#lawyer max au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

norris55s · 1 month

Text

i swear i don’t love the drama (it loves me) - carlos sainz

reader x carlos sainz social media au

she isn’t happy about the way people treat her boyfriend and she isn’t afraid to show it

a/n: i too am tired of the way people speak about carlos so there's this to show for it. this is no hate to charles in case it isn't obvious. no fc, but a couple rebecca donaldson pics for the plot. i loved carlos winning.

————————————————————————

y/nusername

Bahrain International Circuit

liked by carlossainz55 and 45,825 others

y/nusername: repping chili and chili only this season 🌶️

view all 1,053 comments

charles_leclerc: 😧

y/nusername: love you lord perceval 😇

charles_leclerc: 🙃

user492: digging the use of red but no ferrari merch lol i know our bestie is mad

y/nusername: 👹

carlossainz55: Naughty girl 😂

y/nusername: shhh look away

————————————————————————

y/nusername

Bahrain International Circuit

liked by carlossainz55 and 47,935 others

y/nusername: congratulations to lover boy, and lover boy only 👹❤️

view all 4,824 comments

user914: sainz has handled the situation so maturely and his girl is out here being messy

y/nusername: that’s because i’m not carlos, hope that helps 😴

user014: why is she doing the most 😭

y/nusername: i wouldn’t have to do shit if someone bothered celebrating his podium with him, so i’ll take matters into my own hands 🫡

landonorris: we gotta take your phone away

y/nusername: try me!

carlossainz55: ❤️

y/nusername: 🔥

————————————————————————

y/nusername

liked by carlossainz55 and 50,294 others

y/nusername: appendicitis couldn’t take carlos down, everyone else can stop trying

view all 3,024 comments

carlossainz55: ❤️

landonorris: in your nurse era 👩‍⚕️

y/nusername: more like in my security guard and lawyer era 🤪

user824: it’s carlos’ karma for every time he’s screwed charles over

y/nusername: oh bitch you’ll know karma when it hits y’all square in the face

user624: unhinged era! love how she takes care of carlos

y/nusername: u get it

————————————————————————

y/nusername

Albert Park Circuit, Melbourne

liked by carlossainz55 and 42,034 others

y/nusername: showing up to lover boy’s haters’ funeral like

view all 2,035 comments

user583: lmao she acts like he’s a champion she has bragging rights about and not a second driver that is getting sacked

y/nusername: girl he’s back from a surgery with a two weeks recovery to drive a car going 300mph for 3 days, i’m really not hearing y’all today

y/nusername: plus, when he gets a podium, dare i say a win, i’ll laugh

landonorris: pr must love you

y/nusername: i swear i don’t love the drama, it loves me

carlossainz55: That’s a way to say it 😘

————————————————————————

y/nusername

Albert Park Circuit, Melbourne

y/nusername: say hello to the only driver that has managed to end red bull’s dominance not once, but twice 🇪🇸🌶️ (hello to the people who called me delusional for saying he might even win, i did laugh)

view all 5,244 comments

maxverstappen1: I feel like you jinxed me 😐

y/nusername: i prefer to call it manifesting ✨

user898: only because max dnfd lol

y/nusername: k. so why didnt someone else win it? quickly

user914: she’s really out there celebrating another gifted win

y/nusername: hey i got a question did you watch the race? 😀

user168: this is why everyone dislikes the sainz camp. no reason at all to disrespect charles and the team.

y/nusername: i’m literally sat next to charles celebrating over dinner but ok

user823: i love how she and carlos keep pretending charles likes them lol

y/nusername: somehow carlos, charles, everyone we know, and me are liars, but you people on the internet, who have never even met us, know the actual truth about the raging fight between c2

user463: i’m loving this y/n era, she’s had ENOUGH 💀

y/nusername: if not me, who? if not now, when? 👹

————————————————————————

carlossainz55

Albert Park Circuit, Melbourne

liked by y/nusername and 1,223,293 others

carlossainz55: P1!! What a rollercoaster 🎢!! Special thank you to my biggest support, my lovely y/nusername 🥰

view all 14,045 comments

y/nusername: i got you always chili 🥹❤️

user274: sainz supremacy!

