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astonmartinii · 30 days

Text

it must be a sign | oscar piastri social media au

pairing: oscar piastri x fem deaf! red bull engineer!reader

when the two most unbothered people in the paddock combine their joint powers to be the it couple

request sent by the lovely @bibissparkles xx

author's note: heyyy so many of you won't know but i am actually deaf - i am 50% deaf in both ears and wear hearing aids so i love requests like this! (all i do most of this stuff as a deaf person, turning off your hearing aids >)

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri and 302,446 others

yourusername: you can't complain about the dutch national anthem when you can just turn your hearing aids off

view all comments

user1: the way max's engineer is as sick of that damn song as us

user2: turning off her hearing aids makes how bored she looks during podiums make sense

yourusername: it was a banger during the mercedes dominance but would it kill someone to play the australian anthem

danielricciardo: i knew you missed me

yourusername: sure, jan.

user3: her and max signing slay to each other will always be so personal to me

maxverstappen1: gonna pretend you didn't just say that

yourusername: boo hoo babe, you gotta lose something sometimes

user4: babe? are the flowers from max?

maxverstappen1: would rather choke on my own spit and fall into a pit of snakes, hope this helps ❤️

yourusername: rude! i wouldn't want flowers from you either :(

user5: i swear we get into this argument every weekend, i think people will still assume they're together until their married to other people

liamlawson30: stop using me as a messenger pigeon please and thank you

yourusername: but i thought red bull gave you wings?

liamlawson30: do not use a pr answer against me 🤨

yourusername: no comment

liamlawson30: choke.

yourusername: idk what's going on in the red bull junior academy but spit in helmut's coffee not mine

user6: y/n consistently giving all the red bull guys shit is my favourite thing ever

user7: the amount of times the sky broadcast has caught her waving them off or taking her hearing aids out lol

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 782,309 others

oscarpiastri: switched four tyres for two this weekend

view all comments

user11: you can't distract us with your slutty bike pics WHO THE FUCK IS THAT

landonorris: A WOMAN? A WOMAN? IS THAT A WOMAN OSCAR JACK PIASTRI?

oscarpiastri: yeah i'm pretty sure

landonorris: don't play smart with me buster - why was i not informed?

oscarpiastri: i don't ask to be informed of every time you get rejected in the instagram dms

landonorris: FAKE NEWS

oscarpiastri: okay buddy

user12: i be seeing the sign language book, oscar you are so real for that

user13: that's my king, i need a oscar and y/n link up in the paddock - my unbothered queens

user14: she's in the likes !!!!!!

logansargent: oh we've entered the soft launch phase i see

oscarpiastri: and what?

logansargent: someone is feeling defensive this morning, dude i won't tell i've already kept it a secret for so long

landonorris: HE KNOWS? DOES BEING YOUR TEAMMATE MEAN NOTHING?

oscarpiastri: he's my childhood best friend?

logansargent: there's levels to this game norris

landonorris: @oscarpiastri consider yourself UNDER SURVEILLANCE

oscarpiastri: okay girly

user15: oscar has the patience of a saint, the mystery gal may want to rethink it before having to deal with them all

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo and 381,044 others

yourusername: unrelaxed, unbothered, moisturised ✨

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user18: queen SHIT THAT AIN'T SHIT

user19: but this mystery man IS

maxverstappen1: yeah sorry about that... but at least boyfy has made his instagram debut?

yourusername: about time, he's too sexy to gatekeep

maxverstappen1: well i'm not going to agree out of respect for you

yourusername: so you don't think he's sexy? i might not be able to hear but HE CAN MAX BE NICE

maxverstappen1: first of all it's a text, second of all i've been way too nice to him

yourusername: he beat you in padel fair and square you're just SHIT AT IT ❤️

maxverstappen1: you know that's a sore subject WHY WOULD YOU BRING IT UP

user20: my queen was really like you wanna tell me to fuck off? oh here's my sexy boyfriend

user21: jos verstappen really didn't know who he was tangling with that gal may be chill but she doesn't take shit

user22: she's like a female version of oscar lol

user23: i knew there was a reason i liked her

this comment was liked by yourusername

danielricciardo: why am i left out of everything these days?

yourusername: snooze you lose

danielricciardo: I AM AWAKE REPLY TO MY TEXTS

danielricciardo: I JUST SAW YOU PUT YOUR PHONE ON DO NOT DISTURB

yourusername: protecting my peace

danielricciardo: i'm on to you buster

oscarpiastri

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 1,209,455 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: overjoyed to get my first (proper) win in formula one and even more overjoyed to have my amazing girlfriend (and even better engineer) up on the podium with me

view all comments

user27: so this was the special occasion?

user28: so this is why she said she wanted the australian national anthem over the dutch one?

user29: this is now my roman empire

yourusername: babe is so fucking good and i'm so fucking proud

oscarpiastri: i'm so glad to have been able to share this moment with you

yourusername: you deserve this and more, i love you

oscarpiastri: i love you too xx

user30: wait so oscar knows so much more sign language than i thought

user31: he looked so excited and even mark knows some

logansargent: he forced (we were happy to do so) me, mark and his family to learn as soon as he secured the date lol

oscarpiastri: and now we're all so cool because of it

logansargent: cool and able to chat shit without people knowing what we're saying

yourusername: best bit about it tbf (everyone please learn, it's a beautiful language)

landonorris: I KNEW IT

oscarpiastri: no you didn't

landonorris: no i didn't :( i'm hurt

oscarpiastri: if it's any consolation, we didn't tell many people, max and logan are exceptions

landonorris: WHY WAS I NOT AN EXCEPTION???

yourusername: boo hoo

landonorris: i'm not gonna say anything back to that you kinda scare me

yourusername: good ❤️

yourusername

liked by fernandoalo_oficial, oscarpiastri and 529,778 others

tagged: maxverstappen1 & oscarpiastri

yourusername: me and a racewinner (and our world champion third wheel)

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user32: fave trio in the paddock no competition

logansargent: logan erasure

yourusername: we love you logan, sunday roast at mine this weekend ❤️

logansargent: SCORE

user33: every time you post there's a new plushie

yourusername: we usually get one to commemorate a big weekend and we both got one for osc's first win

user34: that's so FUCKING CUTE

oscarpiastri: it's all fun and games until you don't fit in the bed because y/n feels too bad to put any of them on the floor

yourusername: they have FEELINGS OSCAR

oscarpiastri: she cried one time when max set off the smoke alarm cooking breakfast and the bed alarm shook so bad that all of them were thrown to the floor

yourusername: it was HARROWING but it also did wake me up so at least we know it works

maxverstappen1: actually my favourite couple to third wheel, but enjoy it while it's here osc, i won't lose again

yourusername: yeah sorry osc it's actually my job to help max win so you're gonna have to wait for him to retire if i have anything to do with it

oscarpiastri: not even for me :(

yourusername: sorry not sorry (i'm really sorry, i love you so much)

oscarpiastri: i love you too even if you won't sabotage max for my race :(

maxverstappen1: okay i know i said you guys are cute but that's enough for today

yourusername: we ARE cute thank you

oscarpiastri: the CUTEST

fin.

note: heheheheh i hope you enjoyed this, i love requests like this xx also on the comment about the bed alarm i had one in uni halls and when the alarm went off that baby SHOOK it was kinda scary

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 #f1 social media au #oscar piastri instagram au #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader

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vroomvroomwee · 9 months

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Crowley is Lucifer

(Ok I know some of you don't believe this theory but I highly suggest you give this a quick read anyway. I tried to make it short and easy and I'll be going chronologically, from s1 all through s2)

- First, let's get this out of the way, Lucifer and Satan aren't neccesarilly the same person. Even in the show the devil that appeared in s1 has only ever been reffered to as Satan, not even once as Lucifer.

- In the bible Lucifer was the one to tempt Eve with the apple, and who do we know that does that in the show. Crowley is literally THE snake from Eden.

