#decided to check Twitter for likely one of the last times and this was so exciting to see | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

porcelana-r0ta · 9 months

Text

let the mourners come

Title: let the mourners come

Ao3 Link: Only available to Ao3 users

Word Count: 3045

Summary:

It started, as most things do with Danny Fenton, as a joke.

It ended, as most things do with Jazz Fenton, with things better than they were before.

xxXxx

When Danny finally gets a Twitter, it’s during Elon Musk’s shit show takeover. He’s able to secure a good Twitter handle thanks to people leaving en masse and fleeing to Tumblr. He knows about things that happen outside of Amity Park (he is terminally online rather than chronically, after all), but he still doesn’t think anything of using @TheJoker as his handle, even knowing about Gotham City’s clown troubles. It’s just going to be a shitpost account, anyway, one that dances in the chaos of Elon’s electronic graveyard. Nothing will come about him using @TheJoker when he’s merely posting things like, “Just grew a new row of teeth!!! very pointy but can’t go to the dentist anymore bc they might turn me in to the giw.”

So Danny honestly never foresaw The Actual Real Joker breaking out of Arkham Asylum all the way in Gotham City, New Jersey, and deciding to get a Twitter account to terrorize people online as well as offline. And he definitely never foresaw The Joker @’ing him on Twitter, demanding that Danny change his Twitter handle. But, well. Here he was.

[Image Description: A screenshot of a Twitter reply chain, starting with the real Joker @'ing Danny's Twitter account, which uses TheJoker as his Twitter handle. The Joker, who has a verified account, demands that Danny "change your handle", and Danny replies with a simple "no" followed by red heart emoji. The Joker Tweets, "Kid you don't know who you're fucking with," to which Danny replies, "Ye I do ur some dude w/ poor fashion sense and lame jokes. Maybe try badjokesbyjeff bc originality is ugly on u" followed by a shrugging emoticon. The Joker responds, "Check your DMs." Danny then responds, "Perf [happy emoji surrounded by hearts] I've sent you a time and place. Can't wait to beat the shit out of another disgrace of a clown." Someone with the username "Gregg rulz ok" responds to Danny's last Tweet, "Bro is absolutely RATIOING the joker but the clown keeps responding [three skull emojis] embarrassing frfr too bad he's gonna die for realsies".

End ID]

Danny is quick to respond and then makes even quicker work of roasting The Joker. This soon results in The Joker DMing him his IP Address and a creative threat. Still, Danny isn’t about to cow to a clown with no respect for the art of clowning. He replies to the DM:

Cool, meet me at the Nasty Burger parking lot in Amity Park IL on tuesday at 2am

The response from The Joker is quick:

Fourteen year olds are too confident these days

Danny rolls his eyes and ignores the influx of notifications from Twitter, and instead makes another Tweet.

Imagine beefing with someone over a Twitter handle lol acc so embarrassing for him

He blackens his screen and stretches in bed, letting his spine pop more than what is humanly possible. He runs his tongue over that second row of teeth, his lips curling into a grin.

xxXxx

Gothamite Twitter is blowing up over The Joker’s social media beef with a faceless shitposting account. Jason, upon finding out about it, has a series of reactions: first, he looks up the shitposter and follows them. Then, he finds the actual chain between the poster and The Joker, and his vision goes vibrant green when he sees that The Joker’s profile picture is of the second Robin, beaten and swollen in an abandoned building in Ethiopia.

When his vision clears and he can breathe without wanting to kill, he likes the shitposter’s replies, and he calls the Replacement to see if the other Bats know already.

“We know,” Tim says in lieu of a hello when the ringing cuts out. “We’re working on it.”

“What, you think anything’s gonna come of it?” But even as Jason asks, he already knows the answer. The Joker is unhinged and once he’s threatened something, he’ll follow up unless he comes up with a “funnier” option.

Tim’s breath hitches, and he says, “I’ve hacked their DMs. Joker knows the kid’s IP address and sent it to him. He knows everything from that address alone.”

He pauses in the middle of suiting up, “Kid?”

He hears Tim swallow, “Yes, kid. He’s fifteen. And he gave The Joker a specific time and place to meet up to fight. In his own hometown.”

“Are— are you fucking kidding me?”

“No. B is already calling Nightwing. We’re taking the Batwing to Illinois.”

“Jesus fuck. I’ll be there in twenty.”

“Hood, I—”

“Shut up, I’m already in my gear.” He hangs up without waiting for a response.

He refreshes the Twitter feed and barks a laugh at the newest Tweet:

Jason Todd votes, and the Red Hood leaves his safe house.

xxXxx

A commercial flight to Illinois takes around two and a half hours. In the Batwing, they get there in an hour, and don’t even have to worry about the drive from Chicago to a small speck of a town like Amity Park. They spend the quick flight learning everything they can about Daniel James Fenton, the owner of the Twitter account, and they can all sense the growing tension from (and between) Bruce and Jason.

But, well. Jason doesn’t care. Let them be uncomfortable. It doesn’t compare to being ripped back into life and finding out his dad didn’t even get justice for his death.

When they reach town, it doesn’t take long to find the Fentons’ home. This is in part because Amity Park is a very navigable town, and because of the giant neon sign proclaiming FentonWorks on the side of the building.

“Is that a blimp?” Dick asks. “Why don’t we have a blimp?”

“Where would we keep it?” the Demon Brat counters practically. “Goliath takes up all of the Cave’s extra space.”

Jason rolls his eyes and knows veins would be popping out of Bruce’s forehead if it weren’t for the cowl.

“Let’s go,” Bruce says instead, and they all make their way to the house.

Nightwing, predictably, goes for the front door approach. Jason rolls his eyes as he takes one of the second-story windows and finds his way downstairs.

He gets down at the same time that a redheaded girl answers the door and nearly slams it in Dick’s face. Jason has to suppress snickers at the sight.

“Wait, wait, wait, are you Jazz Fenton? We need to talk to your brother!”

“...We?” she asks, then tenses and turns around to see the rest of the Bats in the hall behind her. Dick takes the opportunity to step in completely, closing the door behind him. “Wha— what’s going on?”

“Where are your parents, Jazz?” Bruce makes every question sound like a demand. Jason rolls his eyes from behind his mask—way to put the teenager at ease, B.

“Why do you need to know?” Her voice has a defensive edge to it. “What do you want with Danny?”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Nightwing comforts. “He didn’t do anything too bad, just said some dumb things online. It’s not his fault.”

This relaxes her, and her shoulders begin un-hunching. “Oh, s-so what’d he do?”

“He foolishly challenged The Joker to a battle in a ‘Nasty Burger’ parking lot tonight.”

“You could’ve had some more tact, Robin,” Nightwing scolds. But the Demon Spawn just crosses his arms.

“He did what?” Jazz shrieks. “Like, The Joker from Gotham? That Joker?”

“Are there others?” Red Hood comments dryly.

Her face goes through several different emotions—disbelief, rage, fear, and then rage again, “DANIEL JAMES FENTON! GET DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!”

There’s a thumping noise, and then frantic footsteps down the stairs.

“Wha? Who died?” asks the figure of a tiny fifteen-year-old, smaller than even Jason had been when he was alone with The Joker. He’s tiny and lanky. Zero muscle definition. Eye bags to rival the Replacement’s. Something ripples in the Pit, deep and distinct, but he can’t name what causes it.

Oh, this kid is so dead.

“Danny,” says Jazz calmly while Danny blinks uncomprehendingly at the heroes in their hallway. She is solemn when she says, “I’m afraid I’m going to have to kill you now.”

“What did I do?”

She stares at him, “Why have you scheduled a fight with The Joker?”

“Oh, that.” He rubs the back of his neck, “Is he taking that seriously?”

“Of course he is, Danny! It’s The Joker! That’s what he does! He can’t differentiate between a joke and reality! He would tear off his own face for the bit!”

“Oof,” is all Danny can muster. He digs his phone out and starts typing before Jazz yanks it out his hand.

“You’re fucking TWEETING about this?” Jazz asks incredulously, and Hood’s hackles rise. She even reads the Tweet aloud, “‘Just found out @TheJ0ker is being fr about fighting me. Sad but i can take a clown.’”

“I was gonna add ‘i’ve done it b4,’ but like the letter and the number four. But yeah.”

“You’re grounded forever.” Danny opens his mouth to protest, but the look Jazz cuts at him is so scathing that he shuts his mouth. Hood is reluctantly impressed—she had what could be cultivated into a fantastic Batglare. She pockets the phone, “You’re never getting this phone back. Taunting The Joker to Amity? Have you any brain cells? What if he brings Joker gas with him, huh? Or any of his goons? What if he starts hurting other people? Have you thought any of this through?”

Danny’s face goes from tired to chastised, his lips drawing into a frown, especially at the mention of other people.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t think that he’d take it so seriously.”

“He sent you your IP Address.”

“I thought that was just a random string of numbers?”

“Oh my god,” Jazz despairs. “Oh my god. Grounded forever. See, I know you're lying to me. I know you're lying because Tucker, the nerdiest tech nerd to have ever been born, is your best friend.”

He rubs the back of his neck, “I tune him out?”

“You’re still lying to me?” Jazz scoffs and turns to Batman, “Do whatever you want with him. I’m not going to defend him from this.”

“Hey!” complained her brother, but Batman just continued on, “Where are your parents?”

“They’re in Sweden for a science convention,” Jazz answers. “They left this morning.”

Damn, Jason curses to himself.

“Jazz, seriously. You’re not gonna let Batman kill me, right?”

“Do you want to be cremated or buried, Danny?�� Jazz asks blasély, and Danny gulps, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes.

“It’s my Twitter handle,” he mutters petulantly, and Jason can’t believe the gall of this kid. Or maybe stupidity. Audacity’s a good one, too. “If he wanted it, he should’ve gotten it first. And he gives clowns a bad name.”

“Not the clown thing again.” Jazz digs her palms into her eyes, sighs, then turns to the heroes. “He has a whole clown thing ever since Circus Gothica came to town and robbed a bunch of jewelry stores.”

Danny gestures wildly with his hands, as if demonizing clowns was the real problem and not the egomaniacal mass murderer who wanted to murder him for his Twitter handle, “Clowning is an art form, Jazz, and people like Freakshow and The Joker make a mockery of the very serious societal statements that clowns make!”

All of the Bats very carefully Did Not look at Nightwing, who has made very similar rants on quiet patrols.

“You are never leaving this house again,” she says serenely. “And I’m unplugging the wifi router.”

“You would punish even yourself?”

“Oh, little brother. I would watch the world burn if it meant knocking sense into your thick skull.”

“Okay, Christ,” Red Hood finally interrupted the siblings’ melodrama. An unyielding redheaded girl and a mouthy black-haired, blue-eyed boy? They’d fit in a little too well back at the Manor, so Jason needs to cut this shit out before Bruce’s bat-doption instincts start tingling. “Stop. Just… Christ. Stop. Is this how you always interact with each other?”

“Sometimes there’s explosions,” Danny pipes up, a cheeky grin on his face.

Jazz doesn’t dispute it.

Fucking hell. God damn it. I can’t. I just can’t.

Batman doesn’t give anything away, “Robin and Red Robin will be staying here with you until Nightwing, Hood, and I apprehend The Joker. First, we’re going to check the perimeter.”

“Oooh, I get to give the lab tour!”

Lab?

“No lab. You’re grounded. You’ll only be in there for cleaning duty now.”

“Wh– hey! No fair!”

“What’s this lab you two are talking about?” Red Robin asks before Jazz can rip into her brother again.

She sighs, “Our parents’ lab. I’ll show you, but someone needs to stay with Danny.”

“You act like I’m gonna run off and start World War III….”

“I wonder why,” she says sarcastically.

Batman nods to Robin, who nods back, and the rest of them follow Jazz out of the living room to a metal reinforced door. She types in a code—Jason catches the numbers 03-14-99. There’s an assenting beep, and she opens the door, flicking on the lights and leading them down into what is apparently a basement lab.

A stone settles in Red Hood’s stomach, cold and heavy.

The basement is large, likely the floor size of the entire building. There are several work tables, filled with miscellaneous blueprints and spare parts and weapons and tools. Against the farthest wall is another armored door, but what draws Hood’s—and the entire Batclan’s—attention is the south wall, where a circular hole in the wall was glowing a toxic Pit green.

The stone shattered in his stomach, splintering into his body. Is it harder or easier to breathe? Jason can’t tell.

“Wow,” says Nightwing. His voice is cheerful, but Jason can feel the stress beneath it. “Do I even want to know?”

Wasn’t this supposed to just be typical Joker bullshit?

“Our parents are ectobiologists,” Jazz explains nonchalantly, walking further into the lab. “As in, ghost biologists.” She pauses at one of the work tables, picking up a green and white thermos. Pretty boring, considering the rest of their surroundings.

“Ghosts.” Red Robin’s voice is carefully neutral.

“Ghosts,” Jazz reaffirms. “I know. I thought they were crazy at first, too. But I can prove it, if you like.” Then, without waiting for a yes or no, she untwists the thermos, and there’s a bright flash of white, and a whole entire body sprouting out of it.

“WHOO! I’M FREE!” cries the…being, pale and floating and lanky and entirely too big to have fit into a fucking thermos, of all the fucking things. “....And not in the Realms? Wait.” He stops stretching, descending to rest closer to the ground, but still hovering a few inches from the floor. He’s got green eyes and lifeless (ha) blond hair. He’s wearing a trenchcoat and a green skull necklace. Overall, he looks like the type of thug he’d arrest in the Bowery.

“Hello, Johnny.” The man’s—ghost’s?—eyes flicker around each person in the room, his gaze becoming more and more confused and panicked as he takes in each Bat, before settling on Jazz Fenton.

“Why are the fucking Bats here?”

“The Joker’s coming to Amity,” she says. The ghost’s eyes widen. Jazz tilts her head, “How many ghosts would you say passed away in Gotham, Johnny?”

As Jason and the Bats tense, this Johnny guy lets out a wicked laugh, “Oh, Doll, you have the best surprises. Why did we break up?”

“You did try to have my body possessed. That ruins any good relationship.”

“Man, but Kitty’ll love this. Thanks for letting me out of Soup Time, Doll.” He floats higher, “Any advice?”

She throws him the phone she’d confiscated from Danny and he catches it easily, “Everything’s on here. Have fun.”

“What exactly are you planning?” Batman scowls.

Johnny laughs, “Aww, don’t worry, Bats. Peace and love on Planet Earth, or whatever. We’ll make it quick.” Then, as the Bats leap into action as one, Johnny turns invisible, the Batarangs passing harmlessly through where he’d once been floating.

“Where did he go?” Batman turns his scowl, angrier than ever, to Jazmin Fenton, who stares back unflinchingly. “He’s going to solve the problem.”

“You mean he’s going to kill The Joker.”

She shakes her head, “Oh, no. That’d just be asking for him to come back as a ghost. Could you imagine a Joker with powers like invisibility, intangibility, flight, and more? Johnny can be impulsive, but he’s smart. None of them will kill The Joker.”

“Then what are they going to do?” Red Robin asks.

“My parents are ectobiologists,” Jazz repeats from earlier. “But I am more of an anthro-ectopologist. I am concerned with the study of ectoplasmic beings’ societies and cultures. And while it is very ancient, there is protocol in the Infinite Realms—that is, where you go when you die, should you remain after death—to prosecute living criminals who have killed a certain number of Realms citizens. So you don’t have to worry about your moral code, Batman. The Joker will be tried by a much fairer court than Gotham can ever hope to have. No offense.”

Jason stares at Jazz Fenton, who he’d pegged as the sane sibling. He’s not so sure now, but he can’t say he hates it.

“And how do we know it’s a fair trial?” Nightwing asks.

She waves her hand, “Oh, as Gotham’s Knights, you’re key witnesses. I’m sure you’ll be summoned to testify. You will see then. And don’t worry about your secret identities—the dead don’t care much for that sort of thing.”

“So if this is a ‘fair’ trial or whatever, The Joker’s going to be locked up forever?” Jason asks. “I mean, that’s the only option for shit like him.”

Batman sends him a look, but he ignores it.

“Well, there are several different punishments that could be deemed appropriate, but he’ll never be able to set foot in the mortal world again, yes.”

Jason Todd grins, “Oh, I’m glad your brother’s stupid, kid.”

She sighs, long-suffering, “Well, that makes one of us. Still, there’s more important things we should discuss now that you’re here.”

“More important than The Joker trying to kill your brother over a Twitter handle?” Red Robin asks doubtfully.

Jazz smiles, sharp and dangerous, and asks, ”Have you ever heard of the Anti-Ecto Acts?”

xxXxx

Several months later when Danny is finally un-grounded, he Tweets his last three Tweets before Twitter can become the foolishly named X:

Imagine bullying the Joker so hard that it not only lands the Joker in ghost prison BUT it also leads to major law reform in the US lmao someone make the domino effect meme about this pls

Y’allre replying to me with thanks like i did anything other than be an internet troll. My sister literally manipulated local, federal, and interdimensional law so you should be thanking her.

i just a babie 🥺🥺🥺

xxXxx

Thanks for reading! This is the whole fic, so pls do not ask for tags! Thank you :)

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #danny phantom #danny fenton #jazz fenton #jason todd #batman #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 #the joker #johnny 13 #severely ooc

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berzahoes · 5 months

Text

“slut!” | tom blyth

summary: in a word full of boys, tom is a gentleman.

an: takes place before filming billy the kid

warnings: mean names hence the title also if you care, reader is the same age as tom lol

“so keep your boyfriends hidden because y/n is newly single!”

“how many boyfriends has she had in the last four years?”

“clearly she’s the problem if she can’t keep a boyfriend.”

you heard it all. the names people called you, the headlines, news reports. it was always the same. people would rather shame you for your love life than be quiet. in the past you did joke that you went on many dates, clearly the media didn’t care if you were joking or not.

your manager had even banned you from looking at the really negative comments on your phone. twitter was having a field day with your love life.

“slut!” was the phrase often directed towards you. while your loyal fans defend you, you could still see all the hurtful things people said about you.

“do you want to cancel tomorrow’s interview?” lisa, your manager, asked one day. you hadn’t answered your phone at all and she was concerned so she drove to your new york apartment and let herself in with the spare key she had. she had found you in the darkness of your room curled up with your plethora of blankets.

“cancel everything. i just want to rest for a while.” you managed to say. lisa was like your second mom. she cared about you more than anything.

“we can do that.” lisa assured.

“lisa?” you turned to face her.

“yes?”

“thanks for checking on me.”

“always.”

after that conversation, lisa made some calls and any movie or tv show deal you had were quickly cancelled. over the next few days, the media found out that you pulled out of many movies from big franchises like marvel and star wars. it was always a dream of yours to be in anything marvel or star wars related, but for now, those projects had to continue without you.

many friends and colleagues reached out to you, but all you could do was send a simple ‘thank you’ and be done with it.

days passed and you were still in your apartment. you didn’t mind being alone, you liked it better that way. sometimes lisa or your parents would drop by or even your upstairs neighbor, mrs. davis, a nice old lady who knew that your favorite cupcakes were red velvet so she made you some to cheer you up.

it was a tuesday afternoon when you heard someone cursing multiple out in the hallway. you figured someone got locked out so you ignored it. pretty much everyone in the entire building got locked out at least once. you were ignoring the cursing as you continued reading your book and ate your red velvet cupcake that your kind neighbor had made you. a few seconds later, you heard a knock on your door.

“no.” you groaned as you stood up to answer the door. you opened it to find tom. you had only known him because you had a mutual friend so you were surprised to see him at your door.