y/nusername: period

user924: vile that he doesn’t congratulate his teammate that let him win and condones his crazy ass girlfriend’s comments

y/nusername: y’all want me to chill and then comment shit like this. leave my bf’s post alone! also what is he gonna do ground me like a kid?

carlossainz55: Hermosa, calm down 😈

y/nusername: shhh look away

————————————————————————

y/nusername has added to her stories

#f1 #f1 au #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #formula 1 #f1 smau #f1 social media au #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz au #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz social media au #carlos sainz smau

1K notes · View notes

writingstoraes · 9 months

Text

the other side 🥡

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!horner!reader

type: instagram imagine, social media au

notes: this was actually a request but it somehow got lost in my inbox so im so sorry to whoever requested this 😭 i hope you still see this though and i hope u like it! lmk what u guys think hehehe

about: fans adore your support for ferrari, given your dad is literally their rival's team principal.

ynhorner

liked by therealgerihalliwell, redbullracing, charles_leclerc, and 1,201,294 others

ynhorner had the best view at monaco 🏎️

(ps. i hope my dad isn't using his instagram right now)

christianhorner I have no words....

ynhorner see u at home 😘

redgirlz LMAOOO THIS IS SO FUNNY

maxverstappen ??? Hello

ynhorner hi, max :)

daylightcharles if years ago you told me christian horner's own daughter would be openly supporting ferrari i would have laughed in your face

hamilecs not charles liking this 😭

sainzlines QUEEN DO U PLAN ON WATCHING SOMEDAY AT FERRARI'S GARAGE 🎤🎤

ynhorner i would if i'd still be my dad's daughter afterwards

ynhorner

liked by christianhorner, landonorris, pierregasly, and 1,028,248 others

ynhorner i may scream "forza ferrari sempre" during race weekends, but i am my dad's daughter still 🫡

therealgerihalliwell There we go, Dad was waiting for you to wear that 😊

ilpredestinato she is me and i am her (i too, would support ferrari to hell and back)

lovesgasly my ferrari queen ❤️

britcedesbros LOVE THE JACKET drop the link pls 🙏

ynhorner dad brought it home after seeing me check out another ferrari cap 😆

ynhorner recently added to her instagram story!

ynhorner

liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc, therealgerihalliwell, and 1,019,294 others

ynhorner clearing my gallery so enjoy this race week’s dump! life's good when i'm not torn between two teams; i can bust my lungs out to "super max" and forza ferrari my way every sunday ❤️

queensland mother pls tell me that man is just an uber driver

charlierari That's literally Charles 😭 loverslane reaching we can't even see the face???

paddockgirlie MAM IS THAT CHARLES PLS SPEAK INTO THE MIC

ynhorner i think my lawyer says i'd rather not say anything 😅

maxverstappen Glad to know "Super Max" is on your playlist

ynhorner are you kidding? i play that when i drive so i can get to where i'm going faster christianhorner Your karting races are not an excuse for you to overtake whenever you want, Y/N ynhorner it's okay i'm driving a ferrari anyway :D

ynhorner

liked by therealgerihalliwell, lewishamilton, charles_leclerc, and 1,503,994 others

ynhorner okay maybe there's another reason why i love ferrari, but it's really not my fault they signed someone so breathtaking and loveable to be their driver 🤷‍♀️

merchamilton someone check up on christian quick

sainzzzzham Y/N IS UR DAD OKAY 😭

ynhorner oh don't worry about him, i'm sure he'll be fine!

charles_leclerc Saw the sign today, apparently that's why you sent me out to buy red poster board?

ynhorner yes, gotta stick to my ferrari girl agenda

paddocklovez MY NEW PARENTS ❤️

maxverstappen Finally, growing tired of hiding Charles when he visits the garage 😐

christianhorner So you were in on this? maxverstappen For legal reasons, I will be blocking you.