- An obvious one perhaps, but the red hair is also a giveaway

- In the bible Jesus was tempted by the devil for 30 days, in the show Crowley says "I showed him all the kingdoms of the world", so that's another role Lucifer has that Crowley had in the show

- It's well known (even mentioned in the Sandman) that Lucifer was the most beautiful of all angels, and our demon is played by no other than David Tennant

Now on to season 2 because there's a LOT to unpack here

- He litterally started the engine of the universe which was one of Lucifers roles

- He's the first to say "let there be light", which is pretty fucking huge since that is Gods line

- "I worked closely with upstairs on it" even in the first scene they're telling us Crowley is an angel of very very high rank

- He fell for asking questions, which is litterally what Lucifer fell for, for questioning God. This in and of itself should be a pretty big indicator. "I only ever asked questions"

- Shax: "a miracle of enourmous power only the mightiest of archangels can perform"

Crowley: "How do you know I didn't do it"

And Shax just... doesn't counter that. She looks even skeptical, as if it COULD be a possibility, unlike Uriel who says to Aziraphale don't excpect us to believe you did it. Shax litterally doesn't shut the option down which confirms Crowley has the power not only of an archangel but of the mightiest kind

- In the bookshop with Gabriel/Jim he says "I don't remember. It [gravity] seemed like a good idea when we were all talking about it"

- "You're welcome to come in, you might even spot an archangel" don't tell me this was Crowley just egging Shax on and not being sneaky

- The fact that he could sense the demons coming. "Somethings wrong""It's coming in waves", when Aziraphale couldn't. It could be a demon thing but we saw Sandalphon, an archangel of lower rank, in the first season mention "something smells evil" so obviously angels can sense demons too, they just have to be powerful enough. And keep in mind Sandalphon was already in the book shop for quite some time, Crowley sensed them even before they had arrived (he also sensed the hell hound who was some fucking miles away)

- The.fucking.folder. "You have to be a throne or dominion above" and this dude opens these clasified documents like it's nothing. If this isn't an indicator of his high position as an angel I don't know what is.

- He's worked with Saraqael, another very high ranking angel

- "I'm the only first order archangel in the room"... and the camera imediately pans to Crowley, and for anyone who's read the book and watched the show you know that rarely anything is coincidental

- When the Metatron says they can't lose another prince of heaven. This... this fucking line. So it's relatively well known that Gabriel and Lucifer are brothers, and if Gabriel is one of the princes of heaven I wonder who the other one could be. "Two princes of heaven". And the Metatrons words were very careful, he doesn't say lost as in heaven can't find him, he says it in the context that they won't be sending Gabriel to hell since they won't lose another prince to downstairs

- In the bookshop when no one can identify the Metatron he turns to Crowley who imediately recognises him. Now you have this dude, who's literally on top of the angel hierarchy and is responsible for running heaven and the connection to God themself, surrounded by archangels and a principality you spoke to face to face with just a few years ago and... none of them can tell who you are, the only one who does is the literal demon. That tells us that Crowley has not only seen him in this form, but has probably worked with the Metaron himself personally. "Always asking damn fool questions", 10 million angels and he remembers what this one particular angel was like 6000 years ago

- Crowley is also very reluctant to reveal his identity as an angel. Now if he were just an ordinary angel of no real significance he wouldn't have a problem revealing his name, but... if his name was one that's the literal representation of all evil in this world, then it is understandable he keeps it a secret, in fear he might scare Aziraphale away

- And I wanted to leave the best for last. So you remember in the book when Crowley has to sign his name to start Armaggedon, and Hastur tells him "no, your real name" after which he reluctantly writes it. Now in the book we never see him write anything, but in the show we see him write a sygil, something that looks very mich like an L. An L... A FUCKING L. And now I wonder how this theory didn't come up sooner.

(Also he can fucking stop time, like dafuq)

Edit:

- "Oh looky here it's Lucifer and the guys" we all thought he was talking about someone else, he's just refferencing things other angels have said about HIM. FUCK

- I keep seing people saying Crowleys memories were wiped because he couldn't remember Saraqael and Furfur. But I think people forget, demons lie. He's lying to make them think he's not that angel they worked with, that he's not Lucifer. (In season 1 we hear him a few times refferencing his life as an angel, so he does remember most of it)

- Also saying if the Raphael theory were true then as showrunners they would have mentioned him somewhere for those not that familiar with the bible (or don't read much fanfiction). The refferences for Crowleys past are so so vague that it would be too sudden and confusing if he were Raphael. But there is one name that everyone is familiar with, no matter who you are how old you are or where you're from, a name that needs no introduction.

Edit 2:

- Back to him being the most beautiful angel, I don't think it was ever quite explained how every single demon when they're in hell looks... awful, but Crowley doesn't. Beelzebub has the spores all over their face, Hastur the maggots and the sh-, Dagon the scales etc. But Crowley doesn't, not even when he's in hell, he's always just so, well, pretty.

- I saw a few people asking about how Lucifer started the rebellion and Crowley wouldn't do that. I think it's the same Crowley who wouldn't get stuck in traffic after creating the M25, or the same Crowley that wanted to call Aziraphale after bringing down the entire London network, "you told them you invented the spanish inquisition, and started the second world war""so the humans beat me to it that's not my fault", "so all this is your demonic work?""no, the humans thought it up themselves nothing to do with me"

- Also I think Satan's in charge of hell not Crowley the same way the Metatron's in charge of heaven and not Gabriel (and who can very easily demote angels if he so wishes)

Edit 3:

- like some of you pointed out Lucifer is also known/means Light-bringer. And Crowley was the first to say "let there be light."

- The file he opens with Muriel is Gabriels file, a class A archangel, so if he knows the password to that it means that either he's on the same level as Gabriel, or above him.

#crowley is lucifer #goodomenss2 #crowley #goodomens #aziraphale #good omens #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #goodomenss2spoilers #good omens 2 #good omens season 2 #goodomens2 #goodomensspoilers #good omens spoilers #good omens s2 #good omens season two #good omens series 2 #good omens season 2 spoilers #good omens s2 spoilers

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queersunflowers · 1 year

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does ANYONE have a copy of Blythe Baird’s first book “Give me a God I can relate to” that they’re willing to sell me?

#Blythe Baird #poetry #poetry books #Give me a god i can relate to #poetry book #pr

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shurisneakers · 3 months

Text

unsolved (i)

Summary: Bucky doesn't even believe in the paranormal. So who the hell thought it was a good idea to stick him in a series about everything haunted for the internet's amusement? With his loose-canon of a teammate who has no concept of subtlety or any shits left to give, to make things even worse. (Buzzfeed unsolved AU)

Warnings: swearing, frustrated bucky at his little shit supreme, Very Loud reader, images and memes that all have alt texts.

A/N: yes this is literally harmless in a different font. do not ask me if anything doesn't make sense. i cannot explain. i resurface every 3 years to present you with ideas born from menty b's. ANYWAY shout out to my beloved ryan and shane. pls enjoy <3

Bucky doesn’t appeal to the youths.

Apparently.

On God, he cannot fathom why.

He had definitely left the house in the last six months, maybe. Smiled in at least two pictures that existed on the internet. He even knew what Discord was. Sort of.

By all accounts, he should be treated as the modern day icon that he was.

“The youths?” he repeats, the word so foreign on his tongue it felt odd to even say it.

“Your numbers are the lowest of the whole team.” The latest tech-dude, with a tablet twelve models ahead of the one Bucky had in his room, tells him monotonously. “Wilson, Romanoff and Barton score the highest. Everyone else lies around the middle. You are dead-last.”

Bucky has the audacity to look offended.

“Anything to say?” Their PR head, Maya, asks him, amused.

He stares, formulating the wittiest one liner he could in three seconds.

“I don’ care,” he mumbles.

Maya sighs. “Look, the team took the decision together. As far as I’m aware, you are still a member. You need some PR if you guys want to stay in the public’s good books.”

“No one’s gonna listen to me.” Bucky wasn’t exactly the poster child for American values. He couldn’t even vote until three years ago, and that came only after the full wrath of a Steve Rogers descended on the email inbox of the DMV.

“That’s why it’s important to get them to like you,” Maya emphasizes. “Or the idea of you at least. A very sanitized, corporate friendly version.”

His eyebrow twitches unintentionally.

“And also you signed the contract.”

Well. Shit.

Truth be told– and he has openly and rather loudly stated this on numerous occasions even especially when no one asked– he doesn’t understand why they need a PR team. The world has calmed down significantly over the last few years. Bucky hadn’t really been out crime-fighting as much as he was people-watching. There hasn’t been an earth-shatteringly dystopian-level event in the longest time, and there seemed to be a group of spandex-clad teenagers who seemed to do a good job at taking care of them when they did threaten to occur. Go kids.

Even if they needed PR, he could arguably understand the appeal of Sam and Nat and why the people would want to see more of them. Bucky, on the other hand, looked like he crawled onto Earth most days of the week.

“What do I have to do?” he asks ultimately, knowing there was no way to get out of this. “Interviews?”

The intern shares a look with Maya. Bucky shares a look with the ceiling.

“The team agreed to do a series of videos, each focusing on a different niche,” she begins, “Crash courses on science, pointing out mistakes in spy movies. Once a week.”