“hi,” he spoke. “i called and texted . . a lot. i just wanted to see how you were.”

“i’m alive as you can see.” you said.

“i know you’ve been asked this question a lot lately but are you okay?”

that’s when you broke down. you couldn’t keep it together in front of tom, but he didn’t mind comforting you. somehow he knew exactly what you needed to hear.

he would often come over to keep you company when lisa or your parents couldn’t. he understood you didn’t want to step foot outside so he didn’t force you. instead, you two would go up to the terrace of your apartment building and hang out. tom would bring lunch or dinner depending on the time that he decided to visit. during that time, you two would talk about whatever would come to mind. tom did his best to avoid talking about work, but you always asked how his filming was going or if he had auditioned for anything new.

“i got the part,” he admitted. “i’m playing billy the kid.” he smiled brightly.

“I’m so happy for you, tom! you deserve it!” you hugged him.

“it’ll be announced next week. you’re the first to know, well apart from my manager.” he chuckled.

“you deserve that and more.” you smiled.

“you do too. other people should see that,” tom said. “you’re so talented and amazing and everything about you is so. . . incredible. i wish people see you the way i do.”

you were speechless.

“are you okay?” tom asked when he noticed you were quiet.

fuck. fuck. fuck FUCK he thought to himself

“you mean it?” you managed to say. you could feel yourself start to blush.

“every bit and more. i enjoy being with you and if i could be with you for the rest of my life then i would die a happy man.”

#tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth imagine #actress!reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tom blyth fanfic #tom blyth one shot

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nicosraf · 6 days

Note

Wait what did Freydis Moon do? :( I've read their books and really liked them, but I don't follow them anywhere online, so that last ask you got worried me

Freydis Moon has been exposed to be Taylor Barton, a white person from the state of Oregon, someone who had a history of faking their race, being racist, and general abusive behavior. You can read more here about this Taylor person here, and you can find an incredibly long thread here.

Freydis was a colleague of mine, and they took me under their wing when I entered the indie book scene. They presented themselves as a Latine, mystic, queer trans author — who was older than me, I should add — so I deeply admired them and confided in them. I don't think ABM would have ever gotten much attention if I hadn't received their guidance.

There had been some whispers that Freydis was really Taylor, but I'd seen Frey's seemingly darker-skinned hands and heard their real name, which was supposedly Daniela.

Two things I should say before the big reveal: Freydis briefly hired a publicist named Cordi, who was also an agent with their own agency, named The Lynne Agency. Cordi, very randomly, decided to leave the industry and left their clients, and Freydis, hanging. Someone else to mention is Saint Harlow, an author of gay, cannibal erotica. On twitter, Saint was known for peddling a lot of drama — sometimes, he was on the good side of things and sometimes the bad, but he tended to be a massive bully. Freydis allegedly comforted some of Saint's victims.

And the reveal:

Freydis is the race faker Taylor Barton. The evidence is substantial, but most notably, some of the files they shared with other authors, including me, had metadata with the names of Taylor Barton's other identities. I was able to check the files myself to confirm.

They were also Saint Harlow. Meaning Freydis was bullying people secretly on one account and comforting them on another. And the bullying was a lot more disgusting than you might think, but for the sake of the victim, I won't share details.

They were also the publicist/agent Cordi. Why did they pretend to be an agent at all? I'm not sure but they wasted a lot of authors' times, that's for sure. Were they just looking to plagiarize off manuscripts sent to them? Who knows. (A friend of mine who sent their manuscript to them fears so).

There were a lot of interactions between Taylor and I that are much much weirder in retrospect. They critiqued the industry use of #ownvoices, which I agreed about, but blew the issue out of proportion, like thinking #ownvoices gay-trans author book lists shouldn't exist because of potential outing, mlm books by mlm authors lists shouldn't exist because of potential outing, and that lists of books by people of color about people of color also shouldn't exist because... potential outing? Taylor was, to me, oddly sympathetic toward certain authors accused of racism and shot down my concerns of a certain book with what I felt to be pro-colonizer themes inconsistently — their response to racism seemed to depend on whether they already disliked a person or not.

I could say a lot more but as someone who spoke to Taylor in private at times, there were a lot of things I was unsure about even when I was on their side of things. To some people, apparently, Freydis had said they were part Mexican, but only ever told me they were Peruvian (they might've known I'd clock them as a faker). Regardless, when this all came to light, their response was shockingly dismissive.

This may be more info than you asked for but TLDR:

Freydis Moon faked their race and ethnicity, bullied and manipulated many readers and authors using various fake identities, took advantage of latine author resources, and so on.

#mine #ask #publishing #freydis moon

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sweeterlovers · 16 days

Text

REMINDERS / DANIEL RICCIARDO

daniel ricciardo x influencer reader / SMAU FIC

FACE CLAIM / jazmyn makenna

WARNINGS / suggestive comments/banter

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1, and 230,467 others

yourusername went to daniel’s 2nd homeland (texas)

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user8 she makes texas look so aesthetic

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yourusername me and daniel decided to go a little earlier and spend some time around texas. we even rented out a little cabin and everything soo im excited 😊

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danielricciardo me and my cowgirl ❤️

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user20 “MY COWGIRL” i’m crying 😭

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INSTAGRAM

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yourusername me and my cowboy went out to a bar last night and pretended to be southern 👍 so if you think you saw us you didn’t

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user572 that dress thooooo

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maxverstappen1 i’m leaving

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INSTAGRAM STORIES

[ twitter is right, how on earth did i pull this goddess? ]

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ynismygf really tho?

motheryn that’s what we are all wondering

yourusername pleasee how did i pull you?

danielricciardo don’t even….you are the most gorgeous woman i have ever met + half of F1 twitter thinks your “mother” what ever that means?

yourusername i am in fact mother 💋

INSTAGRAM

liked by danielricciardo, yourbestfriend, and 560,789 others

yourusername guess who took these photos? 💋💋

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user0966 mommy.

user334 MY WIFE HAS POSTED!!!

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danielricciardo yeah i’m basically her photography now :)

yourusername don’t worry i’m not forcing him…..photo credits to dani 🤠

user54 🤍

user037 he could be a photographer honestly

yourusername you should check his jpg account :)

danielricciardo thanks for the promotion baby

yourusername anytime 👏

user05 she is sooo fineee

yourbestfriend GORGEOUS GIRL

yourusername uno reverse 🔄

INSTAGRAM

liked by yourusername, yourbestfriend, and 245,783 others

daniel3.jpg since i’m YN’s photographer, i thought i would post some photos from her many many shopping sprees that couldn’t make it on instagram 🤍 @ yourusername

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user80 they are so cute

yourbestfriend MOTHER IS MOTHERING ‼️‼️

yourusername PLSSS I LOVE YOU SO MUCH MY WIFE

daniel3.jpg soo i hate to interrupt this moment but she is my girlfriend 🙏

yourbestfriend is she though? is she?

daniel3.jpg i’d like to think so

user50 daniel is a tad confused

user68 NOT THEM FIGHTING OVER YN

user085 if YN was my girlfriend i would fight over he 24/7

user6 that’s so true tho

4/10/24 - send in requests!!!! xoxo sweeterlovers

#formula 1 #f1 smau #sweeterlovers #f1 fanfic #formula one #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #daniel ricciardo social media au #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo x female reader #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel riccardo x reader #daniel riccardo imagine #daniel ricciardo x reader

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j-onedrabbles · 5 months

Text

𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒎𝒚𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒏

✧ PAIRING: BANG CHAN X FEM!READER ✧ PLOT: listened to STUCKINMYBRAINAGAIN by Chase Atlantic and decided i needed to write angst + anon requests: "Hi hi! Could I request a Channie comfort drabble/fic were the gf!reader starts to distance themselves from Channie because of a really believable dating rumor they found online involving him?" ✧ CW: fem!reader, overthinking, dating rumor, crying, unhealthy coping mechanisms (using alcohol to cope), themes of cheating (there is no actual cheating), reader is written to be of drinking age but age never mentioned, ✧ WC: 1.5K ✧ NOTE: this was kinda sitting in my drafts with a rough idea of a plot then i got an anon requests and it clicked so enjoy

It had to be a rumor. Right?

Y/n scrolled through her Twitter, seeing her boyfriend trending wasn’t new but, curiously clicked it to see what he did this time. Only to find it was a dating rumor.

At first, she thought that Stay or div-1 caught them out on one of their dates but, as she scrolled, she found that it didn’t even involve her. It was another woman. Photos from afar— like most dating rumor photos were— but Y/n could believe this was her boyfriend and someone else, but it wasn't. Was it?

Chan was friends with half the K-pop industry and she knew he had female friends. Could it be one of them? Maybe they were just hanging out?

The longer she looked at the tag, the more her heart ached. Chan spent long hours at the studio working on music for 3RACHA and the kids. What if it wasn't music? Just an excuse to go out with someone else?

The angel on her shoulder told her Chan would never. He was loyal. The best boyfriend anyone could ask for. But the devil was louder.

She got up from the couch and tried to busy herself with anything around the house. Chan had a packed week of schedules and had already told her he was going to crash at the dorms but he promised would text her when he had time—one week of not seeing him.

She couldn't even talk to the guys since they all had promotions to do. What if it was a staff member? She felt like she was going to be sick. Turning on their speaker and blasting a playlist— one without any songs her boyfriend had made, which was a hard feat.

Cleaning the whole apartment while the random Spotify playlist played. She drowned out any noise in her head for as long as she could. Even made dinner for herself and turned on a movie. Silently eating as her phone pinged with a message. She looked at the screen to see the name.

Channie♡: hey baby, just got back to the dorms. How was your day? Y/n♡: okay. Just cleaned the apartment and made dinner. Channie♡: I’m glad you got something to eat love! Are you doing alright without me so far 😉 Y/n♡: yeah. The apartment feels a little empty though. Channie♡: I’m sorry baby 😣 I’m hoping this week goes by fast. I already miss you. Try and get some sleep tonight, okay? Y/n♡: You too. Talk to you later. Channie♡: Yeah, I’ll try and text you more throughout the day, yeah? I love you ❤️ Y/n♡: ily2

Chan looked at the last text, he knew his girlfriend. She wasn’t one to abbreviate an “I love you”. Maybe she just wasn’t having a good day? Tired maybe? She did say she cleaned the whole apartment. He wished he could at least be with her at night but with all their promoting at the moment, it was just a little easier to stay with the kids at the dorms. He’d check in with her when he woke up, maybe send her some food tomorrow.

But he noticed the time between her responses got more and more spaced out and cut down to one or two-word answers. He tried asking her what was wrong but she always said she was fine. It was at the end of the week when one of the guy's managers told him about the dating rumor.

He immediately thought the same as her. Their relationship was caught by fans or div-1. The staff showed him the photos and immediately knew it wasn’t them. Yeah, the guy had the same height and build as him, dressed similarly, and had his face hidden. He thought it was him too for a moment but it was the girl he was with. Complete opposite of Y/n.

He took a closer look at the guy. “That's not me or Y/n. How long has this been out?”

“All week. We knew it wasn’t either of you but we wanted your confirmation.”

All week? The same amount of time Y/n had been acting off. “Fuck,” he sighed

“We can put out a statement denying it and announcing you and Y/n’s relationship,” The manager suggested

“Let me talk to her first. I think she already knows about the rumor.” Chan was thankful it was the end of the day and he finished the last schedule.

He hurried to make his way back home, calling his girlfriend along the way. No answer.

“Hi, you’ve reached Y/n L/n. I can’t come to the phone right now but please leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

“Hi, baby. I’m on my way home. We need to talk when I get there. I love you.”

Y/n listened to the voicemail but did nothing. One week had her spiraling. She ended up taking out one of their bottles and pouring herself a drink. Just wanting the thoughts to stop at this point.

She didn’t know how much she had actually been drinking, just that her world was getting blurry a bit. She didn't even register the front door opening.

“Y/n?” Chan’s voice called

He looked around the living room before spotting her in the kitchen. Both kept eye contact before Y/n broke down. Tears slipped from her eyes as she put the glass on the counter.

“Baby,” Chan ran over to her and pulled her into his arms.

“Is there someone else Chan?” Y/n said through tears.

He noticed the bottle of alcohol and felt worse. She’d known about it all week and said nothing. Thinking worse to the point of drinking.

“There’s no one else baby. Let’s get you some water and sit down, okay?”

“Is she an idol? One of the staff?”

God his heart broke hearing that. He should have checked Twitter or social media sooner. Slowly he sat her on the floor and quickly grabbed some water from the fridge for her. He sat down across from her and soothed her tears as best he could before getting her to drink the water.

“Can you look at me, baby?” Chan asked softly

Y/n looked at him, sniffling as she hugged her knees to her chest.

“Let’s go take a nap okay? Sober up a bit and then talk. Okay?”

“Okay…”

Chan reached his hands towards her to help her up and walk with her to the bedroom. “How much did you drink?”

“Don’t know. Just wanted to stop thinking about the rumor,” Y/n said as he got her under the covers. “Things are a bit blurry.”

“Get some sleep for now. I’ll be here when you wake up and then we can talk.”

Y/n sniffled and wrapped her arms around him, trying to keep him close. Chan did the same. Not wanting to let her go at the moment. Y/n let his warmth lull her to sleep.

Both ended up falling asleep till morning. Not intending to but that's what happened. Chan woke up first but refused to get out of bed. First time in a week he got to wake up next to his girlfriend and he wasn’t missing out on anything.

He ran his hand through her hair as he looked down at her sleeping form on his chest. Slowly she started the stir, waking to her pretty boyfriend looking at her with stars in his eyes.

“Good morning baby.”

“Morning,” she grumbled, cuddling into him more, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay baby. I almost believed it too.”

“Doesn't excuse me for accusing you of cheating. Should have talked to you when I saw it.”

“Hey. The company didn't even tell me till yesterday and I knew you had already seen it. I know you get in your head sometimes but, next time you see a dating rumor about me, talk to me.”

“Don't want any more rumors about you.”

“They asked me if I wanted to confirm our relationship. Think that’d keep the dating rumors at bay.” Chan smiled and tilted her face up to him, placing a quick kiss on her lips. “If you don't want to, that's fine baby. But I love you either way. You’re the only one I see a future with.”

Y/n teared up a bit hearing him say that. She cupped his cheeks and pulled him back into a kiss. Chan smiled and pulled her closer to him, moving his lips in sync with hers before pulling away and resting his forehead against hers.

“Tell Stay about us. I’m okay with the world knowing about us.” Y/n told him

“Think you're just being possessive baby,” Chan joked.

“Says you,” Y/n laughed at him

“I’ll call them later. Right now I need to make up for not being around for a week.”

Chan kissed her again and rolled her onto her back, smothering her in kisses and cuddles.

M. LIST ✧ TIP JAR

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yourlocalstranger123 · 10 months

Text

||Mermaid Miguel||

Artist: NikSaf (or NikSaf_art) app: Twitter

Note: I'm using a translator for Spanish. You can correct me if you want. [The way I made this fic so random]

When it said: "I can't eat raw fish" (but, for sure, we're gonna eat some raw fish 🤭) [help. I'm being held hostage by my friend unless I type this. Help]

Part 2 —

Honestly. You were just on a small land, but enough resources to live at least. You're the only person who lives there, but some people visit left and right sometimes. You had a very calm and peaceful life until you accidentally....fish out a VERY big....fish?

You dragged him up even though he was a little heavy with both of your arms hooked with his or just. Straight up carrying him princess style. (Or even dragging him by the tail)

You. Were. Stunned.....you fished out a Merman?! Honestly, you thought mermaids were just fairytales, but I guess not since you're seeing one right now! (Damn, but this one is a hot lookin fish— I mean. Merman)

You were panicking. Should you run? Or check if it's alive? Ask him if he's ok? Wait. Can he even speak english? Or can he even speak at all??? While you were in the abyss of your thoughts, the unknown merman just stared at you.

When you finally collected your thoughts, you felt water spashing on you, well. Not that much. It's more like sprinkling since he's just shaking his hair from the water. He suddenly backed away from you, claws open. (Wait....fish has claws?—)

You put both of your hands in the air as a sign of peace. Not wanting to be looked as a threat. He tilted his head and just slowly backed away, slipping back into the water. Welp, that's gonna be the last time you'll ever see such a beauty again.

You laid there, fishing rod in your hand as you wait for a fish to pull on the string. Basking in the sunlight in such comfort that you could fall asleep if it wasn't for a certain stare burning a hole through you...

Miguel frowning as he watched you just sitting there. Not even bothering to look who was staring at you and just letting them. (Him)

He wonders why you're just. There. You don't even bother going back to that place called a city. You just. Stayed. He's been actually stalking watching you for a while. Waiting for the moment for you to leave to make his heart stop racing and ache.

But not for a single moment, you never left. He even tried many tactics to make you leave, like leaving fish blood, dead bodies of ocean animals, or anything! But. You just...shrugged.

He became increasingly interested in you. Even to the point his tail is wagging like a dog waiting for its owner excitedly. He found out you fell asleep as he sneakily went up to you, dragging his body with his arms. Finally, getting a good look on you, he felt memorized.

Before he left, he tried nuzzling his face to yours, feeling the soft flesh against his. Just like how he saw other humans showing physical affection to each other. Feeling satisfied, he left in a swift motion before you woke up.

The next day, you decided to fish again as it's now your hobby since it's been a bit boring ever since you came to the land. You flinched when you felt a hand that felt like it was soaked in water, taking off your hat that was covering your face.

You see the same handsome merman, looking at you in curiosity. Pausing as you don't know what to do. You put your hand out for him since he kept staring at it as if interested. He slowly and softly put his head on your hand. Nuzzling it as his tail seemed to swish left to right in a wagging motion.

You were about to say something until he went back into the water and after a few minutes, he rose up from the water with a fish in his mouth. He went closer to you, reaching for your lap as he dropped the fish in your hands.

"You....want me to eat this?"

He nodded. Oh. Wait. Seems like he knows english-

You just put it back behind your back, "thanks. I will, uhh, eat it later."

He frowned. Making you feel very nervous. So you just tried walking away to get things to maybe make a fireplace so you can at least cook it to make it edible for you. He noticed this and grabbed your wrist, thinking that your leaving him.

He pulled you over to him, hugging you tightly and not letting go. "Uhh...Mermaid man, im trying to-"

"My name is....Miguel. Not Mermaid Man."

You were stunned. He could also speak? You patted his head as he snuggled you closer.

"no me dejes solo...por favor?"

You paused. Thinking what to do. You'll just simply tell him, "I can't eat raw fish, pretty boy."

He paused at the mention to him as pretty boy. He quickly lets you go, looking away so you can't see the blush on his face. You quietly went away, getting some wood for the fireplace.

After you come back, you see him, miguel in the water, waiting for you. You patted your lap as Miguel hesitantly but hurryingly comes over to you. He flinched when you put a wet towel on his neck where his gills were but slowly got comfortable. (I think Mermaids need their gills to not be dry so they can breathe)

He watches you cook the fish and take a bite out of it. You offered one to him as he took a bite out of it. After a few minutes, he tugged your sleeves. Looking at you as if waiting for you to feed him again. Sighing, you broke off a piece and fed it to him.

Maybe living with a Merman isn't so bad after all.

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multifandomgirl08 · 7 months

Text

Something Bad, Something Good [Mini Verstappen Series]

Dad!Max Verstappen x Fiancée!Reader

Summary: Reader deals with the haters on Twitter, Nico calls Reader Mama. Max claps back at the haters on Instagram like the malewife that he strives to be.