------------

tagging: @slytherheign, @honethatty12, @siovhanroy, @cxcewg, @sassyheroneckgiant (lmk if anyone else wants to be part of my taglist!)

notes: tysm for reading <3

2K notes · View notes

solaireverie · 8 months

Text

dr3 + mv33 | call it what you want

pairing: daniel ricciardo x max verstappen x f!reader

summary: [ social media au ] the internet will believe anything but the truth about you and your boyfriends

warnings: language, there's a few jokes about dan and y/n "adopting" max

faceclaim: gemma chan

author’s note: RAH RAH POLYSHIPPING LET'S GO PARTY PEOPLE. this au is so close to my heart. enjoy!

liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo, landonorris and 348,195 others

tagged: maxverstappen1, danielricciardo

yourusername the kenergy is strong 🏖

view comments

user we can always count on y/n to confirm that the boys are still alive during break 😌

↪ yourusername at your service 🫡

landonorris max's shirt lol

↪ yourusername daniel convinced him that it's fashionable 🙄

↪ danielricciardo was i wrong?

↪ yourusername keep telling yourself that 😐

↪ maxverstappen1 you didn't like it?

↪ yourusername NO babe that's not what i meant. you looked great ❤️ just maybe think twice before listening to daniel's fashion advice in the future

↪ danielricciardo EXCUSE YOU 😒

liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1 and 258,742 others

tagged: maxverstappen1, yourusername

daniel3.jpg respect the cuddle schedule, y/n ☹️

view comments

yourusername screw the cuddle schedule i got here first

↪ yourusername it's max's fault for taking too long in the shower anyways

↪ maxverstappen1 lies. slander. my lawyers will be in contact

user what's the story behind the caption and the comments 👀

↪ maxverstappen1 y/n was being mean

↪ yourusername max was being a sore loser

↪ user i'm still confused 🧐

user why do they need a cuddle schedule in the first place???

↪ yourusername because max and daniel like to hog each other 😺

↪ user y/n having to fight for her bf's attention with his best friend 😮‍💨 i could never

user jimmy and sassy at the last picture: are we a joke to you 🤨

↪ yourusername nOOoOoOoo i love my adopted cat children very much i promise 😭

yourusername has added to their story

seen by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 893,127 others

249,836 likes

formulafashion max verstappen attends close friend y/n l/n's birthday party in a bespoke suit, which is a rare move for the typically casually dressed driver.

when asked about his outfit choice, max said that it was "a favor" and that "they're lucky i love them" 😳 could love be in the cards for red bull's superstar?

view comments

user *they're* lucky i love *them* 👀

user when did max get have the time to date? he's always with daniel and y/n 😂

↪ user maybe it's one of their mutual friends? 🤷

user whoever it is i hope that y/n and daniel approve 🥹

↪ user who are we kidding, they've probably given max's partner the shovel talk already lol

liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo, yourbestfriend and 1,684,239 others

tagged: maxverstappen1, danielricciardo

yourusername they are the best thing that's ever been mine 🤍

view comments

user THE TWIST 😱😱😱

danielricciardo the triangle is the strongest shape 😌

↪ maxverstappen1 you are so cringe

↪ yourusername don't listen to him he's wearing your hoodie and blushing rn 🥹

user who saw this coming be honest

↪ landonorris me 🙋 btw @.danielricciardo you still owe me five gallons of milk for sneaking max and y/n into your driver's room

likes and reblogs are appreciated!

masterlist | taglist: @boiohboii

906 notes · View notes

antxlss · 6 months

Text

but, you’re my boss II

pairing: anakin skywalker x reader (modern au)

summary: the day comes for your big blind date. you should hate the guy, but you can’t help but let him grow on you.

warnings: none

words: 2.3k

a/n: guys I was so quick with this one. anyways this is giving enchanted by taylor swift vibes to me. let me know how you guys like it! ~ max <3

-—————————⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆—————————-

part I | series masterlist | my masterlist

You wake up on Monday morning to the sound of your phone going off next to your bed.