Bucky nods along. He can pinpoint Bruce and Nat for those.

Maya stares at him.

Bucky stares back.

“So,” she says slowly, like he’s a moron, “you would–”

“No.”

The intern sighs heavily like they discussed that this was going to happen. Bucky was getting predictable. This annoys him even further, for some reason.

“Only once a week, and it doesn’t have to be anything crazy–”

“I’m not doing videos,” he interjects. “I’ll tweet a few times. I’ll even go outside. But ’m not doin’ videos.”

A big step was to get the Avengers off Twitter after the regular shit-storm that occurs every time they’d quote-tweet another politician calling them shitheads. Getting them back on seems counterproductive.

“Fine,” Maya relents, looking at the intern. “We'll work something out.”

Bucky leans back in his chair, and meditating on ways he can weasel his way out of those too.

So they stick him in a couple of interviews.

Bucky, as the recluse extraordinaire that he was, does unsurprisingly terrible at them.

Variety does a piece on him that was supposed to take up 2 pages. They send back half a page worth of usable material and Bucky gets a lecture on how monosyllables don't count as answers.

He grunts in return. Maya’s itch to smack his shoulder with the rolled up draft increases.

They set him up for pap walks. Just him getting fast food for the team, or sitting in the park.

They don’t take into account that Bucky was trained professionally for years on how to hide, sneak in and out of places without a soul knowing he was ever there.

The paparazzi spend three hours waiting for him outside the pizza place, while he’s been home for two hours with two demolished pepperonis and an order of mozzarella sticks.

They give him access to his Twitter.

He tweets some dumb shit and gets shadow banned by that evening.

Maya is sick and tired, and the interns have shifted three times since the whole ordeal started. Bucky honestly feels a little bad. Maybe he should try to be like Scott, who not only wrote a book, finger-gunned at photographers, did an interview a week, but also agreed to a podcast and a video series about literally anything they suggested.

“Play nice,” Sam tells Bucky one evening.

It’s an off-hand comment, not even really looking at him while he says it.

Bucky doesn’t need to ask what he’s referring to, but he thinks that maybe he has gone too far.

He begrudgingly agrees.

Therefore, it begins.

They stick him in the background of a few videos. Just to interact, add his commentary on what was going on, suggestions.

Then the jokes really start.

“I just don’t got anything to add,” Bucky tries, in a failure of an attempt to justify his lack of contribution.

Maya only stares at him, but Bucky swears he can hear her curse quietly, even though her lips don’t move even a millimeter.

He is not put in another video.

And so he finds himself here.

In a meeting room that he’s convinced is barricaded from the outside so he can’t slither out the door again. Another intern with pink-tinted glasses that took up half their face.

Maya’s in the midst of explaining to him that sure, his numbers had gone up by a decimal, but that was because people had started editing him into the backgrounds of other pictures for other users to find in a perplexing take on Where’s Waldo.

“Videos seem to be working,” she ties it together. “But we need more than you just standing silently behind Captain Rogers.”

“But it’s working,” Bucky objects. “I don’t see why it has to change.”

Maya sends him a glare. Bucky decides then it’s good to shut up.

“Are you on the internet a significant amount?” the intern asks. The glasses on their face have changed colours to green. Bucky’s eyebrow furrows.

“No.”

For the next thirty minutes, he is subjected to a pop quiz about too many words ending with ‘core’, ‘coded’ and ‘eras’. He’s surprised that he knows what cottagecore is. He definitely doesn’t fucking know what a tomatogirl, nor does he want to.

“What do you like doing?” the intern enunciates, pulling up a spreadsheet of niches that had built a dedicated community around themselves over the years. “Makeup? Cleaning? Parkour?”

Bucky wonders if they’d really create a montage of him just micro cleaning the kitchen every week. It doesn’t sound half bad.

Beyond that, the only thing he can think of is woodworking, which Sam introduced him to. While he spends time creating little figures, he wouldn’t say it was–

“You really are dead silent,” the intern breaks his train of thought, tone almost that of wonder. “Guess the whole ‘ghost story for seventy years’ is more true than I thought.”

Bucky throws him a weary look, and works on unclenching the fist that tightened involuntarily.

“Was that necessary?” Maya’s voice comes coldly. “Take fifteen. Go find the other one we were supposed to meet.”

While sheepish and somewhat apologetic, the kid still looks relieved to be out of there. To be honest, Bucky isn’t really offended– he’s grown a thick skin over the years. But he also thought the guy was a little shit now.

Maya turns back to him, but Bucky finds that the table contains wonders far more interesting than the conversation at hand.

“Back to what we were talking about.” She ruffles through something on her laptop. “Puppets? History?”

He wordlessly shakes his head.

Been the former, seen too much of the latter.

Maya’s head tilts abruptly. “You like ghosts?”

He wonders if the prior conversation had anything to do with this insightful question.

Bucky shrugs. “Don’t exist.”

“Really,” Maya deadpans. “Aliens and multiversal baboons are fine, but no ghosts.”

“I’ve seen aliens and multiversal baboons. Never seen a ghost in my life,” Bucky argues right back.

“Other people have seen ghosts.”

“Good for other people.”

The door swings open right as Maya’s eyes narrow at him. Guess it wasn’t padlocked.

“Whatever it is you think I did, Maya, I didn’t. I think,” you announce in a volume too much for a closed room, stopping when you see Bucky sitting cross-armed and looking delightfully disgruntled. “Oh hey, Barnes. Fancy seeing you here.”

Bucky had met you. The newest addition to the team that had made a grand entrance a couple of weeks ago. He thinks you stay on the floor below him, but he has nothing backing this hypothesis other than the disco funk music that had started appearing at odd hours of the night.

“Please sit,” Maya cracks a smile at you that Bucky had yet to earn. “Sorry, I know our meeting is scheduled for later, but I figured we could kill two birds with one stone.”

You look between her and Bucky, who hasn’t moved an inch since you got here, much less even said hello.

“You must be really bad if Maya had to call me in,” you tell him outright. “I’m usually like, her last option.”

“Thanks,” Bucky replies dryly.

“Look, here’s my final pitch.” Maya sighs, before turning to you. “You’re new, and we need something to introduce you slowly to the public.”

“Oh, am I finally getting hard launched?” You grin, and Bucky doesn’t know what that means. “Just imagine me kicking my feet, giggling or whatever.”

“And he needs… an upgrade.” Maya’s thumb juts out towards Bucky who simply rolls his eyes.

“Right.” Your sight lands on him from across the table. “I’ve seen the memes.”

“What memes?” he grunts, because while the team had definitely seen them, it didn't occur to anyone they should show it to him. He loves them. Really. So much. Die for them.

You only look too happy to pull out your phone and start typing.

“Do you know what skinwalkers are?”

“No.”

“That’s what they say you look like, lurking in the back of all your friends’ videos,” you continue, swerving around your phone to show him.

Bucky doesn’t look impressed. He can’t say he blames them either, which makes him inexplicably maddens him.

“At least they’re calling you their boyfriend,” you add, entirely unhelpfully. “That’s gotta count.”

“Right.” Maya clears her throat. “The both of you–”

“Are getting paired together, I suppose,” you hum.

Bucky’s eyebrows pull together.

He barely knows you. Just a little bit on how you ended up here, that you enjoyed hanging out with the team, figuring out your place in the compound, and were seemingly doing a great job at it.

You were… loud. And open.

Bucky feels the compulsive need to compensate for that by doubling down on how silent he could get, as if the two of you couldn’t co-exist in the same space in equilibrium.

Maya pointedly raises a finger at you. “Do you believe in ghosts?”

“For the right price, I will believe in whatever you tell me to.”

Her face lights up brighter than Bucky's ever seen.

“Great.” Maya slams her laptop closed. “See you later.”

Bucky’s left staring as she exits, not even throwing the both of you another look.

“That was quick,” your voice cuts through the silence. “What was that all about?”

“Don’ ask me,” he grumbles, with a sinking feeling that he knew exactly what was about to follow.

“Ghost hunting?” Bucky echoes a week later, as expected.

“Yes,” Maya tells him simply. “Two of you. A series based on paranormal activity.”

“I don’t even believe in them,” he reiterates.

“That’s the point,” she emphasises. “Skeptic and believer. It makes for a good contrast.”

“Why us both?” He hopes it doesn’t come off as offensive. He just doesn’t see why he can’t do this with Sam. Even Clint, if a gun was really pressed to his head.

“I’m new, no one gives a shit about me,” you say brightly and full of promise. “Yet.”

“Exactly. It’ll be low key. Not an overwhelming number of viewers, no expectations. It’s perfect for launching one Avenger and re-launching another.”