Warning(s): slander of reader on Twitter (+ some people not being mean on Twitter at the end), fluff, Mixed formatting (Story + Social Media)

A/N: This was a request from this ask and was sent in by anon. I felt it was important to show that everything in life is give and take and I hope that this showed that.

11/12/2023 A/N: The last social media post was updated to match reader's face claim

Words: 2k

Previous Part → Next Part Mini Verstappen Masterlist

You had seen it on twitter and it wasn’t long before you were down the rabbit hole. It had showed up on your Twitter feed when you opened the cursed app,

It started with a simple tweet and took you no time to find the source.

It was speculation that you had grown used to. But that didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt that people thought that you were using Max because he had money. You knew that it probably wasn't just the small group of people on Twitter. It never was. There would always be people that wouldn't like that you were with Max. It was just the inevitable.

You had closed your phone when Nico had come up to you with one of his toy cars in hand.

“Are you sad Mimi?” Nico asked.

“No, Nico I’m not sad.” You reached for him before he moved to sit in your lap.

Nico didn’t need to know that people on the internet liked to be assholes for no real reason at times. They talked what they didn’t know about, and speculated on the obvious. Just another day of living in the 21st century.

“Someone wasn’t being nice to me. But, I have you and Papa, grandma, and Auntie Vic. So I should be okay.” You kissed the side of Nico’s head before he curled up with you on the couch to watch something.

You would be okay. They were just comments on a screen, as long as Max didn't find out it would be okay.

"Okay." he muttered before laying his head on your shoulder. You were still a bit jet lagged from getting back from your trip with Max and decided to close your eyes while the movie played on the TV.

“Papa,” Nico said. “Is Mama sad?”

Max looked up from his phone to see Nico in the living room.

They had only been back from their trip for a few days and Y/N had left to go get groceries with his mom. Sophie was leaving in the morning so Y/N insisted on cooking tonight before they dropped her off at the airport tomorrow.

Nico had never called Y/N mama before, not even when they had gotten back from their vacation, and told Nico that he and Y/N would be getting married.

“You called Y/N Mama, you haven’t before.” Max wanted to know why. Why now?

He knew that Nico had grown quite attached to Y/N after she had moved in with them. Nico liked spending time with Y/N. Nico had thrown a fit before they had left for their vacation because he would be without Y/N for a few weeks. His mom had called him once they had gotten to The Bahamas saying that Nico wanted Mimi to come home and had been crying since seeing Max's plane take off.

Nico gave a shrug of his shoulders. Maybe Nico was too young to understand the concept of a mother.

Nico walked away before pulling out one of the children’s books that he would read to Nico before bed. The story had a very basic structure that would appeal to Nico’s mind. It was about a mother lion taking care of her cubs.

Nico’s finger ran over the picture of the lions on the page before stopping on the mother lion. “She’s their Mama, like Mimi is mine. She takes care of me...” Nico trailed off.

He felt his phone buzz next to him, but didn’t check right away to focus on Nico. He pulled him into his arms and then to sit him on his knee.

“Nico, you know that you can call Y/N Mama, right?” He said to his son in Dutch.

Nico nodded.

“I’m sure that it would make her happy if you did.” Nico didn't say anything to Max for a moment. Max saw him nod.

"When is ...Mama coming home?" Nico slowly said, as if he was trying it out for the first time. Letting the word roll off his tongue, and then assessed if he liked it before giving a small nod that Max would have missed if he wasn't looking.

“Soon,” He said. "Why do you think Mama is sad?" He couldn't help but think back to what Nico said when he first came into the room.

Nico gave a small shrug, "She was looking at her phone yesterday. She looked sad."

Max was a little surprised. Why would Y/N be sad about something on her phone? He would ask her when she got home.

“Come, we’ll go play with some of your toys until she and grandma get home.” He was going to leave it at that. Nico didn't need to worry about that.

He checked his phone to see a text from Lando while Nico went to get out the toys that he wanted to play with.

Nico took things out of boxes while Max quickly texted Lando back,

Max quickly locked his phone turning to Nico to give him all of his attention to play with the mini model cars he had.

This was the why Y/N had been sad, she had seen what people were saying about her on Twitter. He wasn't going to even look because he knew it would just make him angry.

Max and Nico had played for a while before Max asked Nico if he would put all of his toys back.

It wasn’t much later that Max heard the front door open to Y/N and his mom walk through the door with groceries in their hands. Max moved from his spot on the couch and helped take the bags into the kitchen.

Max hugged his mom before pulling Y/N close, he cupped her cheek for a moment before kissing her on the lips. He just needed her to know that he was here for her if she needed anything.

“Hi.” He muttered feeling her pull away.

“Hey.” She said back. He tried to search her eyes to see if Nico was right. If she was sad, he couldn't see a trace of it at the moment.

There was the unmistakable sound of light feet against the hardwood floors.

Max and Y/N turned towards the sound to Nico standing just outside of the kitchen looking at them for a moment before running up to Y/N.

“Mama!�� He yelled, before his little arms locked around Y/N’s legs.

Y/N looked down at Nico dropping her hand into his hair.

Max could see the tears filling at the corners of her eyes, not expecting to hear that.

Max couldn’t help but look over at his mom, and could see the approval on her face. It wasn’t something that he needed from her, but he appreciated it nonetheless.

He could see that Y/N pushed away the stray tears that had managed to fall before he had reached over and kissed her forehead letting his hand rest on Nico’s shoulder. Max reached up to cup her chin again feeling the slight tremble of her bottom lip. She was trying to stop herself from crying.

As he looked at her he could see the silent thank you in her eyes. Her letting him know how grateful she is to him for letting her have this. To truly be Nico’s mother.

Y/N had kissed the top of Nico’s head before his mom had shooed them out of the kitchen so they could put the groceries away. Max quickly kissed Y/N on the lips before giving his mom a hug and took Nico with him out of the kitchen.

Y/N had started dinner not long after and they ended up eating some pasta dish that took what felt like no time to cook. Through dinner every time Nico asked Y/N something it started with him calling her Mama. Y/N couldn’t wipe the smile off her face for the rest of the night.

Once Max was done clearing the table after dinner he quickly wrote a message and then posted it to his instagram story, from what he remembers his social media manager told him. It was easy enough. Once they were both up and he had checked them twice for spelling, he had left his phone on it's charger for the rest of the night.

He would never allow a few anonymous people to speak ill of his son's mother, Max loved her too much for that.

maxverstappen1 has added to their story

Sophie had called it an early night so she could finish packing and offered to put Nico to bed. Neither he nor Y/N refused.

Max had tried to get comfortable in bed but he couldn't manage it.

"What's going on?" Y/N said as she climbed into bed. "You’re never like this."

"I got a text from Lando today. Apparently, people on Twitter were talking about you." Max watched as Y/N stopped in her tracks, slowly sitting back against pillows.

She knew, she had seen those comments.

"I'm assuming that you saw them." She said.

"No, I didn't.” He didn’t need to see it to know that Lando was telling him the truth. “Why didn't you tell me?" He asked.

"Because it doesn't matter." Max wanted to fight her on that. People on the internet shouldn't have a right to say things like that about her.

“Y/N,” He started to say.

"I'm his mother Max, Nico sees me as his mom. That's why none of those comments matter." She continued. "I never knew how much I needed to hear him call me that until he did today."

Max could only guess for Y/N how different it was to actually hear Nico call her Mama for the first time. Max remembers the first time that Nico had called him Da. It was barely audible, but Nico had looked right at him when he had said it. He wasn't sure if he was able to breathe after that.

He let out a deep breath before opening his arms for her. She pushed back the sheets resting herself against his side, playing with the loose thread at the hem of his grey t-shirt.

“Mijn leeuwin,” He started to say. “Is this something that you want?” He asked.

“Do you want to legally be his mother?” They had talked about this months ago after he already had gone to get the ring made. Making it legal was just another step for them to fully be a family.

“I don’t need to legally be his mom Max.” She stiffened in his arms, seeing the reflection of the diamond ring just out of the corner of his eyes.

“Do you want to though?” He echoed. He knew that she didn’t need it, she hadn’t in the last few months since they had talked about it the first time. She had never pushed for Nico to call her anything other than the nickname that he had for her.

He looked to see her slightly nod, her eyes glassy with the threat of tears ready to spill from her eyes.

“I’ll give it to you.” He could make it happen, a few calls to his lawyer, looking through the papers that his ex left him about giving up her parental right to Nico, talking to Raymond and it could all be settled just after the wedding.

“Max.” She dropped her head to his shoulder. She didn’t have to say anything else but his name. As she looked up at him again he could see how grateful she was for letting her have the option to legally become Nico’s mother.

Neither of them had to say anything in that moment. It was settled, they were going to start the process of Y/N adopting Nico.

It wasn’t long after that they both fell asleep curled up around each other. Exhausted from the high emotions of the day.

maxverstappen1

Liked by sophiekumpen, victoriaverstappen and 523,345 others

maxverstappen1 Miji Familie

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August 19, 2024

taglist: @karmabyfernando, @barcagirly, @sachaa-ff, @iamahallucinationnn, @musingsbyshreya, @glow-ish, @nonsensical-nonsence, @fanboyluvr, @champomiel

#mini verstappen series #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #mv1 x reader #mv1 imagine #mv33 imagine #formula 1 imagine #formula one imagine #f1 imagines

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gejo333 · 3 months

Text

Art credit: PIYO @Oz_174 on Twitter/X

An Unexpected Match XI

Pt. 1 Pt. 12

DBF/DILF Miguel O’Hara x female reader

Summary: Miguel’s worst nightmare comes true😰😰😰

I’m actually shocked for how quick I got this chapter out, lol. I had to add this photo above it’s so cute! I imagine these would be photos Y/n took on her phone of Miguel and Gabi. I think the top two would be her screen saver🥰 Also just want to say again thank you for the 800 follows! Your likes, comments and reblogs mean the world to me!💕💕💕

I apologize for any grammatical mistakes I missed.

Enjoy🥰

Wc: 4.2k

————————————————————————

The morning of Gabi's Birthday. Before the accident:

"Goodbye cariño. Have a nice day with classes. I'll see you later."

"Goodbye. Have a good day at work. I'll pick up Gabi from school."

After Miguel left for work and Gabi was finished with her breakfast you cleaned up the counter and washed the dishes.

"Ok baby bug. Let's get you ready for school." You help her down from the chair before going upstairs to get her dressed. Her outfit was already laid out as she specifically wanted to wear this one dress to school for her birthday. Once you helped her get into it she giggled and twirled around as she watched the skirt part spin with her.

After doing her hair, you check the time eyes widen as you realize you don't have enough to look presentable today. So you decided to wear a matching pair of sweats and sweatshirt, Uggs, and put your hair in a cute messy bun.

"Ok let's head out baby bug, we're running a bit late." You grab her lunch and water bottle and put it in her backpack, hanging that on your shoulder as you pick her up, carrying her on your side hip as you head to the garage to your car.

You strap her in to her car seat in the back before getting in to the driver's side. Once you get out of the garage and begin to drive you look in the rear view mirror to see a smiling Gabi starring out the window.

"Hey, baby bug?"

"Yeah mama?"

"Papa and I are going to send out the invites to your birthday party that's next week."

"Yay! Will everyone be dressed as a princess or superhero?"

"Yep! Or both if they want to."

"I didn't know you could be both! Can I be a princess superhero?" Gabi gasped when she heard your words, which made you chuckle slightly. So cute.

"Of course you can, sweetheart. I'll come up with an idea for what we should do for your costume and we can go find something after school today. How does that sound?"

"Yay! Can it be a surprise for Papa?"

"Sure baby bug. I will have to tell him though that we won't meet him right after school. But that's it's for a surprise." You chuckle from her silly request. You made a mental note to text Miguel the update when you got to your class.

After talking more about her upcoming birthday party you made it to her school. You quickly get out in drop off area to unbuckle her from the car. After helping her out of the car you help put her backpack on.

"Ok, have fun today Birthday Girl! I'll see you at pick up! Love you my baby bug." You kneel down to giver her a proper hug which she happily returns before running off to her drop-off line to see her friends.

Once you saw she was with her teacher you drove off towards your university to attend your classes for the day.

———————

You were done with your last class for the day and had an hour before you had to pick up Gabi. You sat back on a lawn chair that were spread through out campus.

"Ugh, I can't with this semester. It's killing me already." Stephanie groaned as she sat in the chair next to you. You both came out of the same exam, not knowing if you did well or not.

"Steph, why did you decide to take 18 credits for your last semester?"

"Girl, I had too or I would have to pay for another semester. Enough about school, how's it going with you and Miguel's relationship being public?"

She turned her head to look at you.

"As expected everyone's so nosy and either being a bitch or an asshole about it. I haven't talked to my parents since the holiday party. But it's not like they are eager to reach out to me."

"Yeah Jack told me that your parents are going nuts still over it. Ugh speaking of your brother, he's being so annoying lately. I love him. But if he leaves a plate in the sink one more time, I'm going to tackle him." Stephanie groaned in frustration.

"Well, Miguel lately has been very insistent on wanting to have kids. Did you now that he expected to get me pregnant this year so we could have a baby next year? And then when I told him when I wanted to have kids he wasn't happy about it. So we had to compromise and agree on three years from now. Steph! I don't know if I'll be ready to have a baby in three years. I don't think I would be able to handle a career fully by then."

"Damn, three years from now. That's crazy. But I guess I get why you agreed. He is older than you. That is probably the one downfall to being with someone older."

"I don't now if it's a downside. We just are at two different points in our lives, but we love each other. I don't know, maybe deep down I knew I would probably be starting a family soon when I began dating him. And it's not like I don't want a baby now. I have the baby fever. I just worry that sometimes i still feel like a kid myself, despite being an adult and I just don't know if I'll be a good mother." Stephanie places her hand over yours and smiles.

"Y/n you will be an amazing mom. You do such a great job with Gabi."

"Thanks Steph. And your going to be a amazing aunt."

"Hell yeah I am!" She said before you both laughed from her comment.

After talking and relaxing a bit longer with Stephanie it was time to part ways as you get back in your car and drive to Gabi's school to pick her up.

Due to traffic you arrive a few minutes from her finishing class. When you go to pick-up your brows furrow as you see the kindergarten class but a new teacher, and no Gabi. Confused you decide to park the car and walk to get her.

"Hi, where is the regular kindergarten teacher?"

The woman smiles at you. "I'm the new teacher assistant. I started today. She had to leave early today so I took over. Who are you picking up?"

"Gabriella O'Hara. Where is she actually? She's usually here when I pick her up."

"I'm sorry but Gabi was already picked up." The woman said as she checks her clipboard. Your brows furrowed from her response.

"Her father came to pick her up? He didn't tell me he was going to."

"It wasn't her father. It was her mother." The TA's words made your vision almost black out. Your heart felt like it stopped and your body felt numb.

"What do you mean her mother picked her up? I'm Gabriella's mother. You let my daughter go with a complete stranger?! Who did you let take my daughter?!" Your voice raised.

"Her name was Sofia." The TA hid behind her clipboard.

"When did she pick her up?"

"Like 5 minutes ago. They drove that way." The woman shaking pointed her finger in the direction that the car went.

"You and the school will be hearing from our lawyer. I'll be back once I get my daughter back. You better hope I fucking get her." You get into the TA's face glaring down at her before you sprint to your car and turn it on and start driving faster than you have ever been.

All you could hear was your heart beating deafeningly loud in your ears. You felt physically sick. You pick up your phone as you call 911.

"911 what's your emergency?"

"Hi m-my daughter. W-well my step daughter. She-she was abducted from her school. The teacher just let a stranger take her!" Tears fall down your cheeks as you feared that you might never see her again.

After giving the police all the information they finally dispatched a car and sent out an amber alert. You asked if you could call your boyfriend, her father, which they said you could.

You hear the earth shattering noise of the amber alert blare on your phone. You tried to wipe away the tears from your eyes as you drove, as they become unbearably blurry disrupting your vision.

You call Miguel. It rang from some time before...

"Hi this is Miguel O'Hara. I'm currently unavailable at the moment. Please leave a voicemail and I will get back to you."

You call again. Same thing . And again.

Same response. You then remember he would be in back to back meetings all day and probably has his phone turned off or on silent.

You call again. "Please answer Miguel. Please!"

Another automated message. You cry out in frustration. "Fuck! Where did that bitch take my daughter?"

You drive for what feels like forever, a piece of your heart tearing away every minute you did have her in your arms.

"Oh my god." Your gasp as your eyes widen. Two cars ahead was the same piece of shit car Sofia drove. Not caring about breaking the rules you drive over the spread limit as you get in the lane beside her car. And if the universe couldn't be anymore helpful the light turn red. You ripped yourself from your seat and out of the car as you ran in front of her car.

Sofia's eyes widen in surprise before returning back to her usual glare. She continuously honks the horn. The light turned green but you didn't move es ring other people to honk the car.

"Hey! What's going on here! You're holding up traffic lady!" Said a random man.

"Sir please. This woman kidnapped my daughter. I won't let this woman out of my sight without my daughter. Please, can you please help!" You begged as tears streamed down your face. You just wanted your baby girl back.

A few other people left there cars curious to see what was causing the traffic jam.

"Oh honey. What are you doing?" Said a random older woman as she walked up to you.

"Please can someone help me get my daughter. I can see she's scared. Please."

The man ripped the car door open, luckily that woman was dumb enough to keep her doors unlocked. Sirens can heard growing in the back. Sofia rolled down her window. "Omg this bitch is crazy. That's my daughter. She's lying!"

"Mama!" Gabi cried at the top of her lungs as she squirmed through the man and woman's arms and towards you. As the sirens grew closer your were too slow to see Sofia reverse before heads towards you at full speed. Gabi was right in front of the car with you. You pushed her out of the way, luckily she didn't fall.

The last thing you saw was the fearful look on Gabi's face before everything went black.

————————————

"W-what did you say?" Miguel voice was barely above a whisper.

"Y/n was hit by a car. We also want to say that your daughter is safe with us."

"Wait, what? What happened to my daughter and girlfriend?!" Miguel voice raised fear and anger taking over his mind.

"A woman by the name Sofia abducted your daughter at her school. Y/n had called the police and chased after them. When she found your daughter, to get away from the police Sofia ran over y/n to escape from them."

"I-I'm on my way." Miguel ended the call as he ran towards his car and drove to the hospital his heart ached. He couldn't lose you. He wouldn't be able to handle it.

He arrived to the hospital and ran into the emergency ward. In the crowd he immediately spotted his daughter. "Gabi!" When hearing her father's voice she ran from the social worker watching her and into his arms as she wailed.

"Mama's hurt!" She cried in his arms as he wrapped his arms around her and kiss the top of her head, relieved that his daughter was safe. However the ache in his heart was still fully there at the thought of you being critically injured. "I-I saw a car h-hit Mama! I want Mama!" She cried. Bearing his daughter's wails brought tears to his eyes as he try to call her down, which was difficult as he was no where near calm.

A while later a doctor in surgical attire walked towards him. "Mr. O'Hara?"

"Y-yes."

"We just finished surgery with Y/n. However she still is in critical care. We-"

"Is it p-possible if we can talk in private?" Miguel gestured towards his daughter's who cries were only getting worse from the doctor's news. The doctor nodded, "follow me this way."

Miguel handed Gabi to the social worker, however she wouldn't let go of him. "N-no!"

"Princesa, Papa needs to know what's happening with Mama. Please go with the social worker. I'll be right back. I promise." Gabi listened as she allowed him to give her to the social worker.

