but his hands still move slowly, feeling your body as he pushes in the blanket until you're stuck tight underneath it.

“anything else? want me to tell you a bedtime story?” rafe says it as a joke, but with the way your eyes light up, he finds himself sitting on the edge of your bed, recounting three little pigs from memory the best he can.

“alright, you gotta get to bed now.” rafe glances at the clock on your nightstand as the hour hand ticks closer to midnight. “goodnight.”

“goodnight rafey.” you smile softly before letting out a yawn. “ill give you a proper thank you soon.”

rafe isn't sure what you mean until he makes it back to his room, scrolling aimlessly through his phone until a text message appears from you.

he clicks it to open up the image, his eyes widening and dick swelling as he sees you in a silky nightgown, the swell of your breasts clearly visible, nipples poking through the fabric. he recognizes the nightgown from a few days ago, but you clearly got further undressed.

rafes eyes bulge as the next image loads, the same pose, now sans nightgown, tits bare and thighs clenched together to make a delicious looking v that rafe wants to dive into.

a proper thank you ;) reads your text, along with one last image, this time with your legs spread, smile on your face as your cunt is on clear display. you took the marker tool to add to your lower stomach “property of big brother.”

rafe is in your room untucking you from your bed before the clock reaches midnight.

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