“Sounds rad.” You grin, leaning back as your feet rest on the chair in front of you.

Maya looks relieved for a moment that at least one of you was on board. “No promises on anything. We shoot one video, and if it does well, we stick with it.”

“What if I don’t want to?” Bucky argues.

“Then you have until tomorrow morning to give us another feasible idea,” Maya dishes back.

Bucky retreats into his seat, arms crossed over his chest.

Truth be told, he considered himself to be the most boring person in the team and though he had made his peace with that, he was sure thar bringing that up now would entail Maya shooting him in the foot.

“Fine,” he agrees and the sighs around the room are loud.

He scoffs. So fucking dramatic and for what.

“Put her there, partner.” You stretch ungracefully over the large table, sticking out your hand.

Bucky eyes your hand. “Do you even believe in ghosts?”

“I do now, yeah.” You nod seriously. “Love ‘em. Can’t get enough of them.”

“One video,” Maya reminds him as a balm. “And if it doesn’t work, you’re off the hook forever.”

Off the hook? Forever? For Bucky?

Yay.

“One video,” he reiterates.

You roll your eyes before smiling when he leans forward to grab it. You yank it up and down clunkily. He blinks at you, letting go slowly.

“Thank fuck,” Maya groans, head dropping onto the table.

Your smile is wild. “Guess we’re doing this shit together.”

He doesn’t even have to look very deep in his soul. He already knows he’s going to suffer.

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing!

to keep up with updates for this fic and others, please follow @shurisneakersupdates and turn on post notifications!

also i'd absolutely love to make this a community led fic like how harmless was! if you have memes or any paranormal ideas or just any prompts in general, please please send them my way <3

Next part

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #unsolved fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

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jeanbie · 2 months

Text

IF I LAY HERE (WOULD YOU LIE WITH ME?) ★ masterlist.

pairing: eren x reader

genre: best friends-to-lovers-au, actor au, fluff mostly | warnings: fem!reader | wc: 2.6k

note: hey. i still love u guys and i am still pining over aot. will never stop probably. anyway, this was an older fic i wrote but i'm handing it down to eren! title is taken/inspired from chasing cars by snow patrol (my fav song)

⏤ Eren has had enough - it's been four months since he's last seen you, and he's not going to let his fame status keep him from seeing you any longer. He just hopes that you feel the same way when you see him again.

Eren was taking a pretty big risk, he knew that.

It was risky taking any step out of his apartment at any moment; he’d think he was safe until he made it to the end of the road, earphones snug in his ears, and the flash of a camera behind the bushes in the corner of his eye blinds him back to his front door in a twisted shame.

Granted, he’d expected it to be worse now that he'd booked a plane ticket and made a rather hasty, in-the-moment journey to the airport and on a plane with no layover. Usually when Eren takes a journey overseas, there’s at least one or two fans hiding in the corner of the suites waiting for him, or someone on the plane who’d recognise his face.

For this, he’d suck it up and take a photo. It was better to have good PR and be a little bit pissed off that he’d been discovered, than to have bad PR and to be known as the actor from Attack on Titan who didn’t give a damn about the people who essentially made him and his friends famous.

But Eren thought the risk was worth it this time. The plane touched down in a different country, and from there, it was an hour long train journey to a station he didn’t know anything about to meet a friend of yours he’d only seen in Instagram pictures.

You were at university now, a face he saw on a screen rather than a face he quite literally saw every day months before. It had been four months since Eren had seen his best friend, and fuck anybody who was going to make him wait a second longer before seeing you again.

You were his greatest risk, but it was worth it. You were worth it.

“Fuck, it’s insane to actually be meeting you right now.”

Frank is a good guy, ginger with circle glasses resting on the end of his roundish nose. He led Eren out of the train station, offering to pull his suitcase for him. “I mean, I’m a huge fan.” Followed by a sigh and a quiet, “Who isn’t…?”

Eren smiled at him, squinting in the sun as it hit his eyes in the direction of Frank’s face. “Thanks. I hear a lot about you, too.”

Frank grinned, whipping his head towards Eren. “All sexy and scandalous things, I hope. You know, none of us believed Y/N when she said she knew you. We thought the pictures were Photoshopped, you know how she is.” They both paused by the side of the road waiting to cross, “Shit, she’s gonna freak out when she sees you.”

That was three minutes ago, but Eren's still playing that sentence on a loop in his head. She's gonna freak out when she sees you.

He walks alongside Frank down one of the streets, past a redundant furniture store that quirks his brows. He’s missed it here, and how unbelievably, shockingly awful it all looks when you’re not looking at picturesque photos of it online.

“I thought you’d know that Y/N’s my best friend,” Eren says thoughtfully. He pauses as Frank does as a car zooms past when they’re about to cross. “I mean, people know. The photos got leaked, all of them.”

“Hey, give me a break,” Frank says dramatically. “I only really became a super fan three months ago. I'm more into Levi, you know how it goes. And yeah, I figured it out eventually. Finally, I understood why so many people at this uni wanted photographs with her and to be her best friend…”

Eren frowns. “Is it bad? She doesn’t tell me this stuff on the phone. I mean, they go crazy online when she posts pictures and we interact, but I didn’t…”

Frank shakes his head and grins at Eren as the words die out in his mouth.

“Nah, don’t panic. It’s not that bad. If anything, she might get a kick out of the fame. Trust, there’s always gonna be the girls who hate her because she’s friends with you and that’s like, what, threatening to their fantasy? But she loves you a lot, and a friendship like yours…it’s kinda like family, you know?”

Eren feels his stomach flip, butterflies going haywire. These butterflies are bitter and relentlessly fast, his heart racing that extra bit quicker. He likes the sound of family. He doesn’t like the way Frank implies it, because if Eren is ever going to consider you as family, it won’t be as his sister.

You’ve never been his sister, even when you became part of his family growing up on special occasions, or even just on a daily basis when you came to visit. There were times his family called you their own, but you were never his sister. It was different than that; you both knew it but never dared acknowledge it.

Frank makes small talk until they make it to the student accomodation you currently live at, and because Frank knows basically everybody, a student comes to the gate to let them both in. They’re nice and tall, wearing an Aston Villa shirt that Eren remembers looks a lot like your dad’s back in the day. Might be the same kind, might be a vintage.

He smiles at him, because maybe this guy knows Eren, but then the guy just turns back into the common room and doesn’t come out again. Frank doesn’t live here - he lives in a flat of his own around the corner, but Frank might as well be a resident here. He lets himself in towards the lift and shoots a text to one of your flatmates.

“Apparently she’s in the shower,” Frank says casually. He locks his phone, taps his foot as the lift rises, “Let’s hope she doesn’t stride out completely stark naked as you’re in there.”

He almost blushes, “Ha, yeah.”

He declines to mention the times you two have showered together, the time you went skinny dipping together when you were seventeen. Those were things that might end up getting misunderstood, and those are his memories he’d like to keep a secret. He says nothing, nothing but a thank you when he enters your flat with Frank and takes a different turn to the left whereas Frank goes right, towards the kitchen.

Your room is at the very end, your name on the door in stickers from a set you got from the market, and from inside, he hears the music in the bathroom. The door opens silently and closes with the same volume, and Eren manages to wheel his suitcase to the end of the bed and plonks himself down.

As expected from pixels on the screen, your room looks better in person - white walls and a bed set that’s white and covered with little peonies. Above your desk, Eren recognises all your photos together, new polaroids of you and the friends you’ve made at university who Eren always felt kind of threatened by. He smiles to himself, and rests his head against the wall your bed is attached to. From here, he can see the bathroom door in the mirror on the opposite wall, but he knows you’ll only see his feet when you come out.

Speaking of which; the song playing in the bathroom ends suddenly and the shower water has stopped running. Eren hears the toilet flush and his heart starts to race.

Four months of falling asleep on Facetime and texting when there was no time left in the day, and now, here he is, on your bed, waiting for you to step out and… And, then what?

Maybe you wouldn't even want him here. Maybe you were happier now that Eren was travelling the world with his other friends and film crew while you were still here, in a new city with new friends and a new life. Maybe the memory of Eren was burdensome to you. Worse - maybe he was something you felt you had to remember but didn’t really want to.

Eren's always been scared of the rejection he might receive from you. He might be a dream for fans across the world, but there’s a split second where Eren feels like he might not be good enough for you. He’s the world to other people. But you deserve the whole galaxy, and he’s afraid that’s something that he might not ever be able to give you, even with all the money and the fame.

The bathroom door opens and in two seconds, the light is shut off and he hears you sigh.