When they were in a private space, the doctor signed. " Would you like to see her? Just as a warning, it won't be a pretty sight."

Miguel could only nod as he was led to the ICU. When he entered the room, his heart shattered. He rushed over to your side as he got on his knees. His hand shook out of control as he intertwined his fingers in your limp hand.

"Dios...mi amor please por favor fight through this. I'm going to be right here. I won't leave your side. Please don't leave me. I won't be able to live without you. Gabi wouldn't be ok. I won't be ok. I love you so so so much."

Miguel didn't realize how long he was by your bedside, when he felt a hand rest on his shoulder.

"Hey." Said Gabriel.

"Thanks for coming to get Gabi. I-I just can't leave y/n side." Miguel looked up to his brother. Gabriel's heart broke as he saw the disheveled appearance of his brother.

"Please try to get some rest. You know she would want that."

"No. I'm not leaving. I'll sleep in the chair."

"Ok." Gabriel said before looking at Miguel one more time before leaving the room.

————��—-

Your eyes slowly open, closing once from the bright light before opening them again. You gaze at your surroundings. Your were in a hospital? Right, you were hit by a car.

To your left, a head with disheveled brown curls laying on your bed. You slowly smile as you lift your hand as you gently brush some of the hair out of his face. Almost immediately, his reddish-brown eyes stare up at you wide. You remove you hand as he shoots up.

"Y/n?"

"Hey" you say voice really hoarse from the lack of talking. Miguel intertwined his fingers in yours as he kissed your hands and then pressed butterfly kisses all over your face. Over-the moon to see you awake.

"I'm so glad your awake. I knew your would wake up." Tears spilled down his cheeks, which brought worry to your face as you lifted your hand to caress his cheek as you wiped away his tears. He leaned into your touch.

"Your acting like I was a sleep for a while." You lightly chuckle, coughing slightly from your dry throat. "How long was I out?"

"Two weeks." Your eyebrows raised slightly, surprised by his answer. It seemed like you just were hit after rescuing Gabi.

"Is Gabi ok?" Concern was etched in your tone.

"She is. Perfectly fine because of you. Witness' said that you saved her from a car hitting both of you. I can't believe that damn woman hurt you. But she's getting the justice she deserves. She'll be in prison majority of her life for kidnapping Gabi and harming you." Miguel placed a kissed to your forehead before sitting back down.

Concern grew on your face again as you notice the large dark circles under is eyes. "When was the last time you got some proper rest?"

Before he could answer your question the doctor came in and walked towards your bedside as he checked your vitals.

"Glad you were able to wake up Ms. L/n. We weren't sure when you would. You've been healing very well the past two weeks. One thing though, the way you were hit by the car almost made you lose your uterus. It was touch and go for a bit during surgery, but we were able to save you from having another surgery . You'll be able to go home in a day or two. I'll let you rest." The doctor smiled before leaving the room.

His words made your heart beat slightly faster. You might have lost your uterus? Wow, Universe, really trying to tell me something, huh?

"You should get some re-" Miguel was interrupted by familiar voices entering the room. It was your parents and brothers. After having a near death experience you would think you would be happy to see your parents again. But honestly they feel like just as much of a pain as Sofia was.

"Miguel." Said Sam as he walked in behind his wife and gave a frown towards Miguel.

"Sam." Miguel returned his same expression.

"Sweetheart you're awake! I'm so glad you're ok." Said your mother as she walks to the other side of the bedside. She tried to hold your hand but your remove your from hers, causing her to frown.

"Sweetie?"

You look to Miguel, tired eyes asking for him for help you. Knowing exactly what want, he said, "hey, she's pretty tired. Maybe come back after she's rested."

Your mother shot him a glare, "how about you come back after she's rested."

"Mom, y-you and Dad should leave." You spoke up.

"But I'm your mom, sweetie. Everyone needs their mom when they are hurt."she tried to hold your hand again, but once again you removed your hand from hers.

"Well you haven't been acting like a mom ever since the summer. I only want people who aren't going to hold immature grudges based off who I love. So unless you can accept that and apologize, then leave." It did hurt a little to see your mother's hurt expression. But you had to be brave, how she and your father have been acting is not right, and you're not going to have anything to do with it.

"Fine. Have it your way." Your mother frowned as she turned around and left. Before your father left he gently squeezed your hand, "glad you're alive and well." Before leaving the room.

Your brothers started a bit longer catching up with you before leaving as well.

Time seem to go by fast as you were already being discharged from the hospital.

As Miguel helped you get into the passenger side of the car, you stopped him. "Wait, they never came by our room to take my insurance and fill out stuff for the bills."

Miguel smiled as he brushed some of the hair from your face, " no need to worry about that, cariño. I already paid for it."

Your eyes widen as you looked at him slightly annoyed but that automatically leave as you give him a smile. "You really didn't have to do that. I would have tortured some out myself. But thank you. That was really sweet of you." You caress his cheek.

"No need to thank me, mi amor. You're the love of my life and my family. I'm going to take care of my family." He kiss you on the lips before closing your car door and hoping you in the drivers side.

When you arrived home, Miguel decided to carry you inside the house and up to your shared bedroom despite your slight protests, as you knew he hadn't had proper rest in two weeks.

"No need to worry about me. I'm alright, hermosa."

"Well, I'm going to worry about you and fuss over you because your the love of my life. And I want to make sure you're ok and well. Now laid down next to me and get some rest. You said Gabriel is going to drop off Gabi tomorrow." Miguel smiled down at you as he listened to your words and laid down next to you. He gently wrapped his arm around you and brought you close to him careful not to bother any of your stitches. Feeling his warmth the fatigue washed over you as you fell asleep.

The next day you woke up to the sounds of people talking down stairs. When you began to wake up a bit more you realized Miguel wasn't in bed. As the other voice grew closer a smile came to your face as you realized who it was.

"Mama!" Gabi ran into the room as she jumped on the bed, followed by Miguel running in and catching her before she barreled into you. "Be careful hija. Remember what I told you, Mama is still healing. So we have to be gentle around her."

He let go of her and put her on the bed when he knew she had understood. Your smile widens as you stretch your arm out wanting a hug from her, which she did extra carefully, as she took her father's words into account.

"I missed you a lot Mama."

"I miss you too my baby bug. I'm so relieved that you're safe and ok."

After some time you and Miguel noticed she fell asleep, as he lifted her up and took her to her bedroom to rest. When he came back he sat on the bed next to you.

"Did you get any rest?"

From not getting an answer you lightly glare at him with a pout. You move closer to him which he gladly appreciates. "Miggy, please get some rest. I won't be able to rest if you don't get proper sleep."

"I just have to finish one thing." He said as he took out his phone and started typing away on it, resting your head in his lap, you could see slightly what it said on his screen. Your eyes widen when you saw that it was your finacial portal to your university.

"Miguel, why are you in my financial portal?"

Miguel looked down at you with a pleading gaze. "Mi, amor don't get upset but while you were in a coma I paid for the rest of your university...and your student loans."

You sit up slowly from laying on his lap as you give him light glare and a frown. "Miguel...I told you I would handle them. First off how did you even gain access to them? You know how I felt about you paying for that."

"I know you're upset. But did you expect to get hurt in a car accident? No. You can't work, so I knew your wouldn't be able to pay your monthly payments. I have more than enough money to cover it. And I know you feel bad about it. But I'm going to take care of you. And plus it's down. Nothing can be reversed."

"Well, thank you. You really are an amazing boyfriend. But if you think you're not going to go unpunished for doing it without my knowledge. Though I can't have sex right now, oh once I'm cleared. We're still not having sex." You pout as you turn the away from him in bed. You heard him chuckle as he moved closer to you his chest pressed against your back as he kiss the side of your head, "alright hermosa. That's fair enough. It's was all worth it."

"You say that now."

——————————-

Two weeks later

“Happy birthday to you…happy birthday to you… happy birthday dear Gabi…happy birthday to you!” Sang the crowd of kids and parents as Miguel carries the princess superhero themed cake with six candles in front of her. You smiled and cheered as she blew out all her candles.

You had found out that Gabi wanted to postpone her birthday party until you had woken up and felt better. Of course you felt extremely guilty that she had to wait so long to celebrate, but she would always reassure you with a big hug and saying, “it wouldn’t be fun, if you wouldn’t be there to celebrate with me Mama.”

Tears brimmed the corner of your eyes as you watched her and her friends jump in excitement in their mixture of princess and superhero costumes as they wait to get a slice of cake. You smiled as you saw Miguel hand her a slice, kissing the top of her head before she walked over to the dinning room table with her friends. You looked at Miguel as he gazed happily at your daughter. Miguel then turned to meet you gaze as you could feel the love in his gaze and smile from across the room as he mouthed the words, I love you. Which you did the same.

You thanked the universe that you weren’t taken away from them and can still live your life to the fullest by their side.

————————————————————————

Hope you enjoyed the chapter🥰

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non-stop-imagines · 6 months

Text

Mírame

From this request!💖 And a little help from this too 😚

Word Count: ~10.1k words w/ smau

Pairing: Carlos Sainz Jr. x Black Rapper!Reader ( JT face claim)

Warning: Smut, p in v, fingering, forced eye contact, a little bit of an innocence kink made its way in there, Twitter Environment, rude comments, mention of food Minors DNI!!! 18+

A/N: AH HA! ITS DONE AND IM SO HAPPY! I have said this so many times and I mean it everytime, thank you, thank you, thank you so much to my 🌶️ anon. For trusting me with this request, for checking in on me, and most of all for being so patient. I hope you are doing well and I hope you enjoy this. 💖 I hope you all enjoy this. I am trying to work my way to reopening my requests because I truly find pure joy in reading the ideas that you guys have. Love you all!!💖💛💖💛💖

A/N 2: All of the pictures used for the smau portions are all from pinterest and are not my own product.

Masterlist

___________

You and Carlos stroll back over to his car, parked a block away from the park that Carlos took you to, Jardins Saint-Martin, just on the outskirts of Monaco. Since Carlos decided to ask you on this date at the last minute (it was about 11:00pm on Saturday, Monaco grand prix weekend), it was either this or his boat that probably was surrounded by fans in some fashion. Taking you to this park, and finding a place still open to buy ice cream before coming here, was Carlos' best shot at being alone with you.

"Sorry the date seemed so…basic. I wish I could've taken you somewhere fancier, but I was so nervous about asking you on a date that I didn't do it until late." He's been wanting to do this since he met you at the Miami Grand Prix. When he first saw you peeking into the Ferrari garage as a celebrity guest at the race, he had never plotted so quickly to get someone's number. You were…different. In a good way. You were dressed sexy yet classy, obviously comfortable in your own skin, and you weren't afraid to be expressive when talking with anyone. Heck, when you first talked to him, he could tell you were nervous, but it still did little to dull the fire in your conversation.

"So, this is yours, huh?" Carlos had led you into the open garage while everyone else focused on a different celebrity that had made their way over.

"Sí. Not what you expected, huh?" He smiles and watches you closely observe the race car, your eyes tracing its curves while Carlos' traced yours.

"To be honest, I don't know what I expected. I mean it tried to learn as much as I could about the sport once I learned I was invited, but I didn't really focus on the cars. Mainly teams, drivers, less technical stuff." You were rambling. You knew you were rambling, it always happened when you were around someone you found attractive. "But I do know that this does not look like any Ferrari I've seen." Mental facepalm. Of course not, it's a goddamn race car. You could feel your chest squeezing, scared that your awkward remark wouldn't elicit a response from the driver, but instead the faint sound of an exhaled chuckle shocks you.

"I know. It's smaller. And seems a bit less safe, but what do I know?" Your tension melts a bit as Carlos makes a joke just as terrible as yours. You continue observing the car, walking around and tilting your head, hair falling gently around your face.

"Sorry, I'm being so quiet. I just think it's so cool seeing one of these up close." You saunter back over to Carlos, eyes still on the car, not to observe it, but for the purpose of avoiding the intense eye contact that he was trying to initiate, mentally urging you to look at him.

"So, uh, you make music, no?" This gets you looking at him for a moment, only to answer the vague question.

"Uh, yeah. I'm a rapper. You probably haven't listened to my stuff, though. Probably not your speed." You flash a small smile then look away again, observing the car one last time before turning your attention to the rest of the garage. Little did you know, that smile knocked Carlos off his feet, and he wanted it to happen again.

"Maybe I have, maybe I haven't, but I would like to. Here." This brought your attention to his face then his phone that was unlocked and open for you to go to your music. "You can just add yourself."

"You know you could've done this yourself…" You smile to yourself as you search your name.

"I know, but now you can put your number in, too." You stopped what you were doing to look up at him, squinting and grinning.

"Ah, smooth. I see where the nickname comes from." You chuckle and go to do as told, adding your number to his contacts.

"Thank you. I'm glad you said it because if I said it, it would have been too cheesy." He exhales a laugh, searching your face for amusement, which he finds once you go to hand his phone back.

"You know, I would've given you my number if you just asked." You didn't know what to do with your hands. If you were bold, you would have allowed your hand to run along his toned arm, but you settled on just letting your hands be expressive as you spoke, lazily pointing an acrylic clad finger.

"Maybe, but this is more fun." Carlos smiled, a smile that accentuated his bottom lip, making you instinctively and stealthily dart your tongue out onto yours.

After the brief moment of the poorest example of attraction projecting body language imaginable, it was soon time for you to continue on to God knows where because you weren't paying attention before, and for Carlos to start Friday practice prep, even though he definitely wouldn't be paying attention. He would be thinking about how he was going to text you, call you, something.

It took him 3 days to text "Hi" and you 5 seconds to respond

Okay, so fire was an exaggeration, but you didn't know any better.

"I thought the date was nice!" You hesitantly reach out for his hand. The motion was initially instinctive, your hand acting on its own, and once you realized what you were doing, you began to pull back, but it was stopped and encased by Carlos' before it was fully retracted, and he continued the conversation like nothing happened.

"No, no. It could have been nicer. I just didn't give myself enough time." Your heart was racing, and this was when you realized you were still looking at entwined hands and not the man speaking to you, so you quickly refocused yourself.

"Really, I wouldn't know the difference anyway, I have nothing to compare it to." Carlos tilts his head quizzically at your implication so you continue to explain, chuckling. "I've never been on a date before."

"Wait, no? Haven't you had a boyfriend or something?" His thumb starts to move over your fingers and your brain short circuits, your eyes cutting back to your hand.

"Uh, no. No, I haven't. So I definitely don't know what I'm doing and I wouldn't know better as to whether or not this was the worst date a person could've ever had." You finally got your brain to work again and smiled nervously as you spoke, watching a look of disdain settle into Carlos' face.

"Well, I wouldn't say all of that, but…wow, I can not believe you've never had a boyfriend." You were greatly enjoying Carlos' shock, but you go on to explain a little.

"I've been focusing on my music career since I was 16, so someone would literally have had to hold a sign up in my face and shout that they like me for me to even consider the possibility of them wanting to go on a date with me." You giggle nervously, the disdain on his face shifting to curiosity as his eyes traced every part of your face over and over again.

"So would that be necessary now?" A grin tugs at the right side of his mouth and it seems like he keeps having to pull his eyes from your lips.

"No, that won't be necessary. Just a simple 'I like you' would be fine." Your laugh was looser this time, and you finally let loose a full smile, displaying shallow dimples and accentuating your lips. Carlos looked at you like a shooting star that had just whizzed by, disappearing into the horizon all mysterious and sparkly.

"Well, I like you, a lot. And I want to take you on more dates, and be whatever other first I can be for you." His grin slowly fades but it doesn't take away the sincerity in his eyes and his words, now unabashedly staring at your lips.

"Oh. Well i- I've, um, never, uh, kissed anyone before." There was obvious hesitation in your statement, knowing it was a bold move for you, slightly surprised at the smile that landed on Carlos' lips.

"I am so glad you said that." You knew what was coming, especially once you felt him pull you closer with your hand, beginning to lean in, but for some reason you failed to take any steps to reciprocate the action, eyes wide open, watching him lean in for the kiss but stop centimeters away. "It's better if you close your eyes, I promise." Carlos chuckles at the shocked face you looked at him with, his eyes still trained on your plump parted lips.

"Yeah, I know. I don't know why I didn't…let's-uh-try again." You pinched the bridge of your nose in embarrassment, resetting your brain to try the moment again. Eventually you gaze back up at him, first taking a moment to admire the man in front of you, failing at hiding a laughing grin while you got lost in his eyes.

Carlos, on the other hand, his mind was going berserk. The eyes you looked at him with were so innocent and trusting, even further indicated by how you, unprompted, fluttered your eyes closed prepared to try your first over kiss again. He had to indulge his own self for a moment, testing the waters to see if he could prove his theory, even the slightest bit, so he unnecessarily lifts your chin and tilts your head to your right, each move smooth and gentle, and with both moves you allowed yourself to follow the modification unhesitatingly, keeping your eyes closed. "Perfect." He finally leans down to kiss you, first just the soft press of each other's lips, you getting used to the foreign, intimate feeling, but after that moment Carlos slots his lips between yours and you try your best to keep up, mimicking his lip movements to the best of your ability. Carlos was considerate of the situation though and held off on the tongue, instead opting for manually lifting and wrapping your arms around his neck and then circling his own around your waist to make the kiss deeper. Your lips were glossy and pupils were dilated upon pulling away from the kiss, chest heaving with slow deep inhales.

"How was that?" The look you gave him seeked approval, or at least constructive criticism, on your kissing ability. Carlos just like that his opinion mattered so much to you.

"I feel like I should be asking you that, no?" He keeps a tight grip on you with one hand as he uses the other to gently rake through your hair, fingers going just deep enough to manipulate the top layer.

"Oh, well you've done this before. I'm the one that needs pointers." You move your arms to wrap them around Carlos' torso, giving your shoulders a rest

"You need no pointers." He leans down to give you another lip slotted kiss.

"Oh, thank you. I-uh- you're not too bad yourself." Carlos just chuckles at your awkward comment and leans in for more kisses, testing the waters more and more to see how deep he could make them, how much more tongue you would allow, and smiling at how you didn't know what to do with the small introduction to the appendage. It was you who had to break up the moment, wedging your arms between you two. "Don't you have a curfew or something? The race is tomorrow right?"

Carlos wasn't going to lie, he completely forgot it was a race weekend. He was so enamored by you just being here, how when you were with him you exuded a, now more understood, innocence that is hidden behind the nature of your fame. "Not if I pretend I don't." He shines a devious grin at you, and you have to reboot your brain to remember what you were going to say.

“No, I’m not gonna be the reason you break curfew or whatever.” You try and wave away his eyes that were trained on your face, but his lips approaching your neck, and the reflexive tilt of your head to give him more surface area, shut you right up.

“Fine, I guess you’re right." He says with his lips brushing deliciously against your ear, then pulls his face away and extends his arm past its previous home if your waist to open the car door for you. He has to move his face into your line of sight, which was off in the distance just past his left shoulder as you contemplated your situation, and use his eyes to motion you into the car.

"Thank you again, for tonight. I had a nice time." You spoke as you buckled your seatbelt, realizing that was something you did often when you were able to, occupying yourself with something else to avoid having to look Carlos in the eye. He wasn't going to stand for that though, so once he was in and the car was started, he turned his body to you and tilted your chin up so you would look at him.