You look at the time, it's 7am, it's time to get ready for work.

You pick up your phone and open your texts to see a message from Padmé. She sent it just a minute ago.

Good morning queen, I have the details for your date and I have to tell you the man is hot (but I don't want to give you any expectations). But go get 'em, bitch. Tonight, 7pm, go meet him at Sandalwood Cafe!

You groan and slam your face into your pillow.

Why did I agree to this?

You roll out of bed and begin getting ready for work.

You spend most of the day nervous, your mind racing with doubts about the date and if you'll click with the guy. You start to wonder if you made a mistake agreeing to it, but the doubt is constantly shoved aside by Padmé's positive tone and support.

As soon as work lets out, you head home to get ready for the date. As a last minute touch up, you spray some perfume under your elbows, the type of perfume that Padmé told you her new Tinder match had told her he liked. You check over in the mirror one last time before heading out.

You decide to walk to the small cafe since it is only a few blocks from your apartment.

You arrive and step into to the cute establishment.

You look around for a few seconds before your eyes land on a handsome looking young man sitting in a chair near the doorway. He's a little on the taller side, his dark blond hair and blue eyes making him very charming. As he notices you walk through the door into the cafe, his eyes immediately find yours, and a small smile creeps onto his cheeks.

You smile back as you take in his appearance. He looks nice and well put together, probably a lawyer or a doctor or something like that. Someone you'd see on television.

Your breath got knocked out of you. You could've sworn you looked petrified.

It was your fucking boss.

Why would Padmé do this? She knows how you feel about that conceited asshole.

You paint a polite smile on your face and try your best to contain yourself.

"I am. And you are?" You ask, even though you very much know who he is.

You can't believe he does t even recognize you. You honestly weren't even shocked.

He gets to his feet to meet you, extending his hand out to you. He's much taller than you, and you look up at him. His eyes are locked on to yours and you can't help but get a little lost in them.

He speaks with a very smooth but gentle confidence to the point that you just want to stare at him while he speaks.

"I'm Anakin. Anakin Skywalker. I'm so glad you could make it. Would you like to come sit down?"

You internally groan. If you weren't literally desperate for male interaction, you would've just walked out. Might as well just give it a try.

You follow Anakin as he leads you to the table he was previously occupying.

He pulls out your seat for you and waits for you to sit down before he seats himself across from you.

He smiles and leans forward, putting his elbows on the table as his eyes continue to gaze intently at yours, never breaking the eye contact for more than a few seconds.

He speaks without the gentility he showed when you first met. "Padmé told me what I was getting myself into and I have to say, I still can't believe how beautiful you are in person. I hope you don't mind me saying."

Your heart fluttered at his flattery. Why did he have to be so much of a gentleman. You wanted so badly to hate him. To be fair he's never given you a reason to do so.

"Thank you." You smile. "So, how do you know Padmé?"

He's in complete control of his emotions and shows the same confidence he did while at work. You feel completely powerless as you're unable to resist his charm. You can tell Padmé wasn't kidding, he's absolutely charming.

Still staring intently at your face, he leans forward onto his elbows.

"Oh, she and I matched on Tinder a few days ago. She thought we might hit it off, so she set me up on this date." He speaks like it's the most natural thing in the world.

"Oh, so that bitch gave me her seconds. I see how it is." You laugh. "I'm assuming she wasn't into you, you know, since she set us up?"

He chuckles, completely unfazed by what you said by the insult.

He leans one elbow back on the table and clasps his hands together, still staring intently at your eyes and speaking with that same charm, as if there was no tension between him and your relationship with Padmé.