“Jesus, Frank, you gotta stop letting yourself in here without telling me,” your voice says. “Good thing I’m semi-decent. Usually I’m not.”

“No fun,” Eren teases, and silence follows. There’s a pause, and Eren cocks his head, his left cheek on his shoulder, waiting for you to click and appear in front of him.

Suddenly, he hears small but quick thuds across the carpet and Eren feels his chest tighten with a nostalgic feeling when you come into view with wide eyes, damp hair and nothing but a bra and those stupid black worn leggings you refuse to throw out.

The grin that reaches Eren's eyes now aches as he laughs at you, at the way you gape at his presence. It takes a moment, a moment of what feels like could be the rejection that Eren absolutely fears, but then you smile so wide that Eren feels it in his stomach.

“Holy shit!” you exclaim loudly, bringing a hand to your mouth as you hurry towards the bed. It dips beneath your knees and Eren rises up to a more comfortable position. “What the fuck!”

He laughs out loud, and when Eren wastes zero time in bringing you into his arms, hugging you tightly.

“Careful, my hair’s all wet,” you squeak.

“Don’t care.”

He really doesn’t. There’s probably going to be a damp spot on his clothes after, but that’s okay. You groan loudly with happiness as you hug him in return as tightly as he is hugging you, your weight on his lap and your arms around his neck.

Eren smiles so wide, sighing with content into your neck. Here, he smells the marshmallow body wash on your skin, the fragrance of your hair that kind of reminds him of Cabbage Patch babies.

“You smell good,” he mutters. You laugh quietly, squirming when his nose sniffs across your neck like one would kiss. “I don’t.”

“You do, you always smell good,” you reply. One sniff, he laughs, “See!”

“Mmm,” he plays along, “the sweet smell of planes and trains and jet lag.”

That makes you laugh, and at the mention of jet lag, Eren realises he could probably fall asleep like this given the chance. He has missed this, missed you, so fucking much. The emotions are overwhelming.

Eren kisses behind your earlobe, and then just underneath your jaw. That’s new. Eren was always a cheek-kiss kind of best friend, but never this.

You’re not complaining. Your head drops to one side, almost giving him more access to the space free, and he occupies it. Those fucking butterflies; Eren feels sick with nerves as he kisses you, under your chin and across your neck, on that spot on your collarbone you found out tickled after Seven Minutes in Heaven in Year 8.

Maybe your fingernails in his hair are a way of you telling him to stop - it’s something he can think about tonight if he can’t fall asleep, something he doesn’t care to think about when he kisses on your actual jawline, to your cheek and the corner of your mouth, your cupid’s bow.

He moves away with a blush that matches your own, but maybe you can’t see his in the colour of your fairy lights. He plays with the dazed confusion on your face as he moves the hair from across your face to around your ears, smiling and raising his eyebrows.

“Your hair is so fucking wet,” he sniggers boyishly.

“I told you,” you shrug. You shrink, relaxed, “Fuck, why are you here? I mean, I’m literally so happy, but… Are you gonna get in trouble for this?”

“I dunno,” he admits. “Maybe, probably. I mean…the guys know I’m here. Jean drove me to the airport with Armin.”

“That’s not what I mean, though.”

Eren sighs loudly. “Yeah, I know. Frank told me all about the girls.”

“Little fucker. Is he here? I’ll punch him for mentioning it to you. It’s honestly fine. It's only a few. Most are really nice!”

“You’re my best friend for life, it’s important to me that you’re not uncomfortable by--”

“I’m not,” you assure him, hands trapped in his hair. You frown and try to change the subject, “Damn, this got long. Didn’t look long over the phone.”

“I've been growing it out,” Eren replies. “Heard you fancied Keanu Reeves, couldn’t handle the competition.”

“Ha!” you retort. “Simp.”

“For you,” frowns Eren dramatically.

Conversation fizzles comfortably, to the point where you both forget that Eren's underneath you and your legs are wrapped like a koala around his middle.

The fact that this is normality for you both is ignored. You’ve done worse things together. Eren even knows that the bra you’re wearing now is one he bought for you, half as a joke, half not. That could be why Eren feels the way that he does, why the confusion wraps around his body and traps him.

Eren knows that the butterflies in his stomach don’t just appear because you’re his best friend he hasn’t seen in a while. He knows what they mean when they flutter when your name pops up when you’re calling him, when an interviewer tries to catch him out by bringing you up in another interview that you don’t need to be mentioned in.

Eren knows that coming here was worth the confusion, and the nerves, and the fact that this will be a headline when it gets out. EREN YEAGER GOES TO VISIT HIS BEST FRIEND…BUT ARE THEY MORE? Or worse, NETIZENS HAVE PROOF THAT A.O.T EREN IS DATING HIS BEST FRIEND Y/N…

He doesn’t want to hurt you. That’s why he feels scared. For you to be scandalised by an article online that caught him out in his feelings, he knew it wasn’t fair. Eren might be too afraid to say he’s in love, and too afraid to find out if you feel it too, if all those years of confused relations and flirtations meant anything, but he’d risk those feelings and the headlines if it meant being able to spend one more day with you.

Eren's got a week and a half with you. Something’s gotta give within this week. He doesn’t want to go back to filming with more regrets than he came here with, and so for now, he’ll just have to swallow those butterflies back down when they pour out of his mouth.

Right now, he can’t afford to be caught out. It has to be said on his own terms, when the timing is perfect. It has to be perfect, because it’s what you deserve. It has to be perfect, because if it isn’t, then Eren doesn’t think it will be worth it.

Losing you to a headline and a butterfly is out of the question. You hop off him and shrug on a jumper from out of your wardrobe. If you noticed his unease, then you didn’t mention it. He almost wants to cry, wants the confusion to go away for the night so he can enjoy being here.

Fuck.

For now, he thinks as he follows you with an arm around your shoulders out of your bedroom and towards the kitchen to meet the others, he’ll just have to fake it 'til he makes it. Just like always. Put on a face, put on a show, until it all feels worth the spillage. He can’t let the butterflies escape yet.

It has to be perfect, and until then, he’ll just have to be patient, even if it breaks his heart more by pretending.

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granaidh · 5 months

Note

<3 I’ve always been a fan of a Cinderella Story’s plot of being friends through the written word and falling in love with the person for who they are vs what they look like. Maybe a romance with Lando, Max or Charles where PR convinced them that it would be a good idea to have a penpal via Skype/Email/letter/burner phone. Neither individual knows anything about the other and they slowly fall in love? Max would be the funniest simply because it seems so out of norm but I bet he’s a closet romantic.

The other idea is the soulmate au! With the first words your soulmate would say to you written on your skin. “So you drive around in circles and go zoom zoom?” Would be so funny 😂

pen pals — max verstappen

pairing: max verstappen x fem!reader

summary: max's PR team decide to give him a softer edge through embarking on a journey with a pen pal.

warnings: idiots in love

a/n: this one is rushed because i have a super busy weekend but I'm still happy with how it turned out

Max lounged in his loft, staring at the email from his publicist. The words blurred together as he read the sentence for the umpteenth time: "We’ve got an idea that could spice up your image—a pen pal." He chuckled, shaking his head at the sheer randomness of the suggestion. His publicist, always one for unconventional ideas, had outdone herself this time.

With a shrug, Max leaned back and started typing.

Subject: The Chronicles of the Mysterious Pen Pal

Hey there,

Max here, intrigued and slightly amused at the prospect of embarking on a pen pal adventure. So, mystery person, I'm guessing you've been assigned the enigmatic role of my secret confidant. Congratulations! You're in for a wild ride.

Let's kick things off with some fun facts: I have an uncanny talent for geography and an insatiable love for terrible jokes. I also have a knack for finding the best hole-in-the-wall eateries in any city. Trust me, it's a talent.

Now it’s your turn! What's your story? Any quirks or hidden talents? Feel free to spill the beans; I promise not to judge.

Looking forward to unravelling this mysterious exchange,

Max

With a smirk, he hit send, half-expecting this whole pen pal thing to fizzle out into nothingness. But days later, a response popped up in his inbox, sparking his curiosity.

Subject: Re: The Chronicles of the Mysterious Pen Pal

Hey Max,

Well, I guess I've been unwittingly cast in the role of your mysterious pen pal. I must say, your introduction brought a smile to my face.

As for me, I'm a sucker for old bookstores and late-night stargazing. My days are a chaotic blend of work deadlines and spontaneous coffee runs. Oh, and I might have a legendary cookie recipe up my sleeve.

Your terrible jokes definitely add to the enigma. Let's see where this clandestine exchange takes us.