"That's good to hear." He brings you forward for a kiss, again testing your response to the addition of his tongue to the equation, liking the effort that you put into following his lead. He didn't worry, though. He knew he had time with you. "When you get to the paddock tomorrow, go to the Ferrari building. I'll make sure they have a garage pass for you." You just nod, eyes dazed and trained on his lips before flicking up to his own deep brown irises, and he couldn't help leaning in for another brief make out session. After kissing you the first time, your first time, he became immediately obsessed with it, trying to teach you and get you to follow his lead each time, and loving that you were a fast learner.

After some driving, more kissing, and stealthily making it back to the hotel room, "Good nights" and confirmation for tomorrow's plans were made and, eventually (because Carlos wouldn't leave unless you looked at him while talking to him) you both were in your assigned rooms, wondering what would come of that night.

yn_music

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yn_music Red on me like Ferrari 💋🌶️🏎️

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user1 New music soon? 👀♥️

>yn_music We workin, don't you worry boo💋

>user1 I literally screamed and threw my phone

>yn_music Hope your phone's okay 😬

normani It's giving 90s dream girl 📷♥️

>yn_music 💋

user2 Uhhhh, Carlos, whatchu doin here blud?

>user3 Apparently they seemed pretty close during the Miami GP

>user2 She was at the Miami GP!?!?

>user3 Yeah! And there were seen in the garage Thursday talking and possibly exchanging numbers 😶

>user2 This is the best possible wag announcement I've ever experienced

user4 I refuse to believe that Carlos Sainz is seeing someone that makes music like hers 🤷🏽‍♀️

>user2 why are you even here

"I'm sorry. Can you just explain to me one more time why you stopped me?" You let your fingers just barely run through the top of your hair, taking a deep breath and glaring at the man standing in front of you.

"We have received a couple of complaints regarding your attire and so we have to ask you to cover up." The man in the bright yellow security jacket looked just as done as you did, but you didn't care.

"Okay, I'm not trying to be difficult or anything, but I have seen outfits much worse than mine and yet I'm the one that gets stopped? I just don't…" Your response may have been directed to the security guard, but it was more for your own sanity trying to keep yourself calm. "Respirar" You repeat the Spanish word taught to you by Carlos for whenever you felt anxious or overwhelmed, inhaling as you say it and then releasing a long exhale. "Let me just-Do you think we could go over to the Ferrari motorhome? Carlos was the one who invited me and maybe he would be able to help…”

“Ma’am, please. We don’t need to get anyone else involved. Just cover up or else I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” The guy reaches out to guide you by your arm but you pull back from his reach, taking a singular step back.

"First of all, do not touch me. I did not give you permission to touch me. Secondly, I am not going to cover up because there is nothing wrong with my outfit, and it is entirely too hot to do so. Please can we just-I texted him, hopefully he's by-oh!" You felt a hand touch your lower back ever so lightly, making you jump and a flash of anger come over you very briefly before looking to your right and seeing Carlos flash a grin at you. The more severe part of your frustration melted away with the presence of the man beside you, softening your demeanor and allowing him to press a kiss to the top of your head and subsequently fix any bit of hair that came out of place due to the action.

“Hello.” He still had that grin on, but you could tell it got brighter the longer he looked at you, the more his eyes wandered around your appearance.

“Hi.” All you could muster was a tired grin to reciprocate, drained from the previous encounter, which made Carlos even more adamant to squash whatever problem you frenziedly and vaguely texted him about. So, after protectively wrapping his arm around your waist, he turns to the man that was previously hounding you about your outfit.

“So, what’s the problem?” The glare Carlos gave the man could have set the guy’s hair on fire if Carlos willed it. He was messing with his girl, and he wasn’t going to stand for it.

“Oh, s-she is a guest of yours…” The man started fidgeting with his jacket, pulling at the bottom hem and scrunching up the sleeves before finally just settling on crossing his arms.

“Yes. My girlfriend if you want to be specific. So, what is the problem you are having with my girlfriend?” Silence. That is all that followed the question, and it caused the world to just fade away, leaving just you three. Carlos, silent and waiting for an answer. The man, silent and feeling like an ass as he racked his brain for a way to talk himself out of the situation. You , silent and waiting for something to unfold, and then finally registering Carlos’ words but too nervous to say anything. When enough time passed to irritate him, Carlos turned to you for an answer. “What happened?”

“Um, uh..” Your first instinct was to look away, anything for you to not have to endure the intenseness of Carlos’ frustrated stare. You click your long, decorated nails together, trying to find your words again, surprised by the gentle finger that guides your eyes to his.

“Mírame. You can tell me.” His glare softened when he turned to you, willing you with his eyes to speak and trying to telepathically convey that it was a safe space to tell him the full story.

“He told me that there have been people complaining about my outfit and that I can either cover up or leave.” Even though it was hard to initiate eye contact with Carlos, maintaining it was a piece of cake. Getting lost in the dark irises of a gaze that could go from playfully wide to sultry squint was effortless for you, and you eyes seemed to follow the motion of his as he checked out your entire outfit, oversized and low buttoned white dress shirt and blue jean mini skirt down to the gold accented thigh high boots, a sexy elegant look which was one of the many looks he loved to see on you, and definitely did not see a problem with.

“You must not have been doing this for long because I have seen much worse outfits walking through the paddock.” His hand slid from your waist to your hand as he mildly pointed a finger at the man before turning to you. “You look great today, by the way.” Since a true response would make you dip into having to initiate eye contact again, all you could do was bashfully grin at the ground. “Now, we have somewhere to be, and I think you should go take a break, and just not come back, so you don’t disturb anyone else, okay?” He checks to ensure he had a firm grip on your hand before hastily walking away toward the Ferrari motorhome, but when you guys get close instead of going to the building you two turn toward the garage entrance, stopping along the wall just as you turn down the long walkway. It was only at that moment that you realized Carlos was dressed in his race attire, only haphazardly with the suit pulled up onto his shoulders but mostly unzipped, and your eyes couldn’t help but follow his hands as the quickly performed that task. “That was stupid, I don’t know why…” He mumbled that to himself as he finished strapping himself into his race suit. “I’m sorry about that girlfriend thing. I-”

“Don't be sorry.” You answered quickly and made sure your eyes met his. When Carlos said that in his haste to defend you, sure you heard an inflected emphasis on the word "girlfriend", that was a pleasant pillow that you were able to rest on while he handled the situation.

“What, you want to be my girlfriend?” His smirk acted as your reminder that you were holding eye contact, making you want to shrink back down in embarrassment, but you didn’t allow yourself to, and you knew Carlos wouldn’t allow it either.

“If you don’t mind being my first boyfriend.” You shrug timidly, and smile just as wide as Carlos does after your answer. You could tell Carlos was racking his brain for his next steps with how quick his eyes flashed over you, finally landing on your lips as his hand rested on your shoulders to pull you in for a kiss, quick but still held the happiness he wanted to convey.

“I told you I want to be all of your firsts. Even though I wanted this to be a bit more special. Flowers and everything.” He pushes your hair behind your ear and finds his eyes moving back and forth between yours again.

“Yeah, I remember.” Your eyes reluctantly peeled themselves away from his and traveled down to his race suit, pulling you back to the present as your hands act on their own to turn him toward his garage. “Go, please I’ve held you up long enough. What is this anyway? Practice?” Since landing in Britain that morning, you have been non-stop trying to get to the track, so you haven’t kept track of the schedule for the day.

“Eh, no. Qualifying.” This only made your eyes widen and caused you to put more force into pushing him into the garage.

“What the fuck!? You could’ve told me! Go, go, I probably completely ruined your concentration.” You continue to push but the action is interrupted by Carlos delicately pulling you around to his front and pulling you close to him wrapping your arms around his waist. His hands found their home on the sides of your shoulders, steadying you for another kiss, meant to calm your worries but also because he found your concern endearing.

"I'm more than prepared. Trust me. I'll see you later, cariño." He jogs off to his side of the garage, having to leave you at the entrance, but you eventually make your way in, standing behind the barrier separating the guests from the rest of the garage, pulling on headphones and waving at his cousin before finally turning your attention to the main event.

__________

"Okay, hold on one more moment, cariño. Keep your eyes closed.” You’re walked out of the bathroom that you were very quickly whisked into when you arrived at Carlos' room. Though your eyes were closed, they could still sense the soft glow of what could possibly be candle light, and the lack of sight didn't stop your nose from breathing in the fresh perfume of flowers, though you were unsure what kind. You waited patiently, jumping ever so slightly at the feeling of Carlos' hands over your closed eyes and the faint touch of his breath on the back of your neck. "Alright, open."

You open your eyes to, as you suspected, the dim, warm lights of several candles around his hotel room, a bouquet of roses on the bed that was sprinkled with rose petals. "Oh, Carlos…" You could've cried. Just a few months ago, you weren't even thinking about being in a relationship, let alone being in one with someone like Carlos, but here you are, with this man who thinks the world of you, and shows it not only in his words but in his actions.

"I wanted to get more balloons, but this is what I could get in such short notice." He had his arms wrapped around your torso and his chin rested on your shoulder as you looked at the beautifully decorated room, but you wanted to look at him instead, so you turned around in his arms to hook yours around his neck.

"You're too much." You slowly lean in for a peck, smiling with each one that follows.

"I know." You both chuckle as you go to playfully hit his chest. "You deserve this all, I hope you know that."

"I'm trying too, but still, thank you, Carlos." You go to rest your head on his chest, but you're startled by a sudden exclamation of mild disdain from him.

"Aye, Carlos is too formal." You eyebrows furrow briefly at him and shift your jaw as you think.

"Okay, so, um, what then?" Your eyes were wide and surprisingly innocent compared to the usual sultry look you had.

"Papí. I think that would have a nice ring coming from you." He couldn't help but lean in for another kiss from you. Your lips were his favorite part of you and the feeling of them on his own was his favorite feeling in the world, you embracing him second for the time being.

"Okay. Thank you, Papí." You place another peck in his waiting lips, liking how the nickname rolled off your tongue.

"You deserve it, mí amor." A kiss to your cheek begins to trail down your neck, reaching a tender spot that elicits a moan that shocks you but pleases him.

"Oh. I don't know wh-" Your automatic apology was interrupted and excited Carlos.

"Let's see if we can do that again." The kisses continued, making it the first time anyone has ever explored the erogenous points on your body.

Well, he was at least able to get around to anything above the shoulders.

yn_music

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yn_music 🌹🥀🌹🥀

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carlossainz55 Amor ♥️

user5 This is the hardest soft launch I've ever seen

user6 My happiness depends on these two making it so just everyone be quiet and let them live

>landonorris I agree with them ☝🏼

kaliuchis Mamí ‼️‼️‼️🥵🥵🥵

user7 I'm gonna need pointers because I still don't know how you snatched Carlos Sainz 🧐

>yn_music Be awkward as fuck in the Ferrari garage 🧍🏿‍♀️

user8 This is not gonna last I'm calling it rn 🫥

>user9 She probably whined and cried for him to do that for her 🙄

>carlossainz55 Try again. This time pull your head out of your ass so you can think clearer

You were in the zone, posing as music played in the studio. That was truly the only way you could even begin this shoot as the only things covering your upper body were fake butterflies, but as you got well into the shoot those nerves melted away and you were just vibing to the music. After a couple more shots, the photographer called you over to take a look at what they had gotten and while you were studying each shot you received a tap on the shoulder.

"Papí!" You turn around and fling your arms around your boyfriend’s neck, his warm woodsy scent, a slightly sweet tinge at the end, swirling around your head. When you pull away, he hands you the robe that you left in the make-up area, aware of the qualm you had about being too exposed for long periods of time, and you graciously and quickly accept it before hanging your arms around his neck again while he brings you closer to him by your hips.

“Te ves hermosa, cariño. That color is perfect on you.” You looked at him with a dopey gaze, poking out your lips to accept the kiss he was leaning in for.

“Gracias, Papi.” You guys make your way toward the make up area, which in a large open area such as the studio this was taking place, is a small portion of the large room partitioned off, a clothing rack and a vanity in the vicinity. "What are you doing here?" You sit in the chair facing the vanity, your hand in the unwavering grasp of your boyfriend who walks around to stand in front of you.

"What, I can't come see my girlfriend?" His eyes wandered around your intricate makeup, while he spoke and you could feel your face heat up and your heart begin to race as he placed you under his adoring gaze.

"Well, I mean, it's just unexpected for you to be in L.A. when you're supposed to be in Singapore by tomorrow. Wouldn't this fuck up your sleep schedule?" You bring your other hand up to accompany the one already in Carlos' grasp, swinging his arm, eventually turning your attention to the group of hands.

"Eh, maybe. Maybe not. I guess we will see." He shrugs and then uses his free hand to tilt your head up. "I couldn't pass on a chance to see mi cariño."

"Oh." He removes his finger and your eyes go back to your guys' hands, to his dismay. But his ears perked when you voluntarily looked back up at him. "I am really happy to see you.”

It was simple what you said, but it was how you said it that made the moment a sticky-sweet one. “I’m happy to see you too, amor.” He bent in to press a kiss to your lips and then examined your eyes. “Have you eaten? Are you hungry?”

“Oh, no. I’m fine. They provided food." You tilt your head to the table off to the side, and Carlos' eyes are assaulted with the sight of boring looking sandwiches and various fruits and vegetables. He knew you well enough to know that you would only eat what was over there if you had to. But he was there, so you didn't have to.

"Are you sure you don't want me to get you something, mí corazon?" Corazon. The nickname that you loved and feared the most for the sheer fact it is a sign that you had to be vulnerable. If he called you by that, it meant that he could see through whatever front you were putting up and that you had no choice but to voice whatever was on your mind. A complaint, your feelings on something, an idea you have. He was there to listen, and you were trying to remember that.

"Well, um, there is this taco place, I think it’s about a block away, they have these amazing carne asada fries with queso, guacamole, pico, sour cream…” Your stomach growls at your descriptive request, and you look up innocently at your boyfriend, who grinned at you like you were a precious jewel.

“Got it. I think I saw it on my way here. Uh, what about coffee? You seem a little tired.” He reaches to your hair, a feather light touch barley even altering the already perfectly set hair.

“No, I-uh…” You stop your refusal, feeling Carlos’ intense gaze on you, just waiting for you to lie so he could say something, so you conceded and told him the truth. "Yes, a coffee would be nice." You give him a worn grin and lean into the forehead kiss that he gently guides you into by the back of your head.

"Okay, mí amor. Iced Macchiato, extra espresso shot, sweet cream cold foam…do you want extra caramel this time?" You look up and slowly nod at him, leaning in for one last peck on the lips. "Okay, I'll be back. You keep being sexy."

"I'll try." This was preceded with a girlish giggle, and you were reluctant to let go of his hand, holding on until his arm was extended to its fullest extent. "Love you."

Carlos stops in his tracks. Sure, this wasn't the first "love you" shared between you too, but he was sure this was the first time you've said it first. "I love you too, mí cariño." He backtracks to kiss you again, soft and slow, before you finally let him leave.

He came back with the food and coffee about 30 minutes later and stayed for the entire rest of the shoot, his presence a comfort you didn't know you needed until he was there. He left for the race early the next morning, even though he knew he would be arriving halfway through the media day, it was worth being with you those extra few hours.

yn_music

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yn_music Look who decided to visit 🦋😚

No Bars out now, y'all‼️ If you haven't listened, where tf y'all been at? 🤨😒😘

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carlossainz55 Sexy as always 🥵 Pre-race weekend time well spent cariño ♥️😘

>landonorris Why do I feel like there is some deeper meaning behind this 🤨

>yn_music Don't look to deep into it, it's not for young eyes 👶🏼

>landonorris You're literally a year older than me???

saweetie Y'all don't fuck wit her 🤞🏿💖🤞🏿💖

>yn_music ♥️

>saweetie I've got a shoot next week, you think your man can come bring me some food?

>carlossainz55 She has told me that since you and are her friends I am obligated to. Just tell me when and where 🫡

user10 A lewk❗ Ate left no crumbs❗ Slay hunty to the boots down❗Serving cunt❗

>yn_music You just using them all, huh? 😭

>user10 I just love you so much 🥲

>yn_music ♥️

user11 So we're praising her being basically nude...got it ✔️

>user10 You just wish you looked that good basically nude 💁🏾‍♀️

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carmenmmundt Can't wait to see you this weekend, lovely ☺️

>yn_music I say the moment I see you we flake on our boyfriends and go get some drinks

>carmenmmundt Deal 🤝

>user12 Hmmm? You two are besties and no one decided to tell us?? Surprises around each corner this season

"Amor, can you grab the salad de la navera, por favor?" Reyes instructs as you two move around the kitchen to grab the finishing touches on the dinner that was happening out on the patio of the large Madrid home. It was only you two in the kitchen, as desired by Carlos' mom, while he, his sisters and various other family members stayed out on the patio while Carlos Sr. grilled.

"Okay, here we are." You set the bowl on the counter and then turn to lean against it as you watch her put finishing touches on various other fragrant side dishes.

"Gracias, amor." When she gets done turning off the burners of the stove and wiping her hands clean, she whirls around to look at you, a soft content grin on her face as she eyed you up and down, meeting your eyes when she's done. "You are such a lovely girl. And not just beautiful, pero tu aura, how comfortable you are with yourself and how it naturally makes other people more comfortable around you. That's a gift."

"Thank you, Miss Reyes. You don't understand how nice that is to hear. With so many people talking about my relationship with Carlos, thinking they know what's going on…it's just nice to hear. Especially from you." Your heart fluttered at the compliment. You weren't one to be phased by online comments, but there was a small morsel of your mind that was worried the comments would influence those close to Carlos, convince them that you weren't good for him, but that has been far from the case. They all loved you, and that was an understatement. His mom and sisters would always steal you away from him the moment you guys walked through the door, and his father treated you like his own.

"And Carlito, he-I have never seen him so in love with someone. When he calls me, two things he talks about, driving and you." You had to do something with your hands as you felt Reyes' adoring eyes focus hard on you, making you mildly nervous.

“I’m sure my friends would say a similar thing about me. All I do is focus on my music and talk about Carlos.” You chuckle and bring your hand to your hair to shake it out and push some of it backwards. “I always feel like a lovesick teenager when I talk about him. I get giddy about the stupidest stuff.”

“As you should, mi amor. He always talks about how proud he is of you. How you’ve allowed yourself to be vulnerable. How you've been learning to voice your needs. And, eh, this last one coming from my own hopes, but I hope he is showing you what a good relationship is supposed to be. Even if he is not your only one, I hope he is a good one.” She takes a step towards you and lays a soft hand on your cheek, and you naturally lean into the motherly touch, your lips twitching into a grin.

“He’s been a great one. He’ll be a tough act to follow, if it comes to that of course.” You two share a quiet moment after that, like a mother watching her daughter fall blissfully in love and being comforted in the fact that she is being loved back two fold.

“Bueno. Now, let’s talk about that new song of yours while we bring the rest of this food out.” She nods her head at the salad bowl and plate of rosquillas sitting on the island behind you and turns around to grab the dishes behind her and leads the way to the patio where the rest of the family was.

“Oh, that. I-” You follow quickly behind her, preparing an answer to explain the content of the song but the answer you get before you’re able to finish is one that you should’ve expected.

“I love it. It’s on my workout playlist.” She turns to the side to walk through the door to ensure that nothing hits the door frame, watching her step as she does so, and you follow her lead, dumbfounded by her confession. “You never need to worry about your music with me amor. I love everything you make because it’s you. You need to take some advice from your own song. Aye,¿cuál era la línea? Ah, ‘I’m that bitch, give a fuck who don’t like me.’” Reyes’ recitation of the lyric invites a playful, riot-like response, a jumble of "Mamí!" and "Tía!" erupting from the group on the patio.