"No, she says she thinks I'm great! In fact, she thought I was handsome, which was why Padmé sent me your way."

He lets out another small chuckle, still keeping eye contact.

"No offense, but you definitely aren't her type. She goes for the more grungy 'bad boy' type." You giggle.

Once again, Anakin seems unfazed by what you said.

While he's still leaning in on one of his elbows against the table, he still is staring intently at you.

He speaks, still confidently.

"Well... I'm not too sure about her type... she did swipe right on me though, so I guess that counts for something?" He chuckles, still staring at you, not breaking eye contact.

You decided to get risky. What did you have to lose.

"Well you may not be Padmé's type, but you're mine."

Anakin keeps looking at you and you notice that his eyebrows raise. His gaze is still sharp, but now there's a twinkle in his eye as he smiles at you.

You feel butterflies in your stomach and you can't stop smiling.

Anakin leans forward and rests his elbows back on the table.

"Oh?" He smiles, keeping eye contact.

"Mhm." You smile, not breaking the eye contact.

You feel your heart pounding in your chest.

Anakin remains seated for a moment longer.

With a slightly deeper voice than before, Anakin speaks and looks you straight in the eyes without blinking.

"I'd like to take you out." His eyes go back to you smiling. "On another date... that is."

You laugh. "Anakin we've only been talking for like two minutes. We know nothing about each other."

Yeah like the fact that he's your fucking employer. You have to tell him that you work for his company. He's literally your boss. He'll find out eventually either way.

He chuckles, and with a look of confidence on his face he leans forward.

"Maybe we don't know anything about each other in terms of our pasts, but I do know a bit about you." And he stares directly at your eyes.

"From this conversation, I've found out a few things about you. You're a beautiful girl with a great sense of humor. You're confident but not in an arrogant way. And you're not too hard to look at," Anakin laughs a little, smiling and maintaining eye contact.

"Hmm, we'll I guess you know me pretty well." You joke. "But really, let's just talk, get to know each other, and then by the end of the night I'll let you know if I want you to take me out again."

Anakin lets out a soft chuckle and leans back slightly, still looking at you with his charming smile.

"You know what? That seems fair. We just got here."

He chuckles again, still speaking with that same confidence and smooth, gentle tone in his voice.

"The night is still young, and so far you seem awesome."

"So far... Okay, ask me a question, what do you want to know about me?" You ask.

He sits back in his chair, crossing one of his legs over the other at the knee.

He puts both of his elbows on the table and leans forward towards your direction, keeping his attention on you.

He looks at you for a second before speaking, thinking of a good question.

"Where are you from?"

"I'm from Texas, but I moved to New York City to attend Baruch College. I liked it here so much, I decided to stay." You reply.

It's hard for you to even keep eye contact with him. His looks, his confidence, his smooth, gentle voice.

He speaks like he's not distracted at all and fully in the moment, like your beauty did not even throw him off.

"Why'd you choose that college specifically?"

"Really just because it's in the city." You shrug. "What about you, where are you from?"

"Hmph, fair enough."

Anakin chuckles.

"I'm from the Hamptons. Born and raised."

Oh so he's rich, rich.

There's a pause in which he doesn't quite seem to say everything he was thinking. His eyes are still glued to yours, and you can't stop looking at him either.

"What are you studying at that college?"

"Forensic Phycology. I'm working on my masters right now. Most of my school is online." You reply.

Anakin leans back in his chair again, crossing his legs over each other at the knee. He rests his elbows back onto the table again and leans towards you.

"Forensics, that sounds really interesting. Most of your school is online? How's that working for you?"

He still looks at you with that same charming smile and his eyes on your face, not breaking eye contact for longer than a few seconds.

"It's actually pretty good. I thought I wouldn't enjoy it, but it gives me a chance to work while I finish school." You admit.

Anakin chuckles, and looks back at you for a few seconds.

After a moment of silence, Anakin speaks again and leans forward.