Till the next email,

Max found himself eagerly responding, a grin tugging at his lips as he divulged tales of his recent escapades and shared snippets of his life beyond the glitz and glamour of his public persona.

What started as an unconventional PR stunt soon evolved into something more profound. Their messages became a lifeline in the chaos, a sanctuary where they shared their dreams, fears, and the intricacies of their worlds. Max found himself confiding in this unseen confidant in ways he hadn't with anyone else, even Daniel.

Months passed, marked by a trail of emails filled with laughter, advice, and genuine connection. The initial mystery behind the screen had dissolved, revealing a person with whom Max felt an inexplicable bond.

He eagerly awaited each following message, each a beacon of light in his otherwise bustling life. There was a comfort in their conversations, a familiarity that made him feel understood in a way he hadn't before.

The exchange of emails between Max and his mystery pen pal continued to blossom. They shared stories of childhood memories, favourite books, and dreams that kept them awake at night. Max found himself drawn to the depth of their conversations, the way his mystery pen pal seemed to unravel parts of themselves with each email.

Subject: Taking a Leap Beyond the Screen

Dear Mystery Adventurer,

There’s something I’ve been pondering lately, something that feels like the next step in our digital escapade. How about taking this beyond the confines of our trusty emails?

Here’s an idea: what if we exchanged numbers? I know it’s a bit nerve-wracking, but think about the thrill of hearing each other's voices without the filter of text. Consider it an adventure in itself.

I’ll eagerly await your response, perhaps with a hint of nervous anticipation.

Curiously yours,

Max

Max nervously hit send, hoping he hadn’t overstepped. But within moments, a response popped up in his inbox.

Subject: Re: Taking a Leap Beyond the Screen

Max,

I couldn’t agree more. While the prospect of hearing your voice feels like a leap into uncharted territory— it’s one I’m willing to take. So, here’s my number. Let’s embark on this new adventure, shall we?

Anticipating the sound of your voice,

The phone rang twice before a warm and inviting voice greeted Max on the other end. He felt a rush of nervous excitement as he answered.

"Hello?" Max said, trying to sound calm despite the butterflies in his stomach.

"Hi, it's me," came the voice, and Max's heart skipped a beat at the familiarity of it. "I can't believe we're actually doing this."

"Neither can I," Max chuckled, feeling a wave of relief at the ease of the conversation.

There was a brief pause, the silence filled with anticipation.

"You know," the voice continued, "your accent is even more charming over the phone. It's like listening to a familiar melody."

Max felt a rush of warmth at the compliment. "Well, your voice... it's like a soothing symphony. Beautiful yet wonderfully new."

They laughed, the tension dissipating with every shared chuckle. The conversation flowed seamlessly as they exchanged anecdotes and shared their thoughts, from favourite books to travel adventures.

"You’ve got this way of making the ordinary sound extraordinary," Max admitted, feeling more at ease with every passing minute.

"And you have a knack for making me smile, even through a phone call," the voice replied, and Max couldn’t help but smile too.

Their conversation lingered, each word feeling like a step closer in their blossoming connection. Speaking in even further detail about their days. As the call drew to an end, there was a shared reluctance to hang up.

"Well, until our next conversation," Max said, a hint of shyness in his voice.

"Looking forward to it," the voice replied, a touch of excitement evident.

Max ended the call with a smile on his face, feeling a newfound sense of exhilaration and warmth from their first conversation—a moment that marked the beginning of something undeniably special between them.

Subject: Revelations Beyond the Screen

Hey,

I hope it’s not too forward to say this, but hearing your voice feels like a revelation. Your laughter is infectious, and it’s like your words carry a world of stories within them.

I have to admit, your accent adds a certain charm to everything you say. It’s like listening to a familiar sound in a foreign country.

I’m curious, though. What was your first impression upon hearing my voice?

On a completely unrelated note, I’ve been pondering the idea of inviting my mystery pen pal to a certain Grand Prix race looming on the horizon. Interested in witnessing the chaos firsthand? I promise it’s much more exhilarating than my ramblings.

Eagerly awaiting your thoughts,

Max

Max nervously hit send, hoping he hadn’t been too forward in his compliments. He anxiously awaited the response, his heart pounding in anticipation.

Subject: Re: Revelations Beyond the Screen

Max,

Your words never fail to bring a smile to my face. Your voice? It’s captivating, to say the least. There’s an easiness in the way you speak as if every word carries a hidden depth.

And your accent? It’s like a warm embrace; it feels like discovering a treasure hidden in plain sight.

Honestly, hearing your voice has only deepened the intrigue I feel for you. It’s like getting to know a familiar stranger, and I can’t wait to unravel more layers.

Admiring your voice from afar,

Once again on the phone, they fell into conversation effortlessly, the words flowing as if they'd known each other for years. Laughter mingled with shared stories, creating a symphony of connection over the phone lines.

And then, in a moment of raw honesty, Max broached the topic that had been on his mind.

"You know, I mentioned the Grand Prix race in my last email. I was wondering if you’d consider coming. It would be incredible to have you there, to share that part of my world with you."

There was a pause on the other end, a pregnant silence that seemed to stretch for eternity.

"I’d love to," came the response, filled with a mix of excitement and nervousness. "I mean, I’d be honored to be there."

Max’s heart soared. The invitation had been accepted, and he couldn’t wait to introduce his mystery pen pal to the whirlwind world of Formula 1 to show them a glimpse of the life he led beyond the screen.

The airport buzzed with the chaotic rhythm of arrivals and departures. Max stood at the gate, fidgeting with nervous energy, his gaze fixated on the stream of passengers emerging from the arrival area.

And then, amid the throng of travellers, he spotted her—her presence seemed to illuminate the bustling terminal. It was her, the person behind the digital words, the mystery pen pal he had grown to care for deeply.

Their eyes met across the distance, and everything around them faded. The moment stretched, time-bending as if unwilling to rush their first in-person encounter.

She approached, her steps hesitant yet purposeful. Max’s heart raced as he saw her smile widen, a mirrored reflection of his own. As she drew closer, he couldn’t help but marvel at how her eyes sparkled with excitement and nervousness.

There was an unspoken understanding between them, a familiarity that defied the fact that this was their first physical meeting. As she reached him, Max felt a surge of emotion, a rush of feelings he couldn’t quite articulate.

Without a second thought, he closed the remaining distance, wrapping her in a hug that felt like the culmination of a thousand unspoken emotions. She melted into his embrace, her arms encircling him in return.

Their hug spoke volumes—months of written words and unexpressed emotions culminating in this singular moment of connection. Max felt her laughter reverberate against him, the sound echoing through the crowded terminal.

"Hey," Max managed, his voice laced with a mix of relief and exhilaration.

"Hey yourself," she replied, a hint of laughter dancing in her words.

They held onto each other, reluctant to break the embrace. It was a feeling of comfort, of finding solace in the arms of someone who had been a constant in their lives despite the physical distance.

Finally pulling back slightly, they stood face to face, their eyes communicating a myriad of emotions—excitement, gratitude, and a silent acknowledgment of the significance of this moment.

"You’re real," Max said, almost in disbelief, earning a chuckle from her.

"And so are you," she replied, her voice tinged with happiness.

They stood there amidst the bustling airport, enveloped in a moment that seemed suspended in time—a moment that marked the beginning of their shared journey beyond digital conversations.

As they navigated through the airport, Max couldn’t shake off the feeling that this was just the start of an adventure—one filled with laughter, shared experiences, and the joy of discovering each other in a world beyond screens and keyboards.

#max verstappen #formula one #f1 #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen fic #max verstappen one shot #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot

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goldsbitch · 17 days

Text

Just don't talk---------

-and listen too.

p11 to Just don't talk

summary: Enemies to lovers on steroids. It's time to talk. Taking a spin on the whole fake dating.

mentions of Olivia Rodrigo lyrics - all rights belong to the respectable owners.

warnings: unprotected sex, squirting, minors DNI

"I WAS HALF MYSELF WITHOUT YOU, NOW I FEEL SO COMPLETE AND IF I'M NOT IN LOVE WITH YOU, YOU'RE NOT IN LOVE WITH ME!!!"

"You know those are not the actual lyrics, right?"

"WHATEVER!"

For a moment if felt nice to think she "pulled" someone like Lando. Bittersweet afterthought came just a second later.

Y/N did not go to the bathroom, in fact she sprinted over back to her hotel, sunglasses on and trying to avoid anyone stopping her. It must have been a record time in which she got back. Phone on silent do-not-disturb mode, apart from one one her best friends, back from her home town. Actively ignoring any resposibilities she was to attend to. Let her bloody PR team handle that for once. She could also be a diva for once. Always playing by their books, someone else's rules and thinking twice before opening any doors. Fuck that now.