"Thank you, Miss Reyes. I'm very happy you enjoy the song." You say this through intermittent chuckles as you walk over to the other side of the table, to where you're greeted by your boyfriend trying to take the bowl of salad and plate of dessert from you because he never lets you do any labor if you don't have to, while a similar gesture unknowingly happened in the same moment with his mom and dad. The difference in the moment is, that while Reyes allowed the gesture to happen, used to Carlos Sr.’s impromptu help, you kept the serving dishes in your grasp, telling Carlos that you had it and giving him a short kiss on the way by.

You two had an audience for that entire interaction, you walking by, Carlos' eyes watching you the entire, and the bright, eye crinkling smile he gave you once you turned to him after placing the dishes down, bringing you into his arms and giving you a deep kiss. He then plops into the chair he was previously sat in, bringing you down onto his lap, eliciting a giggle from you in the process. "So, what did you and my mom talk about in there?"

"Oh you know, the usual. Food, music…how you're absolutely obsessed with me and can't live without me." You calmly comb your fingers through his hair as you spoke, slowly getting more focused on actually fixing the tousled look of his hair, until his right index finger tilts your head down slightly so you were looking in his eyes.

"Todo es verdad, mí cariño." You lean down to receive the kiss his partially puckered lips offered, the only thing your brain could register doing is allowing your eyes to travel the hills of his face and lean your head into the light touch his fingers gave the back of your ear following his gentle modification of how your hair fell in front of your face. "Oh!" His sudden exclamation made you flinch slightly and perk you head toward him, eyes widened in surprise, silently waiting for him to continue. "Move your stuff into my room tonight, please. I do not know why you slept in a different room last night, anyway." His index finger continued to lightly scratch at the back of your ear.

"Oh, yeah. I was so tired last night after traveling, and it was, like, instinct to go to another room at your parents house because that's what I did the last time we came here. But, um, I will. I did miss you last night."

"I missed you too. You have no idea how much I missed you." His eyes traipse around your body suggestively, before silently coaxing your eyes to his. Your head follows the guide of Carlos' hand to meet his lips in a couple of light, languid kisses, that is until you hear a low grunt and turn around to see his cousin playfully rolling his eyes at the precious interaction.

"Consigue una habitación." This was whispered under Oñoro's breath, and a cheesy smile plastered its way onto his face when Carlos' hand briefly leaves your hip to swat at his cousin, a flurry of giggles coming from all parties.

"Sólo estás celoso." His arm wraps back around your waist and hand gravitates back to your hip, clasping his other hand that has now settled in the same location, hugging your body closer to him.

"No, he's just mad that I beat him at Padel last time we were here and I could probably beat his ass again." Carlos brings his head adding a curiously raised eyebrow to his amused visage. "He still doesn't understand how I did it with the long nails." You click your, now moderate length (moderate compared to the usual length you get), nails as a subconscious supplement to your coy answer, a complete contrast to the response that comes from the man seated next to you two.

"You shouldn't have even been able to hold the racquet with those things." Though loud, the tone of his answer was more comical, a chuckle laced throughout his words.

"Aye, don't be a sore loser." They childishly swat at each other for a couple of seconds before Carlos' attention abruptly moves back to you. "You move to my room tonight, bueno?"

"Bueno, papí." You press a gentle kiss to his nose and then a few slow exaggerated ones to his lips. Nothing too deep, not in the company of family, only lips were involved, but there was a conscious effort on your part to put most of your attention on his bottom lip, sucking and kissing it.

Soon it was time to eat and you had to move to your own chair, much to Carlos' dismay.

________

Three slow knocks to his bedroom door made Carlos rise from his bed and slowly stalk over and swing it open, slowly pulling your tiresome frame into his arms.

"You moved my stuff already." You mumble into his chest, the scent wafting from him swirling around you, making you realize exactly how much you missed him last night. How perfect he would have been to cuddle up next to, be wrapped in his warm embrace…

"Cariño? You there?" He makes a knocking noise while pretending to knock your head to grab your attention. You didn't realize how tired you were.

"Yeah, yeah. I, um…" Your response acted as go-ahead for Carlos to press slow kisses up your neck and behind your ear, a location that he would pepper with his lips when he wanted to mess with you, make you mewl quietly and immerse yourself fully in the sensation. He loved it, watching your face show a level of eros that would rarely reveal itself. He always wanted more, wanted to move further down your body, explore areas that are always tortuously covered in clothes, but he was adamant in not doing so until you were absolutely sure. Until you yourself initiated something.

"You must be so tired, amor. Can't think straight." He pushes his hands beneath the baggy long sleeve you wore, fingernails grazing the skin of your back, one hand leaving its post for a fleeting moment to push closed the bedroom door, your lips held captive by his.

"Mmm…no. No. I, uh, I just gotta go do something real quick. I'll be back." It took a moment for you to escape Carlos' hold, you practically wearing him like a backpack until you disappeared behind the bathroom door. He slowly saunters over to the bed, stopping momentarily when he hears you screech out "You even organized my stuff in the bathroom!"

After about 15 minutes, you emerged from the bathroom and laggardly made your way toward the bed, where Carlos was engrossed with something on his phone. That is, until he could see you approaching him in his peripheral, making him intuitively set the device down and accept you crawling into bed with him. He noted your change in attire, tight shorts and a baggy shirt, a change from the long sleeve and sweatpants you had on moments before. He also noted your hesitancy in climbing onto the bed, as if you played out an entire scenario while standing at the side before just climbing in and laying to the left of him, turning to your side to wrap your arms around his left arm and to drape a leg over his hip.

Originally, you both just layed there, intertwined, Carlos ready to go to sleep with you finally there beside him, but that when he felt soft, timid kisses being placed up his neck. He couldn't help but smile endearingly at your attempt to set a mood, working diligently to hold in a chuckle with each unsure kiss you pressed with your pillowy soft lips. It was similar to a doe taking a chance to walk up to you, one wrong move and they'll retreat for good. "Hey, hold on." He says this quietly, and he could tell from your still hooded eyes that you were only stopping to follow whatever brief instruction he had for you, but instead of instruction, he just shifts his body up the bed so he was sitting up against the headboard, taking you with him and ultimately pulling you over his body so you were sitting on his lap eye level with him. The abrupt change in position is what broke your trance and caused you to stare at him in the eyes, unsure of what to do next. "Just keep doing what you were before, cariño." You stare at him for a second longer, just until he gives you the slightest of nods, in which you reluctantly go back to placing gentle kisses along his jaw. "Get closer, amor. Why are you so far away?" He presses his hands to your lower back to bring your lower body up his legs, your core dangerously close to the bulge growing in his shorts.

There's a quiet hum from you that follows the adjustment. It basically had the same purpose as a warning alarm when starting up machinery, because after that soft hum came the unskilled movement of your hips over his, movement that surprised Carlos and cause him to bring his hands to your hips on instinct, immediately pressing you down onto his crotch and helping you with the movement. You pull away from your previous occupation of your lips to his jaw to allow your brain to comprehend the, not quite new, but definitely enhanced sensation, eyes failing to meet his and instead settling on his lips. He didn't allow that though, as one of his hands came up to grip your chin and manually place your eyes on his. "Mírame, mi cariño. I want to see how good I make you feel."

Boy did he get his wish. You did as told and held the eye contact, mouth falling open as you continued to rut your hips into his. This is all the stimulation you ever tried to get from Carlos, so he wasn't surprised to see you pupils already blow out in lust, but it was the knotting of your eyebrows that hinted that this time was different. That you wanted more and just didn't know how to ask, but Carlos was patient. But he also knew he would have to force it out of you, eventually. And so his grip on your hips got firmer and you could feel that your body had been pressed further down onto your boyfriend, creating delicious friction that was working to bring you to that high you so desperately craved. You bit down on the inside of your lip and began to move your hips faster, but the even further furrowed eyebrows caused him to put the hand breaks on your hips. You whimper in protest, only wanting to make yourself feel good as you've had time and time again, but your eyes are met with wide ones trying to asses your thoughts, trying to make you answer an unasked question. When no answer comes he is forced to verbalize it.

"Do you want more, mi cariño? You've got to use your words." You nod, voice trapped in your throat from your earlier shyness, but you somehow manage to rasp out the words you needed to.

"I need you, Papí." You buried your head into his neck as you said this, starting your hips up again but you're quickly stopped again and Carlos' fingers lace through your hair, gently tugging back, knowing the delicate handling needed by the style, so you were looking him in his eyes again.

"Eyes on me, cariño." You nod at the instruction and he releases his grip on your hair letting his hand fall to your cheek. "We'll go slow, okay?" Another nod from your lustful but slightly concerned face has Carlos guiding you into a kiss. Starting off simple, like your first kiss in the park in Monaco, lips pressing gently together. You feel Carlos actively work his lips between yours and you knew to open your mouth slightly, and follow along with the movement of his tongue. Your arms move from being wrapped around his neck to his chest, your fingers just now realizing he was shirtless and causing a stifled moan that came out more like a short, pained exhale. It was like the new level of salaciousness you were experiencing caused you to slip in and out of consciousness because it wasn't until your shirt was halfway up your raised arms that you realized Carlos was removing your shirt, exposing the red lace trimmed bra you were wearing. "Eres tan hermosa, mí cariño." He tore his eyes away from your breast to look you in your eyes, eyelids relaxed and mouth slightly agape, showing your teeth a bit when you smile at the compliment.

"Gracias, papí. It's all yours." It was Carlos' turn to break eye contact now, bring his hands to run over your breasts, his first real look at them, and boy was it a treat. This moment was fleeting, eyes returning to yours and lips crashing back into each other, going back to the sloppy work they were doing before. You pressed your body as close to his as you possibly could, hands combing their way through Carlos' thick, dark locks until you just couldn't hold off anymore. You lift your body from his laps and begin to pull at his athletic shorts, eyes focused on the obvious bulge that you were craving to see the source of.

"Wait a moment, cariño." He holds your wrists in a firm grip and silently urges you to look at him, and when you do he gives you a domestic grin. One that you reciprocate before giving him a simple kiss, going back to basics. You sit back and wait, mind finally coming back to the situation at hand, how exposed you both were, what all of it was leading to. Your instincts told you to pull away from the hands that were now wrapped around your torso to undo your bra, but your brain quickly overrode that thought, reminding you that this is the man you love who loves you twice as much and you have been wanting this for a while now. So you let it happen. Let your bra be flung off to the side and kisses be pressed into the valley between. Let his kiss swollen lips mark a slick path to your nipple, your head tipping to the side when he takes it in his mouth. Let innocent mewls drip from your mouth at the new sensation and feel your core get warm and slick in anticipation.

When Carlos had his fill of your chest for the time being, he pulled back again to look in your eyes but you could feel his hands venturing down to your shorts but not yet inside. He flicked his eyes down to his hand and then back to your face. "Is this okay?" You nod and brace yourself for the sensation, having never been touched in such a way, but when it didn't come, you put your attention back in Carlos' face, stern with an inquisitive eyebrow up. "You need to use your words, amor."

"Oh, uh, yeah. Th-that's fine." You look back down at Carlos' hand that remains still until a sudden grip on your cheeks from Carlos' other hand brings you gaze back to his, only then did his statuesque appendage dip into your shorts and lightly graze your clit, your body jolting at the feeling.

"Mírame, mi corazon. Don't look away, please. I want to see what faces you make. Faces that only I have had the opportunity to get from you, mí inocente cariño." Carlos coos before moving his hand again, rubbing a full circle on your clit this time. You let out a lewd whine and squirm your hips, feeling yourself clench around non-existent stimulation. "You want a finger, amor? Does my pretty girl want to feel Papí's fingers inside of her?" Carlos drug his middle finger along your entrance, surprised at how wet you were already, eager to know what sounds and faces you would make being fucked by his fingers, but he waited for your verbal response.

"Mmm, yes, please." You spoke with a needy whine and bucked your hips against his hand, getting sticky juices up to his wrist. He flashes an maniacal smile and pulls your face to his for a messy kiss you were very much not ready for, finding your impatience darling. He then had to stifle a cruel chuckle when you let out a shocked and slightly uncomfortable whimper when he finally does stick a finger inside of you. He removes it and goes back to rubbing your clit for a moment, giving you light kisses along your jaw.

"You okay?" There was the slightest remanence of that chuckle in his voice, but not enough for you to notice or care because you just go on to answer his question so he is able to continue.

"Your fingers are much thicker than mine." You whimper, your pouted lips the perfect target for Carlos' as he presses his finger back inside of you, dragging along your soft walls and his palm pressing against your clit as he moves his finger.

"You've been using your fingers?" He wondered if you realized what you admitted to when he inquired this, but the answer was obviously no when you go on to mindlessly answer his question.

"Mhmm. Did last night." You nod, face still being held by the large hand of your boyfriend, eyes still forced to look into his as they being to display a touch of overwhelm.

"Were you wishing they were mine?" Carlos' finger held a slow steady pace, a second one coming to join the first, adding to the already full sensation. The spongy texture of your g-spot acted as a target that he put more focus into hitting, which caused you to move your hands to grip his wrist.

"N-no, I-not your fingers. You…" You didn't want to be looking at him when you hinted to imagining him fucking you with wild abandon, but your face was still in his grasp, eyes having only the options to look him in the eyes or the mocking smile on his lips.

"You were wishing I was there to fuck you! Oh, cariño, that's cute. How about I help that wish come true, hmm?" He slips his fingers from you and removes his hand from your shorts, his index and ring finger glistening obscenely with your juices and your mind has to reboot after watching him suck said juices off said fingers. He finally removes his other hand from your face and reaches over to his night stand to reach into the drawer to grab a condom, the shiny wrapped object being held briefly between his lips so he could close the drawer again. As he went to pull down his shorts, he stopped to take a look at you vacuously watching his movements. "Here. You take them off." He takes your wrists in his hands and brings your hands to his waistband.

"Oh, okay." You accept the task with a high-pitched whisper and lightly grasp the waistband of his shorts and underwear, taking a deep breath and then slowly pulling down. You watched as the bulge at his crotch was revealed, his dick springing out, slowly falling onto his stomach, the tip glossy from precum. The crinkle and tearing open of the condom brings your eyes back to Carlos', noticing that they seemed darker and his pupils were obviously blown out.

"You know how to do this?" He hands you the condom when you begin to nod slowly, watching as your warily remove the object from its wrapping and place it on his tip, shaky hands having trouble starting to roll it over him. He brings one of his hands to wrap around yours, guiding your fingers in rolling the edge of the condom around his tip and then moving that hand to your hair when you're able to finish the task yourself, trying his best not to thrust up into your hand, which looks absolutely adorable wrapped around his dick. You make this a bit harder for him, intrusive thoughts taking over and making you start to stroke him over the condom, hand moving easily due to the lube that came on the object. Carlos had to stop you before it went too far, taking your hand and using it to guide you in flipping your positions, you now laying on your back with Carlos between your legs. He hooks his fingers to the waistband of your shorts and pulls them off with your underwear, a string of slick going with them for a second before he flings them off in the direction that your bra went earlier. Finally there you two were. Naked. Exposed. Ready to engage in the most intimate moment of your relationship to date. But Carlos had to have some fun with it. "If only all those people saw you now. Mi pequeña inocente, fucking herself with her fingers, wishing it was my dick. Maybe they'd shut up about you being dominant. You being the one 'wearing the pants'. But I'll let them believe that. As long as I get this. You waiting for me to fuck you stupid."

"Papí, please…" You whine out, reaching up to grip what you could of his hair so you could bring him down for a desperate kiss, pulling away to look at him with wide doe eyes. He takes the obvious cue and lines himself up with your core, eyeing you up and down before leaning over you, placing a hand by your head and using the other hand to toss one of your legs over his waist.

"Okay, okay amor. I'll take it slow. Just know that it'll feel…different." You nod and look down at the gap between you two, waiting for your hips to connect and for the pressure and possible pain to follow. Instead came the gentle tip of your chin upward so you were looking at Carlos. "Mírame, okay?" You nod, now slightly nervous, but another short kiss, this time given to you by Carlos before he checks again to make sure he was lined up with your entrance then pushed in, slow as humanly possible. He paused when you let out a wail that you tried and failed at stifling.

"Oh, oh. I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" Your incessant apologies are quelled by gentle kisses that trail to your lips, and a thumb coming up to your cheek to wipe a tear that you didn't know was there.

"Shh, shh cariño. It's okay. We're on the complete other side of the house. You can be as loud as you need." You nod and wipe some more tears that you were now aware of. "Are you okay? Do you want to stop?"

"No. No. I just need a moment…" You take a few breaths and try to adjust your body, trying to familiarize yourself with the pressure, trying to distract yourself from the initial feeling of being split in half that caused such a vocal reaction. He definitely felt thicker than he looked, and the visual you did get of his dick beforehand was nothing to sneeze at. But after a few more deep breaths and adjustments, you felt it was okay for him to push again, stopping intermittently when you indicated a need to stop until he bottoms out fully.

"Everything okay?" Carlos does his best at gauging where you were at, eyes flicking over your face rapidly, searching for any sign of extreme discomfort. Instead, a soft grin appears and one of your hands reaches for his face, a gesture to which he responds to by leaning down and placing two slow, tongue involved kisses.

"I love you, Papí. So much." There's a unique amount of emphasis that these words flowing from your mouth put on your lips, still swollen and parted as you gave him the "OK" to move. So, his hips hitch back, and as his dick drags deliciously against your walls as he pulls out, it's surface area touching every sensitive spot inside of you on the way out, and then they press forward again, dragging along the same spots, pressure between your hips reapplied but felt to a lesser extent, a gentle press all the way to your cervix, all for him to retract and do it all again. Your head tips down again, watching the agonizingly slow movement of Carlos' hips, watching him disappear and reappear from you, wondering how this was at all possible and how it felt so fucking good. Carlos allowed it this time. He was enjoying watching you, your face, confused and overwhelmed, because fuck, did you looked adorable on his dick.

Your arms autonomously drape over his shoulders, inadvertently bringing him down so that your foreheads were pressed together, nails just gently grazing his skin for the moment. "You're taking me so well, cariño. I could fuck you forever." Carlos was becoming more unhinged, hips starting to move ever so slightly faster, even with the tight grip your pussy had on his cock. His mind was traveling elsewhere. He loved you. He loved everything about you. This was no secret to anyone. But there was also a part of him that loved the challenge you presented. Your innocence and inexperience. Your reputation in the world that held no merit. Yeah, you were badass and didn't give a fuck about what people thought, but you weren't the unprofessional, hypersexual person people thought you were. And to be honest, he was glad that he was the only one who knew this you. The you currently bemused by the sights and feelings of having sex for the first time. "Mírame, amor, and tell me something…"

"Mhmm?" His hand was gripping your face again, guiding your gaze and starving you of the hypnotic sight of his hips crashing into yours, dick plunging in and out, the shine on the condom from your juices increasing. But instead you were subjected only to the site of dark amorous eyes peering down at you.

"Did you cum when you used your little fingers?" As he asked his question, he moved himself closer to you, changing the angle of your hips, lifting them up slightly which allowed his dick to push deeper.

"I-i don't know. I don't t-think so. I stopped when I got too sensitive." You pouted, remembering the intense feeling that you unwillingly had to ride out.

"Aw, mi pobre pequeño. Let me try. You are going to have to relax, though." In that moment, Carlos seems to change the motion of his hips, rolling them more, causing his pubic bone ever so lightly graze your clit with each thrust. You attempt to protest, worried about what would come with the unknown experience, but a strangled whine instead erupts from your chest in response to Carlos' calloused fingers starting to rub circles on your clit, using your juices as lubricant to make the action more fluid.