"What is it that you do for work?"

Anakin continues looking you dead in the eyes, a twinkle in his eyes as he waits for your response.

Shit.

You have to tell him. You can't lie. Especially since you are surprisingly really liking him.

"I'm a receptionist. At Skywalker Engineering."

You sit and anxiously wait for his response.

Anakin sits back in his seat a little after you tell him.

After a moment he speaks in a soft tone, a bit surprised.

"The receptionist?"

After a second he chuckles.

"I didn't think we had a receptionist. I'll have to talk to HR about that for the next work report."

He continues to chuckle, still looking at you. He seems a little relaxed after hearing that, like it did not bother him in the least.

"We may have to talk to HR about the boss going on a date with his employee." You state smugly. "You really don't recognize me?"

Anakin leans back in his seat, smiling as he responds to your comment. But once your eyes land on him, that twinkle in his eyes returns, and your eye contact becomes almost magnetically drawn to him.

"I recognized you the second I saw your eyes."

A moment of silence.

"You're right though, we will need to talk to HR about that. But for now, this is just between you and me."

He smiles at you.

How could you have ever hated him? You didn't even give him a chance. Now that you've actually talked to him you found out that he doesn't even like his job, he's just carrying on the family business.

The more the night goes on, the more infatuated in him you become.

The night finally comes in. You and Anakin clean up your table and push in your chairs. He walks you out to the street.

Anakin smiles at you as he walks you out to the street.

He extends his arm out and you take it, your fingers brushing against his. His touch is gentle, so soft and soothing, but at the same time the touch is full of passion and desire.

As you walk with him, you look up at him and can't help but smile right back at Anakin.

"I had an amazing time tonight. Thank you for taking me out."

"It was my pleasure." He grinned. "So do you have an answer for my question earlier."

Your cheeks grow red. "Yes Anakin, I'd love to go out with you again."

Anakin's eyes shine with joy and he chuckles, looking at you as he responds.

"You just made my night."

He takes you in his arms and leans in close. Your eyes are both locked on each other. He looks at you intently, and you can see every single line of his facial expression. Anakin speaks in a soft and gentle tone, it's as if you're the only two people in the world.

"Can I have a kiss?"

You stiffen up. You haven't kissed someone in almost a year, let alone your boss. You say exactly what was on your mind.

"But, you're my boss."

Anakin just stares at you for a moment, but his gaze remains intense. Your heart is still fluttering in your chest, and Anakin's gentle look is drawing you in. You want to kiss him. You've never felt this way before.

He speaks with this same soft and gentle voice, still looking at you and maintaining eye contact.

"Yes I am."

He leans forward slightly, still keeping you in his arms.

"But, I don't care."

You let go of all your anxieties and let your body guide you as you lean forward to meet Anakin's lips.

You both lean forward at the same time, and his lips meet yours. It's not a quick peck, but a long and drawn out kiss as Anakin continues to hold you in his arms on the sidewalk. It's so passionate, and your hearts are racing. You don't ever want the kiss to end.

To your dismay, Anakin pulls away. You look him in the eyes.

"Thank you for tonight." You smile. "See you at work?"

And with that you turn and walk home with a blush on your face the whole way there.

#anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #anakin smut #anakin x you #star wars anakin #anakin skywalker imagine #hayden christensen x reader smut #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen imagine #hayden christensen

486 notes · View notes

i-cant-sing · 6 months

Text

Okay but this has to be one my fav tropes ever:

And i can imagine the following characters for it:

DABI, because ofc he's the OG no. 1 nonchalant bad boy with childhood trauma pro max. Ofc he fits this trope, and yes he'll burn the world, burn himself for reader.

Bakugo, grumpy LOUD boy but gets quiet when you're around so everyone thinks that he must really hate you but he's just actually shy around you and wouldn't want to spook you away.