She told her everything - only the best of friends give up their sleep for the heartbreak of others. Time zones were playing against them.

There they were, screaming Olivia Rodrigo lyrics out loud as if there was no tomorrow.

It felt good to get out of her system - she realized that she did not properly tell anyone, with all the feelings and complications involved in her recent fling with a racing driver. Fling. That's all it was ever to be.

The two screamed, danced and sang. One in a hotel room, the other in her own flat shared with a partner. Y/N was just a little bit jealous.

Lando stayed with the rest of the attendees of that forsaken meeting in silence, while they waited for Y/N to rejoin. As silence goes, this was one for the history books. He texted he few times, without any response. While he was worried, he had to get his own head in check first. When she did not return in about twenty minutes, they inevitably dissolved that meeting without rescheduling. But, since this gave Lando some time to think, he took a copy of the contract with him, cancelled all of the engagements of the day and immediately scheduled a call with his lawyers. He paid them enough for them to be available within thirty minutes.

He disclosed with them their situation fully - leaving out only the explicit details. Lando's lawyers have seen some thing with him over the years, this was a first one. As he did many times, he danced around the fact that he started to crush on this girl, which was making the whole conversation harder than needed. But, his team quickly came up with a clause to add should they go though with this - Recognition of Potential Emotional Development. It was all a bit bizarre, but Lando changed his mind from the initial shock he got. They were wrapped up in their own game anyway. He was getting weirdly excited by this.

Y/N ended their Facetime little party after an hour and kept herself locked up in the hotel room. No point in joining her team back for the rest of the day. It was all a little too much and far removed from racing - it was getting annoying. She was determined to get her emotion in check for the following days. It involved room service, some angsty tv show and phone on silent mode. So naturally, she missed Lando's text announcing that he is on his way to her room.

It felt like a strange deja vu. A knock on the door. He was the first one to cross her mind, like an intrusive thought you can't get rid off. She wanted it to be him knocking. And it was.

He let out a big sigh as he saw her open the door.

"Do you always ignore your phone when it matters the most?" he asked, fairly tired after the strange day they'd had.

She refused to answer his comment, simply stepped away to let him pass in her room.

"I was worried about you, you know?" he asked, not letting go as easily as she'd like to.

"Had to get out and clear my head. I'm not obligated to answer any calls or texts," she said in her defense, feeling like she was pushed into a corner.

Another sigh left Lando's lips. "Y/N, let's not go back this again. It's been a little mental for both of us, but we can't let it rule our life."

Was this when he was going to tell her that they should end their "whatever-this-is" affair? Y/N was getting mad - he could have at least wait after the race. There'd be a two week break where she could process all of this.

"Do we really need to do this now?" she asked, giving up on all hope.

Lando was firm on his stance, no more dancing around. "Yes, we do."

"Alright, let me get dressed," as it felt strange to talk like that only in her pyjama. Normally, Lando would drop a comment on how he did not want to hear these types of sentences ever again.

"Great, I'll wait in there," he said, pointing to the living room part of the suite.

The pseudo formal feeling Lando brought with him went out of the window pretty soon. He was nervous beyond belief and her overly-panicky mind was already five steps ahead, overcoming their relation before it even ended.

"So, Norris. What brings you here at this hour?" she asked with a hint sarcasm.

He chucked and observed for a moment, recalculating the angle from which to untangle this. In front of him sat slightly disheveled girl, someone who he wanted to know everything about. It seemed like she deliberately did not join him at the couch and opted for a chair nearby.

"It's been a little crazy lately."

"When was it not?"

"Touché, you're right."

He recalled something his mom used to tell him - it usually only takes 30 seconds to be brave, the rest is dealing with the aftermath.

"I've been thinking," he said and only then has Y/N noticed a folder with the devil contract which got her blood raging once again.

"A unique event, yes," she commented dryly.

"Come on. Stop it. I've thought about it and spoke to my lawyers."

"You did what?!"

"Hear me out, you muppet," another sigh and gestured to her to calm down before getting a wrong idea. "I think our little game of cat and mouse has gotten out of hand. I don't think we can go on like this before it blows up in our faces. It's better to control the narrative."

She shifted in her chair, sitting a little too far away from him on the couch. It felt uncomfortable. "So you want to end it?"

Lando was taken back. "Obviously not? Do you?"

She was quit to respond, fuck it now, right? "No, but I'm not the one who protested again the fake dating thing as if it was a request to walk into an open fire," she said defensively. She could not fathom how he could just run around this world, giving these mixed vibes all the time. And Lando was having the same kind of questions.

He stared her deeply in the eyes. His 30 seconds counting.

"Y/N. I think we're past the whole hatered thing. I really like you and it feels stupid to say it like that. But apparently, I need to say it in order for you to start believing me." He wanted to add few sentences about how he will leave her alone immediately if she didn't feel the same. But he didn't. Stopped avoiding.

Now it was her taken back. Stripped down to the core. Time to come forward, to herself and the gorgeous boy she wanted to devour.

"You once said no strings attached. I want strings attached. If we were to continue, I can't do something casual with you. I'm already beside that point," she said slowly, picking the right words in order to get point out.

He smiled. "Good. Feels nice being on the same page." She let out a smirk and a small laugh. The tension in the room gone and waves of relief washing them over.

"Do you realize we sound like high schoolers with a crush?" she commented with a noticeable ease.

"The truth is I believe not so far away from that." She made him feel all those feelings. Excitement. Butterflies. Healthy amount of nervousness. Because he cared. Because they both did.

"Can you come closer to me?" he asked, pointing at the blank space at the couch. More than wiling, she got up and sat next to him.

"Can I kiss you before I ask you to about the lawyers?" she pleaded, while he held her hand gently. He did not need any convincing. In fact, this was all he needed. He approached her face slowly, taking his time to take in the moment. And when he ultimately lock his lips with hers, it was like unlocking a whole new level in the game. Tender, vulnerable and soft. For her, it was like letting go of the biggest worry, she could finally let herself loose and be herself. With all the strings attached. He caressed her lips once more before they both reached for a short breath. He took a lock of her hair in his fingertips and played with it. She kept touching his hands, that were sending her all the way to hell.

"So, are we going with the whole dating thing?" she asked, mainly for confirmation.

"I hope so...It feels exciting to think about that," he said quietly, as if he just began to realize that.

"Yes, it does," she said, before she finally ended their moment of soft whispers and pulled back a bit. "So, the fuck you're talking about some lawyers shit. Are you planning on suing me?"

He laughed. "I find it funny that your mind went immediately towards that."

"Well you know, child of divorced parents, you never know," she said with a hint of sarcasm masking the true feeling of traumatic memories.

"Right, I understand," he said seriously and made a mental not to ask her about this another time. He longed to know absolutely everything. He shuffled to position himself in less of a slag off position. "So, I've been thinking. The whole "PR relationship thing" - at first I thought it was the worst idea known to human kind. I want to try it with you for real, not to dance like a puppy and not following my feelings," he said as her heart danced the happiest of dances. She nodded at him, letting him finish. Lando was surprised at how much she shifted towards listening instead of constantly jumping into his sentences. He was growing to like that. It was hard for him not to smile. "Right, stop giving me these looks, it's hard for me to get to the point," he said, smiles escaping left and right.

"Hard, you're saying?" she said cheekily. Oh, he was going to make her night really difficult later.

"Anyway, as I was saying. The whole PR thing will be an issue, or more like a thing to tackle together in the future anyway, so why not have some control over it."

She was trying to let this idea sink in. "So you're saying, like date for real and let people think it's for PR?"

He was happy that she appeared to be on the same page. "Exactly. Do whatever we want and just let them worry about our story. And at some point, when we see how this goes, we'll just say we managed to fall for each other because of them and it will a whole happy story for everyone. I feel like if we disclose now, we're robbing ourselves of precious time to get to know each other. What do you think?"

She thought about it for a moment - but her gut feeling was telling her to trust Lando. If she was to start dating him, it would be good to become a team. And he was around this stuff, better than she was. "I think what you're saying makes a lot of sense."

"Pardon? I did not quite catch what you're saying," he said, making fun of her.

"You idiot, you've heard me perfectly fine!" she responded, the corners of her mouth going up again.

"No, I did not, you're gonna have to come closer to say that," he winked at her and got dangerously close to her once again. "Closer, still far away," he said as he licked his lips before kissing her again. While having a way faster battle of tongues this time, she cupped his face as he gently pushed her down to lay on the couch they were sharing.