So, with one of Carlos' hand making its rounds on your clit and the other forcing you to look into his eyes as you make each ridiculous pleasure filled face, enjoying a bit too much the extreme reaction he has been able to elicit from you, your legs were left to wrap around his hips unattended. While it would have made sense for them to fall from his waist, they seem to actually tighten as you begin to near your climax. "Mmm…Papí…I ca-, I don't- I-" You weren't unfamiliar with what you were feeling, senses heightened, sensitivity in every nerve ending in your pussy amplified by a thousand. It was whatever came afterward that concerned you.

"Let go, cariño. It's okay. I'm here. It'll make you feel so good." So you listen to the instructions cooed down at you and let yourself fall over that pleasure threshold, allow all nerve endings reach a peak sensitivity, your body to stiffen and your back to arch. The walls of your pussy fluttered around Carlos' dick as he continued to hitch his hips into you.

"Carlos…" A whiny sob bubbles from your chest as he continues to thrust, unintentionally overstimulating you as he was too focused on how adorable you were all whiney and tired, pussy still spasming, squeezing him and producing more of it's own lubrication making the obscene sounds of him fucking you senseless louder with each thrust until he finally finishes in the condom, whispering about how in love with you he was in an intoxicating mixture of English and Spanish. Once you both came down from your highs and cleaned yourselves up to the best of your tired ability, you two fell asleep immediately, only to wake up close to noon the next day and, once you both were presentable, make your way to the kitchen greeted by the knowing look of his mom.

yn_music

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yn_music ✨Do not Disturb✨

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latto777 An icon 🌟🌟🛥️

carlossainz55 I thought we agreed the bikini photos was for me only, amor?

>yn_music Lo siento, Papí. But I looked too cute not to share ☺️😘

>carlossainz55 Fine. We have more that's just for us anyway ♥️

user13 I see so many people commenting about how they seem so happy together but does anyone else notice that they are only together on expensive looking getaways

>yn_music We were actually in Madrid to see his family, but thank you for showing such concern for my boyfriend 😚

user14 I need you two to stay together forever for my sanity, okay?

>carlossainz55 We will try 😁

>user14 Thank you 🧎🏻‍♀️

carlossainz55

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carlossainz55 Mí cariño hermosa 😍

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yn_music 🥰😚🥰😚🥰

>yn_music Even though you're determined to make me look like the most chaotic person on the planet

>carlossainz55 It's because I like these pictures of you (and the people deserve to know the truth 😶‍🌫️)

>carlossainz55 And not all the good pictures of you I have are appropriate 😘

landonorris Hi Mom! 👋🏻

>yn_music Boy if you don't stop calling me Mom 😤

>yn_music Jk hey baby! 👋🏿😘

user15 AHHHH! THE HEADSHOTS! THATS SO FREAKING ADORABLE

>carlossainz55 I think you'll be even happier to know that she got those taken just to give to me as a birthday present

>user15 I am 🥲

user16 It took some work and emotional damage, but I'm glad to see that Carlos and Yn are unapologetically in love 💕

#formula 1 #black reader #f1 imagines #formula 1 x black!reader #f1 x black!reader #request #carlos sainz x black!reader #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr #f1 smut #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 scenario

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iamthat-iam · 2 months

Text

"Ego", The Final Boss

Olivia (she prefers to be called Liv) has been on quite the spiritual journey for a couple of years. She was born and raised Catholic, then as a teen she decided to leave the church because it didn't resonate with her. She went through a law of attraction phase, followed by law of assumption, and finally, she found non dualism from a few Twitter and Tumblr accounts.

The message, from what she gathered, was that she needed to fully drop the ego in order to realize her true self/true nature and to experience whatever she wanted. She even read a few books where realized masters have spoken about their own personal journeys of dropping ego and how life is generally more peaceful for them now that they've done so.

Now, Liv is one with a troubled past. She would give anything to become an entirely different person with no childhood trauma, and just a happy life all around. She meditated every single day, practiced "sitting in silence", and tried her hardest to detach from her "ego."

She stopped enjoying her usual hobbies out of fear of identifying too much with the character. She would go out of her way to correct thoughts that she felt were "too related to being the person." Needless to say, her mental health began to go downhill very fast.

One of her best friends, Marcus, decided to check up on her one day through face-time. "Hey sis! How have you been?! Haven't seen you in a while."

"Hey..." Liv answered. "I'm not doing all that great to be honest."

"Yeah I figured that. That's why I reached out to you," Marcus stated. "I'm worried about you. It seems like you barely leave the house. Everytime myself or anyone else tries to make plans with you, you either cancel last minute or come up with some bogus excuse as to why you can't come out."

Liv had to laugh because everything he said was true. "So I'm guessing you didn't believe the story about my pet rabbit dying."

Marcus cackled. "GIRL. I've known you for years and not once have you ever had a pet rabbit. Stop playing."

"Okay let me tell you what's really going on with me," Liv began, "So a few months ago I found this 'spiritual practice' called Non Dualism, and the premise of it is you need to 'let go of ego' in order to realize your true nature as God, or Awareness, whatever you want to call it. Also you get to experience whatever you want."

"So this is the reason why you've stopped enjoying your usual hobbies, and why you've stopped having a social life?" Marcus inquired. "I'm going to be honest here. As your friend, I feel like I owe it to you to tell you the Truth even if it isn't what you want to hear. I don't think that this 'practice' has helped you one bit. Either you have misinterpreted the message, or these people are spreading misinformation. Never at any point should you sacrifice your mental health for the sake of 'becoming enlightened.'"

"I don't know what else to do," Liv started to cry a little. "I just want to become a different person living a life full of happiness, one without trauma and constant reminders of my horrible past. I hate being this broken person!"

"It's okay hun, I totally understand," Marcus consoled her. "I can help you. You remember my family guru right? She hates being called that, but I don't know how else to refer to her. Her name is Sage. My family has gone to her for spiritual advice and healing for years."

"Yes, I remember her! Didn't she help your mom heal her lower back pain?" Liv asked excitedly.

"She sure did. I can give you her number if you want!"

After Liv ended her face-time call with Marcus, he gave her Sage's number. She immediately reached out to her to schedule a day where they can meet up.

- -

One day, Liv arrived at a beautiful park to discover Sage already sitting on one of the benches waiting. "Hi! I don't know if you remember me, I'm Marcus' friend Liv."

"Yes! Hi Liv, it's nice to see you again," Sage reached out and gave Liv a warm hug. "Now what can I help you with?"

Liv sat down next to Sage. "Well, I discovered Non dualism a few months ago, and I'm not sure if I misunderstood the message or not, but I thought you had to let go of ego in order to realize your true nature as awareness. And after you realize this, you can experience whatever you want. So long story short, I stopped enjoying life because I thought I had to do that in order to be enlightened."

Sage hesitated for a moment, and then smiled. "Think about it this way.. if it's true that our true nature is awareness, or God, whatever label you put on it, why would you have to go through these unnecessary steps in order to 'become' it? If that's what you already are in the first place?"

Liv opened her mouth to reply, then closed it again. Maybe Sage had a point.

"Here are my thoughts. If anyone is telling you to 'drop the ego', it's bullshit," Sage chuckled. "The point of Non Dualism is realizing that you were always awareness. You were always the awareness behind everything that seems to appear. The ever-stretching, limitless silence that can take on the form of anything. The ego is just a thought. The idea that you are not already fully realized is also just a thought. In reality, there's no ego or person here to let go of. No person here who needs to become 'fully realized.' Just drop the idea that you are a limited human that has to become something, and you'll be golden."

Liv's jaw dropped to the ground. "You're telling me it was THAT SIMPLE THIS ENTIRE TIME?"

Sage laughed heartily. "Yes it is. Why do you think it took masters like Lester or Sri Nisgardatta months or YEARS to 'realize Self?' because they spent so much time trying to get rid of an ego that doesn't exist!"

Liv let out a sigh of relief. "So there really is nothing to do. I can't believe I exerted all that effort for nothing. I do have one more question, how can I experience whatever I want knowing I'm awareness? I want to be a completely different person with a different past."

"The person you think you are now, and the one you want to be are both illusions. You, as awareness, can 'choose' either one like a costume. Everytime you think about this ideal version of you, you've already experienced it," Sage grinned.

Suddenly a wave of emotions flooded through Liv, a mixture of relief and happiness. She felt the urge to give Sage a tight hug. "Thank you so much for helping me today."

"You're so welcome, sweetie."

Good for Liv, she has finally accepted her omnipotence and freedom to experience anything!

#non dualism #nondualism #consciousness #awareness #self #self realization #another long story but i hope the message was clear

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fernlessbastard · 8 months

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So, what's the deal with this tnt duo art?

I've explained it in my reblog of this post, but I've decided to copy this over to a brand new post as well, because especially with qsmp happening I'm sure we have many newer people here who don't get what's the deal with this piece

Ok so first off: the artist is _olga.exe_ on Instagram (I think also on twitter but i don't use Twitter so you'll have to check that one yourself)

To the best of my understanding this art just came out around June 2021, which was immediately after the first Revivedbur/Quackity interaction. The first two or so months the ship was exclusively seen as a crack ship - I'm not fully certain why, I think it's just that quackbur before wasn't all that known and popular, so it seemed like it came out of nowhere to the majority of the internet (which, it didn't, holy shit, those sluts have been so gay with each other for so long). It also was a time when most people only began realising that ccQuackity was capable of serious lore, which most likely added to how the ship was seen. Even I myself actually was very hesitant to bring it up to my partner, when I began slowly getting into it - of course while simultaneously deluding myself that it's nothing more than a crack ship for me (@octobre-ackedia oh would you look at how we ended up--).

This art was one of the first pieces that were fully serious, and couldn't be construed in any way shape or form as /p, so it got picked up by people on twitter and memed on. Around September 2021 tntblr began reclaiming it (and if I remember correctly we had a boom of posts sharing the original artist about that time).

In this surge of new people beginning to ship those two that's been happening for the past year or so, I need you all to remember that quackbur started off first as a very underground ship that almost no-one spoke of, and then became a crack ship. The header on my blog doesn't come from a "ha ha funny" self deprecating meme. #twquackburshipping was a tag that someone seriously used to tag a post about how Eret commented on some tntduo/r tiktok.

I get how easy it is to forget how anti-mainstream of a ship quackbur used to be (or simply miss that, if you're newer - which, for the record, no shame, I'm happy to see the new faces!), considering ccQuackity's endorsement of it in the last months of dsmp, not to mention what's happening on qsmp, but all those "omg I'm a quackbur shipper ha ha don't hate me ha I'm cringe I know" jokes used to genuinely not be jokes something like 1,5 years ago.

I hope this explains it thoroughly, and to everyone a little bit newer to the ship: welcome! Glad to see you here, remember to have fun, and if you've got any questions, feel free to ask me :]]

#tnt duo #tntblr #tntduo #quackbur #c!quackbur #wilbur soot #quackityhq #wilbur #quackity #dsmp #dream smp #support art #revivedbur #qsmp

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mooishbeam · 3 months

Text

『♡』 The Remarkable Machine Who Learned How to Love

♡ featuring: toji x f!reader

♡ cw/tw: none, a little angst but a whole lot of fluff! wc: 1.6k+

notes: i was thinking about this all day and decided to whip up somethin in a couple hours. hope u like :P art by manuel_juju on twitter! comments and reblogs are appreciated!

In a kill-or-be-killed world, Toji reached the top of the food chain—unfortunately, staying at the top is a thousand times harder than the climb. And when he looked down, there was no one to catch his fall.

Before Toji met you, he was as aimless as a speck of dust, carried endlessly by an unpredictable tide of winds. He followed the cracked and crumbled path bespoken for lost souls like himself. Destined to be nothing but a vessel, a hollow man of sturdy muscle who worked himself to the bone, filthy jobs common men wouldn’t dare consider, because who was there to stop him anyway? Was there anything left for men birthed from hopeless circumstances, raised by broken homes to turn to lives of criminality? He couldn’t find an answer. He wasn’t equipped with the empathy to understand why guilt gnawed at his conscious; why whenever he ate takeout in his dimly lit apartment, it spilled out the chasm in his chest.

It was much easier to complete the task, to trudge to a check cashing facility to retrieve money he couldn’t care less about. Perhaps he’d walk this earth alone forever, constantly watching over his back from a fear of daggers shooting from every direction, waiting to strike at his most vulnerable. It was only a matter of time.

Or maybe he’d allow his sins to surpass him. Accept the peaceful release of death and pay the price of a vacant funeral service.

It was all but irreparable, until he walked into his usual convenience store and encountered the new clerk at the register. It was past midnight, and Toji placed the quick meal on the counter. When his tired eyes panned up from those frozen noodles, his heart reset, a part he thought died amidst the torment. It skipped across his ribcage, stopped until a fleeting breath pulled him back to reality, to the intense fluorescent lights and your warm welcoming smile. There wasn’t a single altercation that stole the air from his lungs the way you did.

Life hadn’t torn you apart yet.

Your eyes didn’t break away, unexpected, as Toji was used to people hanging their heads near him. He’s aware of his threatening stare and intimidating stature; it’s what keeps him alive. And you were unbothered. You scanned his item, and flashed those pearly whites that sent a nosedive straight to his stomach, “I’m a big fan of this brand!”

Toji remained tight lipped, unwilling to sift through difficult emotions and experience a feeling he believed himself to be undeserving of. He nodded, and somehow you continued, “Shouldn’t eat so late, though. Messes with your stomach.” A puff of wind pushed from his nose before he could stifle it. “Are you a doctor in the daytime?” You chuckled and bagged, “Sorry, slow day.”

He arrives the same week, searching for a couple of beers to bring back to his apartment. You were in an obviously dangerous position, with one foot off the step ladder as you attempted to push a bottle of cleaner onto the highest shelf. It was a fight between gravity, and the opponent nearly won before his hand grabbed the handle. “Oh! Thank you” you smiled. It was sunnier than the last and reopened the stitches he’d been struggling to sew since that moment.

Toji suddenly had countless excuses to go to the convenience store. Sometimes he’d enter for a snack, and you’d discuss your favorite chips, other times he pretended to need items just to hear your voice ramble about a niche topic you knew too much about. When his heart thrummed off kilter, and his mind became consumed with thoughts of the pretty night-shift cashier, a piece of him demeaned. How embarrassing it was, to be attracted to the scripted kindness of a service worker. Toji barely recognized he had favorites, let alone desires. So why did he have such an unwavering desire to see you?

He’d snatch a pack of noodles one day, a subconscious grin at the joining of your eyes. It didn’t matter if the twinkle in your gaze wasn’t exclusive to him; for a second, it felt like someone cared, and it was fulfillment he couldn’t shake.

You leaned over the counter on your elbows, “Did you know there’s over 35,000 ramen noodles restaurants in Japan?”

“I didn’t, but that sounds like a lot of options.”

“Mhm, you should try one. The real thing is way better.”

“I’m sure. I don’t really go out to restaurants often, so…”

“Me neither”, there’s a lengthy pause, and you finally blurted, “maybe we could go together!”

He was stunned. Lost for words, really. It wasn’t possible, a girl as beautiful as you who wants to be seen with a stone-cold machine in public. It had to be a prank, a fabrication by fate to taunt him. You grew an anxious smile, “Hah, sorry, I overstep-“

“I want to.” You stiffened, and he found solace in your shared nervousness. “O-oh! Great!”

Toji’s first date with you had been a disaster, though. He’s heavy handed by design, and it’s no different in his daily life. His strength leads to instances of clumsy behavior. He expected you to be appalled, disgusted, or at least judgmental.

You never shunned him. When he held your hand too tight, you slightly unclasped it. He wanted to retreat, to stuff them in his pockets and remain at a safe distance. But you interlocked hands and spoke soft, “It's okay, just try not to hold so tight.”

He swung the door open for your entry and almost shattered the glass door on the opposite wall. “I appreciate your enthusiasm” you giggled.

He was afraid to even hug you—he might underestimate his strength and crush your sternum. Toji walked you back to your place and turned to leave. “I’ll see ya around.” Despite that, you guided his calloused hands around your waist, slinked into his broad body, and embraced him. Every aspect of you, foreign but comforting—little breaths fanning his shirt, fingers brushing along his back, sugary perfume wafting in his nose.

It was heaven on Earth.

Now years have gone by, and instead of bleached walls and silence greeting him as his eyes crack open in the morning, he smells the familiar scent of pancakes, pans clattering on the stove. He waltzes into the kitchen in a hazy state and admires the aching back of his very pregnant wife. You have a hand assisting your lower back and another on the wooden spatula scrambling eggs.

Toji dropped his past for you after the engagement. He cashed his last check and disappeared from the underground circle without a trace. He was aware if he continued the path he was heading, the result awaiting him was six feet under. The outcome was unimportant, however, you—the image of tears streaming down your face at his poor volition, your figure keeled over his gravesite under dewy grass and wailing for his return to no avail. He couldn’t stomach it. He had to protect you and commit to the next stage of his life. He’d never tell you about his previous work. It was for the best. He’d be selfish, just this once.

One sock is different from the other, wearing loose shorts and a random shirt sitting above your massive belly. It’s his preferred version of you. Your stomach and thighs adorned in stretch marks, shaped like tiger stripes that declare your strength through each dip and curve; It's his greatest honor. You’d take on the complications, unending exhaustion, and hormone imbalances to bless him with a child. Toji hasn’t let you lift a finger since you got pregnant, opting to handle all the household tasks, borderline subservient to the mother of his child. So, his mouth twists when he sees you up so early.

He stands behind you, hands trailing from your upper thighs to your stomach, then the small of your back. You lean into him while he massages circles and whisper a tiny “Good morning.”

“Ya could’ve woke me up” Toji mumbles, kissing your temple. He wraps around to the underside of your belly, mindful of his muscle, and lifts it carefully. His respect for you increases tenfold with the heavy weight on his palms. You hum a pleased noise, sudden relief from your back. He carries it and smooths his thumbs over the taut skin.

“You’re a late sleeper, and I haven’t made breakfast in a long time.”

“Ya don’t have to do a thing, y’know.”

“I know. But I wanna do this for you”, and he grins. It’s quiet, standing in the warmth of your bodies, sunshine glowing through the window to cast an angelic gleam on your face.

Then he feels an imbalance of pressure along his fingers and mild wriggling within your tummy. Toji traces the movements, seeking to play a game with his unborn child. Sometimes it scares him, to bring new life into a world that almost smothered his light. He worries that he’ll end up on the same road as him or he won’t be a good enough father. The journey of parenthood is a long, laborious one. You’re always learning, and Toji’s still processing the basics. It’s complicated, he trips and falters; yet you’re there to support him, through thick and thin, sickness and in health.

What was he if not for you—his pillar, his source of happiness and comfort. You’d given him everything to wish for and infinite reasons to stick around. An iron criminal, bested by no mortal, chipped away by compassion and gentle hands.

“You can let go if it’s too heavy.”

I can stay here forever.

#jujutsu toji #jujutsu kaisen #toji fushiguro #toji fushigro x reader #toji x reader #jjk x reader #jjk

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ghost-proofbaby · 1 year

Text

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR TWO

in which eddie munson and you absolutely hate each other's guts. what happens when your friends make a bet that you can't spend more than twenty four hours consecutively together?