"There are few things to change in the contract," he said in between kisses, his voice getting characteristically high, as it always did when he was excited. "We need to add a Recognition of Potential Feeling clause, or whatever," he remarked as his mouth found her neck. "And few things regarding the physical aspect of the relation," he whispered to her neck, as she started to let out gentle moans.

"Physical aspects?" she let out suggestively. "Could you be more specific?"

His hands started to roam under her shirt. "I'm happy to show you everything that contract is banning us from doing. First point being not having any physical contact alone."

"Poor Oscar, he's gonna be mortified when he finds out he has to watch," she joked, as she began to touch his dick through his pants.

He bit her lower lip. "Do you like that? When people watch?"

"Depends. I want you all for myself."

"Oh, finally something we agree on. I'm going to be very territorial, you know? Let everyone know that this," he pointed at her torso, "this and this is mine," he said as his hand went in between her legs and lastly to her head. He looked her deeply in the eyes before speaking again. "I've fucked your body, but I feel like mind-fucking you is going to be fun."

Her eyes were wide open and she felt herself getting wetter and wetter. "Lando, show me everything this contract is prohibiting us to do."

It was like giving him three shots of espresso. He smirked, as he began to take off his shirt. "You're going to have to strip for me, honey." She more than happily obliged.

Lando observed like a hungry animal. She was finally his, fully. Her hands crept up his torso, lining his muscles all the way in.

"No touching here," he said as he roamed around her cleavage, "definitely not this," he continued as he kissed her nipple and let her grab his hair firmly. "Oh and most definitely not this," he ended with his hand reaching out all the way down and circled around her clit.

Blood rushed into her head and she arched herself on the sofa handle, giving him a sight to remember during lonely nights. Dim light hitting her body with shadows highlighting the curves. He watched, as his fingers made her lips turn into a smile. It was intoxicating. He flicked them like scissors, gently and watching his tempo. Then he took them out and licked them while maintaining eye contact.

"I want a taste of you," she said before thinking and gestured to come over to her face. She opened her mouth and closed her eyes, starting at the very tip and playing with it gently. She moved her hand up and down his shaft and started taking him in more and more.

Lando was never fan of slow sex. But her moves made him curious to see how far he can push her and himself. Her tongue and lips felt like a soft feather, making his now wet dick sensitive. He got shivers down his lower back, something he rarely did. It was like pleasure started flowing though his whole body. He reached out to hold her other hand and he began slowly moving his hips. He was sliding up and down her tongue as she wrapped her lips around without any plans of letting him go. He on the other hand slit out of her mouth completely, albeit reluctantly. He locked eyes with her and they both knew what was coming next. "I want to try something new this time," he whispered with a hint of excitement in his voice. She was more than happy to try new things with him, knowing all too well that he was perceptive enough to stop the moment she'd feel uncomfortable.

She expected a meriad of different things - but not him, sliding in as slow as possible. It was the sweetest form of torture. Her body, used to his deep hard thrusts was now tightly wrapped around his cock. Lando felt heavenly. Feeling every inch of her body that was around him more intensively than ever before. He kept his slow tempo she she arched her back again, providing him with his favorite view and an angle, that made his moves feel deeper now. Y/n never understood before this moment why some people really likes slow sex. There was tenderness, focus and a pelicular pleasure coming in longer waves. It was like slowing down made them more present. She felt wetter than she ever had with him. And soon enough, when her mind was somewhere high up in the sky, a clear warm liquid started coming out of her - and with every squirt an indescribable heat of pleasure coming around her lower belly. Her breathing became harder and harder, moans that she could not hold in for her life. Lando first felt warmth on his cock and then looked down as drop of her juices started hitting on his stomach. He watched with awe, not being able to get a girl into this position before. As he watched her drown in orgasms, he sped up just a tiny bit in order to get himself ready to finish once she was done. And when he inevitably did, he painted with him cum all over her bare chest.

If this was how it was going to be now, he is going to be a very happy man.

Y/N came down in few moments, her breath going at a normal speed now. He reached out for a box of tissue to get her cleaned up and kissed her once again.

"This was a nice sight," he said, again with his voice going up higher than usual.

She was taken back, this new incredible feeling of finally being "empty" taking over and mixing with a hint of shame as she the aftermath she left on the couch. Lando noticed when her face went red as she saw her stain.

"That's quite embarrassing," she said shyly. And that was not something that Lando would allow. He took his hand and pulled her chin up gently.

"Now, do not ever say that. Did it feel good?" he asked, genuinely curious.

She was gathering herself for a moment before finally admitting. "Oh, god, yes. Unreal."

He smiled proudly. "Good. Well then this is not the last time we're doing this. And also, this," he said pointing at the stain, "is not something a towel can't solve."

She bit her lips and let a smile escape her. If love was a sunbeam, her world was the brightest day in the middle of summer.

p12

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izvmimi · 1 year

Text

cw: apology smut. minors dni.

this is the first time you've let katsuki touch you since your last argument, and katsuki's breath hitches sharply in his throat when you don't automatically withdraw from him. it's sad honestly - it's just a simple brush of his hand against yours as he tries to grab the fridge handle, but the fact that you don't quickly shuffle away from him or give him an annoyed look carries a little too much hope for him.

it hasn't even been a long time since you've started giving him this silent treatment, but the man cannot last more than a couple hours, let alone a full day of you being cold to him. you have to admit it's immature to ignore him, but don't you have the right to be immature once in a while? after all, you endure a lot being married to him, enough that you've stayed off social media, and enough that this is the first time you've actually brought something up to him.

seeing katsuki smiling so widely, laughing with someone else, even if you do ultimately believe him that the relationship with the young, pretty up-and-comer is platonic and the apparent closeness is accentuated by the angle from which the photo was taken, you're still annoyed and made it clear so. after all, you don't appreciate looking like a fool.

he clears his throat and you don't turn to look at him, sitting down at the kitchen table and opening a book as you sip a glass of apple juice with no ice. bakugou pauses, hand sweatier than usual around his own glass of water, and watches you. contemplating. can he try again? will confronting you one more time only prolong this silence or will you cry and dig your heels in, risking a chance to lose you altogether?

he swallows hard, throat suddenly dry, but cannot bring the glass of water to his lips.

then you sigh and look up at him.

"katsuki."

katsuki moves almost too quickly to stand before you, anxiety laden in every step. your eyes slide to the chair next to you and he sits, knees turned in your direction, glass set down too quickly, enough that it wobbles but doesn't fall. ice clinks within and settles.

"yes... princess?"

you twist your mouth to the side but can't really form the words to apologize. after all, you aren't really the one who transgressed; rather it was katsuki not being careful enough to make sure certain pictures didn't run the chance of upsetting you. you're still not sure how that particular magazine made its way on your very doorstep but here you were.

"do you love me?" you ask, firmly.

"so much." he insists. his hands find one of yours and covers them. his eyes are pleading for you to forgive him, the fire of defensive anger no longer behind them. katsuki doesn't yell at you when he's angry but his voice raises. he fights with his words and his fists clench. instead today he holds your hand carefully. he's not a threat and will never be, but he wants you to know that especially today.

you sigh.

"you need a better pr team," you say. katsuki squeezes your hand, lips pulling into a tentative smile.

"i'll fire everyone."

you give him a look, then giggle. "that's not exactly what i asked."

"i know, but it's an option." he brings your hand up to his lips to kiss the back, and you smile.

your husband is yours, no matter what the media may suggest is a more compatible new flame, and he sets out to make sure you know that. you are the only one for him.

so in tune with your shifting emotions, the moment your eyes flicker to his lips, filled with longing, he's kissing you. the act of your mouths connecting turn into a natural acceptance of your tongue, and then the pull of your body, still in last night's pajamas, into his lap. your arms wrap around his shoulders, and you kiss him more, even deeper; he sucks at every part of you, hands finding their way up your shirt, then unbuttoning them until your breasts are bare, pressed against his chest. he lets you disrobe his torso, until you are skin to skin, and the rays of the sun seeping through the kitchen blinds form patterns on your exposed bodies. your hearts pound, and you breathe against each other, rutting against fabric, then your soft parts. you let him slip inside you, his eyes nearly rolling back in his head as he groans and let you clench around him. the rock of your bodies moving against each other is slow and deep, then fast and desperate until you're clinging to his shoulders and you're crying out his name, trembling.

he carries you to the bedroom still connected, and he recommences until your legs shake and he's whispering his vows again to you into your bosom.

you are the only one for him, and he hopes you'll always have him.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki smut #bakugou smut #thoughts: bakugou #daydreams: bnha #mimi's notes

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