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, eventual smut, upside down does not exist, minors dni, eddie is especially mean in this one (be warned), mentions of blood (in metaphors, not literal)

→ pairings: modern!college!eddie x college!fem!reader

→ wc: 4k+

→ a/n: i just wanted to take a quick moment to say thank you for all the love on the first chapter of this!! i appreciate it beyond words <3

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

2:00 ─ㅇ───────────────── 24:00

HOUR TWO - 5:00 PM

It’s a miracle. Eddie is surprisingly quiet for the first hour after your small kitchen dispute.

He resides reading a book on one end of his couch as you sit awkwardly on the other end, fiddling with your hands before finally caving and deciding to scroll mindlessly on your phone. You exhaust every social media app you have downloaded – Instagram, Twitter, Tumblr – before finally turning to Tik Tok. Adjusting your volume doesn’t even cross your mind.

That’s all it takes to finally set Eddie off.

It starts small; he shifts around after the first video, a prolonged sigh after the second video, a quick side-eye after the third video. Finally, after the fourth video and no sign of you turning down the volume, he huffs and snaps his book shut.

“Do you have to watch that shit so loudly?”

His tone is laden with utter annoyance. You’re caught off guard initially, having blatantly ignored his previous signs of being irritated by the noise, and your head whips up in his direction with wide eyes. The shocked look on your face quickly contorts when you catch his stare, full of hatred and vexation.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you scoff, “Let me just die of boredom I guess.”

“I didn’t say you had to do that,” he narrows his gaze and matches your attitude with ease, “Just… solve the boredom quietly. Like I did.”

“You were quiet because you had a book. I don’t have a book.”

He waves an exasperated hand towards the coffee table where you catch sight of a few magazines, “Please, take your pick.”

You lock your phone reluctantly, tucking it beneath your thigh as you lean forward to glance over your options. There’s one about cars, obvious by the shiny vehicle that sits pretty on the cover, and a few hidden beneath it. You reach out and shift the laminated papers about and catch sight of a Rolling Stone cover.

That one piques your interest, but stubborn as ever, you won’t admit it.

“Those are the most boring fucking magazines I’ve ever seen. Who the hell likes to read about cars?” you deadpan, holding the car magazine up with a scowl.

“Me.”

“Predictable. What’s next, a Playboy?”

“You’re hilarious,” he says without a hint of amusement, “Truly a comedian. Can’t you just see the tears streaming out of my eyes from how hard I’m laughing? Incredible.”

You decide to not entertain him any further. Your hand grabs the Rolling Stone magazine, ignoring his burning gaze before you settle back into the couch.

If he wanted to be a dick, that was fine. You were used to it by now; you’d spent the last year growing accustomed to his cold shoulders and his bitter moods around you. At this point, you expected nothing less from him. Spending a little extra time together didn’t magically change it – at both your cores, you harbored a disdain like no other. You fundamentally hated Eddie, and Eddie fundamentally hated you. The confined space, forced proximity, ticking doomsday clock, and promise of cash did nothing to put any notches in those feelings.

“Interesting choice,” he murmurs under his breath, beginning to relax back into the cushions as well.

“What? Is it a crime for me to like-” you pause, flipping the magazine shut to check the slick cover for what the specific issue was even about, “-The Ramones?”

So maybe saying you liked The Ramones was an overstatement. But at this point, you’re only picking a fight for the sake of picking a fight. Because you don’t know how else to communicate with Eddie aside from with a sharp tongue and turbulent sense of sarcasm. Because when it came to the two of you, there was no such thing as small talk.

Everything was always big. Loud. Screaming matches, bold assumptions, critical insults.

“Pump the bitch breaks,” his eyebrows furrow, as they always do when he glances your way, “I was trying to be civil.”

“I didn’t think civil was in your vocabulary when it came to me.”

He exhales deeply, letting his head fall back in contempt for a moment before he lifts it and looks at you, “Is this really how you want it to be?”

You don’t reply, and he takes it as his cue to continue.

“Do you really want to keep up the miserable act the entire twenty four hours? Won’t it get exhausting acting like a spoiled brat for that long?”

“I’m not acting like a spoiled brat,” you snap, the magazine now discarded and draped across your knee, open to a random spread, “As far as I’m concerned, it’s not an act. Make no mistake, Munson, I am only doing this for the cash.”

His book lays to gather dust on the coffee table as he leans his elbows onto his knees, twisting his body ever so slightly to face you more fully, “Really? There’s gotta be easier ways to make cash. I’m sure if you asked Stevie boy real nicely, he would have let you put that mouth to use for a quick buc-”

You cut him off, because you know how this sentence ends, and it’s too far. He’s crossed a line. You had expected it, should have seen it coming sooner, but it’s crossing a line all the same.

“Stop,” you firmly instruct, holding up a finger, “Not that it’s any of your miserable business, but me and Steve are not like that. At all. So you can fuck right off with that comment,” you only pause briefly, and you’re glad when he doesn’t interrupt you, “And, may I remind you, you’re also getting payment out of this. I could say the same thing to you, dickwad.”

It had been a curious itch beneath your skin – you knew why you needed the extra cash so badly, but you had no idea why Eddie did. Beneath all the hate, all the irritation, the question had come to mind briefly. But it had been pushed down by disinterest in all things regarding the man before you. At the end of the day, you didn’t care what motivated him. You didn’t care about what he did for work, you didn’t care about what magazines he read, and you definitely didn’t care to know if the five hundred was as necessary for him as it was for you.

This was a means to an end – nothing more, nothing less.

“Dickwad?” His nose crinkles as he parrots your words back to you, “Jesus, did you ever learn any new insults past middle school?”

You’re ignoring him once more, picking the magazine up off of your knee and burying your nose in an article about the greatest punk albums of all time rather than letting yourself be dragged into further conversation with him, trying to send the message that this discussion was over.

The message isn’t received. It flies right over his head.

“Pardon me for the assumption,” you can see him hold his hands up in mock surrender in your peripherals, “You and Harrington just seem close.”

You should just keep ignoring him. You should actually read the words inches from your face. You shouldn’t say another word; your gut is screaming at you to not say another word.

But you ignore your gut, just as he’d ignore your disinterest in talking to him.

“What happened to being quiet? I think I liked it better when you weren’t speaking to me,” you try to say casually, keeping an air of indifference. You should have known better. As your mother always said, once you start feeding a stray, they continue to come back.

“Sounds like it’s a sore spot. Are you and Harrington that close?”

“Not in that way,” you grit out behind the pages, “We’re close, but not like that.”

Your answer doesn’t satisfy him like you’d hoped, “Oh, it is so a sore spot.”

When you finally drop the magazine to properly look at him again, it only fans the anger. He looks smug as he crosses his ankle atop his knee, leaning back and looking you over as if he can read you like cellophane.

“It’s not,” you stress, “Seriously. Drop it.”

In all truthfulness, it wasn’t a sore spot – not when it came to Steve. You’d always been strictly platonic, fitting fairly effortlessly into his and Robin’s friendship.

“You definitely want to fuck Steve.”

“You know what I actually want right now?”

“Please, enlighten me.”

“To knock your teeth in.”

The magazine is tossed back onto the table, nearly sliding off the edge from the force behind your throw. He’s relishing the way you’re continuing to get more upset, the way he’s still inching beneath your skin in a grating motion. To him, this is all just a joke.

“I’d love to see you try, sweetheart,” he mocks, smiling with his teeth as if to taunt you.

“Why did you even agree to this?” you finally turn your body towards his and mirror his position, “Is it fun to you? Is that what it is?”

The smile widens, “You know what? Yeah. It is fun to piss you off.”

“Yeah?” you imitate him, putting on a forced smile in an attempt to look as ridiculous as he did right now. You fold your hands and prop your elbows onto your knees, continuing to mock mercilessly as you balance your chin atop them and bat your lashes dramatically, “Please, tell me more. Tell me all about how fun it is.”

In an instant, you drop the smile and begin to return to your previous position. It was rhetorical – you don’t expect a response, and yet he offers one nonetheless.

“Well,” he begins, “First of all, the way you go red in the face is fucking hilarious. Seriously, it’s just like the cartoons. Absolutely ridiculous. I think by the end of this, I’ll get to see steam come out of your ears,” you’re already reaching for your phone, tuning him out, as he continues on, “And then it’s the way you’re just so damn easy. I mean, come on. Sometimes, all I have to do is breathe, and it sends you on a tirade. You just make it too simple, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. The nickname is prickly and as uncomfortable as ever, lodging into your ears against your better judgment. It creeps across your brain, travels down your spine, numbs your fingertips. You hate the shockwaves it’s capable of sending down your nerves.

He’s right, at the end of the day. These days, you hardly put up a fight in expressing all your negative emotions towards him. If necessary, you could pinpoint a time where he really did simply breathe and you had proceeded to curse him out for it. Sometimes, just the sight of him can sour your entire mood. He’s an ever-present, persistent, irritating rain-cloud that looms on the edges of your life by circumstance. You can’t get rid of him. You can’t get rid of your hatred for him; you’ve always had a preference for sunny weather.

“Careful,” you hum, not looking his way as you glance down at the time that glows from your lock screen: 5:46 PM. “It almost sounds like you enjoy my presence, Munson.”

Indifference. You needed to practice indifference to survive the next twenty three hours.

“Oh, that couldn’t be farther from the truth,” he says, “You are the worst part of my days. You’re like bad leftovers – everytime I see you, the bile immediately rises in my throat. Whenever Steve mentions you’ll be somewhere, I cancel plans. Whenever you show up without warning, I start counting down the minutes till I can get away from you.”

The indifference begins to break. You finally look at him, keeping a steady expression.

“You could go missing, you could vanish off the face of this earth, and I wouldn't blink an eye. As a matter of fact, I’d probably celebrate. Why my friends are so enamored with you, I will never understand.”

It hurts. It might be Eddie, and you might be used to his spiteful words he uses as weapons against you, but it still hurts. The sting resembles a slap as you process each of his words. Each deliberate syllable – the specific referencing to the group as his friends and not your friends, the unblinking glare of his dark eyes, the insinuation that your death could bring him joy – drives deeper into your chest. It’s a human reaction; it doesn’t matter if the boy before you is the enemy, it still bruises to hear anyone say such things about you. The human need to be accepted, to be liked, to at least be tolerated, still twists in your gut.

And he only presses forth. He doesn’t catch the pain spreading in your limbs because you don’t let the hurt raging in your chest spread across your face. You don’t let him see you bleed.

“I’d attend your funeral with a party hat and sparklers. Confetti, even. The whole nine yards along with my finest bottle of champagne,” he hammers the final nail into a coffin, one that you’re not sure of whom it belongs to. Maybe it’s yours, sealing you six feet under with your cursed emotions. Maybe it’s his, locking him into the tomb to dwell in his ability to always take things too far.

You won’t let him see you bleed.

You stand abruptly, making him flinch in the slightest. You keep your face turned from him as you take your phone and storm off into the hallway wordlessly.

“Hey! Where are you going?” he calls after you.

But he’s not following you. No footsteps echo your own as you turn into the only other doorway aside from the bathroom.

He has a clear line of sight of you from the couch, and he can see you disappear into his room.

The door slams shut behind you with a riveting bang. Your nimble fingertips fumble with twisting the lock into place, chest heaving as you finally let your eyes burn.

He can’t see you. You finally bleed.

The tears are feverish as they roll down your cheeks one by one, taking slow steps backward as you squeeze them shut and will them away. There are no accompanying whimpers, or sobs, or hiccups. It’s just you, the salty streams, and the now overwhelming scent of him.

He’s only managed to make you cry, make you bleed this way, once before. The night of Steve’s party, the night you had attempted to make him bleed in retaliation. You’d harbored the need to cut him open desperately that night, to crack open his chest and assure yourself he could bleed the same scarlet as you, that there was still a weathered heart behind his calloused ribs that could beat the same as yours.

But you never did. At the end of that night, you had been the only one left bloodied and bandaged, aside from Steve’s glass as collateral damage. He remained unscathed.

The door knob shakes suddenly, and your eyes flash back open. Another shake, and you hear him huffing.

“Seriously? Did you just lock me out of my own room?” His voice comes from the other side of the door.

The bleeding stops. The wound seals. Even if he can’t see you through the door, just to know that his presence resides on the other side of it is enough to put an end to your trembling breaths.

“Fuck off,” you call out hoarsely.

“Let me in. It’s my room.”

“No.”

He sighs, and a thump sounds that you assume is his forehead falling against the wood in defeat, “Why do you insist on acting like a child?”

“You’re the one with a collection of action figures!” you fight back with your weakest insult of the night. He twists the doorknob without fruition a few more times, a couple sharp knocks sound as you turn to get a better look at the room you’d run into without observation.

It’s nothing extravagant, which makes sense. He has an entire apartment to spill his wretched personality across, which means there’s no need to condense it into the decor of his bedroom. He doesn’t have to express himself in a limited space as you do with your dorm. There’s a few posters of various bands hung crookedly on the wall, a dresser with a few of the drawers half open with assortments of clothes peeking out before they overflow onto the carpeted flooring, and a bed left unmade. His jersey sheets are plaid, worn and clearly well-loved. Despite the expected mess trailing about the rest of the floor, the space beside the bed is left cleared, and you decide to settle yourself down onto the patch.

Your phone buzzes in your tight fist as your back settles up against the side of the bed.

“Unlock the door,” his voice persists impatiently again.

“Go to Hell.”

“I’m already there. Stuck with you.”

Maybe the wound isn’t quite sealed, because the words fall like salt into your chest.

“Why my friends are so enamored with you, I will never understand.”

There’s more to say, but the chiming of a phone cuts off your thoughts. You glance down to your cell phone – not yours.

The ringing is more muted, behind the door. With Eddie.

It’s Eddie’s phone.

You’re about to call out a snarky remark about him getting that, but the ringing cuts off before you have the chance. It’s clear he’s walked away from the door as the echoes of his voice fades, the conversation inaudible to you through the walls.

Your fingers dig into the carpet beside your thighs as you pull at individual strands that stick out, finally discarding your phone on the opposite side. Eventually, your touch trails closer to the edge of the bed, plucking, plucking, plucking until you collide with laminated paper sticking out from beneath the bed.

What’s this?

Just as you’re about to pull what you assume is a magazine from beneath the bed, your phone begins to buzz violently, this time the ringtone being your own.

The screen lights up with Steve’s contact photo. It can’t be good.

“Hello?” you answer once you pick the phone up after a few moments of pause.

“You can’t lock him out of his own room.”

“Oh, hey, Steve. I’m great, thanks for asking. Really living the drea-”

“You can’t lock him out of his own room,” Steve repeats with more emphasis, disregarding your sarcastic tone completely.

You stare across the room at an acoustic guitar resting on a stand. This machine slays dragons, it reads in bold, white lettering.

“So you were the one who called him,” you mumble.

Steve sighs over the line, “No. Nance called him, because you haven’t sent the proof to the chat yet. We were trying to give you guys a grace period, but-”

“But you assumed we’d already murdered each other,” you finish his sentence.

“Can you blame us? What did he even say to make you board yourself up in his room?”

You scoff softly, “He didn’t tell Nancy?”

The moment Steve mentioned Nancy was the one calling Eddie, you’d simply assumed he’d filled her in.

Before you’d weaseled your way into the friend group, there had been clear, strong bonds already set in place: Robin & Steve, Jonathan & Argyle, and Nancy & Eddie. Three sets of best friends who all wove together to form their large friend group with ease.

You were the odd man out. They never treated you as such, except for Eddie, but it was an insecurity that could eat you alive if you ever gave it the time of day. And maybe that was why Eddie’s earlier words had cut so deeply. He was voicing a fear you always tried to bury deep down.

“No,” Steve says as if it were obvious, “He just started going off about how you had locked him out of his room amongst…. Um, amongst other things.”

Other things. You could guess what those other things had been; no doubt, he’d spent his time on the phone bitching about you. He’d probably called you every crude name in his rolodex of hatefulness.

“Right,” you drawl, eyes flickering around the room to seek out another distraction to mindlessly stare at. Suddenly, you remember the magazine you had discovered just as Steve called, “Well, nothing surprising. The usual, really. Just how he hates my guts, he finds me annoying, he wouldn’t care if I died-”

“-What?”

You ignore Steve’s gasp of disbelief and carry on, “-All the classic insults you would say to your arch nemesis.”

Steve says your name softly, still carrying an air of shock, “He didn’t mean that. I- Listen, he’s an asshole sometimes, but I guarantee he would care-”

“Who cares?” you interrupt, “I don’t blame him. It’s fine. He doesn’t have to care if I meet my untimely demise. I kind of figured he was going to murder me anyways, remember?”

“Yeah, but that was… that was joking around, he…” Steve trails off, because you both know he’s full of shit.

There was no joking around between you and Eddie. A painful truth, considering when you first joined the friend group, you had such high hopes of getting along with him.

“It’s whatever. Do you still need me to send proof?” you ask, fingers now playing with the crumpled edges of the magazine. Even half-hidden, you could see there were pages that had been dog-eared.

You almost don’t hear Steve as he tells you that it’s fine, that now they know the two of you are definitely together. It’s already nearly time for the next check in anyways.

“Alright, in that case…” your tongue peaks out as you begin to tug the magazine out of hiding. The moment the magazine's title comes into sight, you gasp, frozen as the phone nearly slips out of your hand.

Fucking jackpot.

“You good?” Steve asks.

Playboy. A goddamn Playboy magazine.

“Never better,” you rush out, eager to hang up so you can utilize this ammunition against Eddie, “Talk later, Steve-O.”

You don’t give him a chance to echo a goodbye before you hang up, tossing your phone off to the side with a muted thump. Your focus is entirely on the magazine before you, crinkling as you hold it in your hands and bite back laughter.

Against your better judgment, you open the cover, mouth falling open as you flip through page after page of nude women and cigarette ads. Some pages stick together, and you don’t dare to peel them apart, cringing at the thought of just why they’re sticky. You come to the first page that had been dog-earred, and your jaw clicks as your mouth falls agape.

Fucking pervert. He’s a goddamn pervert.

A well-timed knock sounds at the door once more, Eddie’s knuckles sharp in their three strikes, “Can you let me in now?”

It’s the closest to a please you’re going to get.

“Sorry, busy!” you call out in response, still staring at the spread.

The nude woman eerily resembles you. Same hair, same skin tone, similar noses. The Universe has dropped the most loving of gifts in your laps in the form of this magazine, something you know you can use to get under Eddie’s skin as severely as he had done to you.

“Busy?” he protests, knocking on the door again before you hear the shaking of the doorknob again, “What the fuck are you doing in there? I told you, don’t touch my shit.”

You bite your lip, smile curling the corners of your mouth as you finally stand from the floor, knees cracking as you keep the magazine open to the photo. Eddie has gone scarily quiet, and you can’t even make out his breathing. His shadow has stilled completely as it peaks in from under the doorway.

He’s never living this down.

You’re still grinning with ill-intent as you shout, “Wow. Who knew I was right about the Playboy?”

Those words are all it takes for the frantic pounding on the door to begin.

taglist: @catherinnn @haylaansmi @gaysludge @paprikaquinn @manda-panda-monium @audhd-dragonaut @amira0303 @blushingquincy @imtryingahh @hellkaisersangel @eddieslittlewh0re @liv0679 @ajkamins @prettyboy200 @munsonzzgf @blue-eyed-lion @digwhatudug @eddiemunxson @ohmeg @madaboutjoe @wickedslashdivine @sweet-villain @somespicystuff @whosbettysstuff

(if your name is crossed out like so, it means i am unable to tag you)

taglist is now closed. <3

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #twenty four hours #i still can't believe this got as much attention as it did omg thank y'all

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