Naoya Zenin, for some reason, but like he's more obnoxious than grumpy, but he still fits the trope because I know Naoya, at least Naoya in my AUs, will grovel for reader but only the very few times that he fucks up so badly that yalls relationship is about to end. Otherwise, no. He'd still play the "ew, I hate women. Anti feminist🥂 bleached rat. Misogynistic and sexist rich dude" but only in public. In private, he's somewhat nicer to you.

Toji Fushiguro? Yes, because there's no shame in being on your knees for the woman you love and convince her to give you another chance and take you back. And it's not because he wants your money, no no, in fact here you go baby- take his card and spoil yourself. He's sorry for pretending he's poor before, but take him back... he's not leaving your doorstep until you do.

From my OCs: Theodore (my mute assassin/spt with 100% anger issues is quite literally obsessed with reader) and also Mahir (my suprr smart lawyer OC who owns his firm and but everything from scratch- he won't grovel... but he'll be panicking on the inside. Rest assured, Mahir doesn't fuck up much because he has too high IQ)

817 notes · View notes

finsterwalds · 29 days

Text

Got a very inspired ask inquiring about the villains in my Better Call Saul french AU so here's Gus aka famous chef Gustavo Faure and his main waiter Léo haha. More info under the cut as always...

So at first I thought about making Gus a fast-food owner like his canon counterpart, but it just doesn't fit really well if you wanna frenchify it all with nuance. We have fast-foods ofc and we do enjoy fried chicken lol, but Los Pollos Hermanos has this very distinct "patriotic" feeling that wouldn't translate as well in France, as fast-foods are american in conception. I thought about making Gus the owner of some cheaper chain like Courtepaille lmao, but it feels too memey and doesn't have the prestige that his character has canonically. Gus assimilates perfectly into american society with his brand, and caters to the people locally, so I thought it would be fair for him to do the same in France. And if you wanna cater to lovers of chic, gastronomy and prestige, what's better than being the chef of some fancy restaurant, right? It felt cliché af and looses the "close to the people" part but it honestly fits his character well, imo...

He would be extremely respected locally but still friendly and approachable due to him crafting some kind of tragic backstory for himself and his restaurant. Basically he would play the "Chilean refugee that climbed to the top of foreign cuisine" card and everyone would buy it. French people love to eat and are fond of mixing their culture's meals with more international food, so yes: I think he would serve a fusion of french/Chilean food!

He'd also be an entrepreneur as famous french chefs often have side businesses like bakeries or published books, which I think respects his canon personality pretty well. Fancy french chefs also like to hang out outside their kitchen to greet their guests and I can totally imagine Gus do that. He'd still be able to conceal his shady side nicely. He's canonically seen to like fine wine, good products, and cooks Paila Marina for Walt, so congrats to Gus for already being french in conception and not making this idea feel like a stretch lol.

I have no idea about his exact role concerning drug traffic in Europe, as I said I'm pretty ignorant about that… But he'd use his business and image to form connections and launder his money. His backstory with Max stays the same in the AU aka Max was his business """"partner""" who died killed by the Salamancas.

I don't think changing his first name was necessary, but his last name sounding american I thought I would just frenchify it a bit lol. I don't know what the name of his restaurant would be, but definitely something short, spanish, and aesthetic/poetic. Maybe a reference to Max to allude to the Hermanos part.

Bonus : I know they don't canonically meet, but in my AU I think Chuck, as a rich lawyer, would eat at Gustavo's often. They'd be acquainted :) And maybe Jérôme aka Jimmy meets him thru his brother and later discovers Gus' shady side, when the events of BrBa start.

#gustavo fring #better call saul #french au #breaking bad #brba #bcs #chuck mcgill #my art #i wonder if he'd participate in french cuisine shows like top chef that'd be funny #hope you like it!#and don't be afraid to add more lol! i have just enough Gus knowledge to craft this but im sure more could be done

274 notes · View notes

ynbabe · 3 months

Text

Fake texts au- pt.16 bffs with the rookies+ revenge is a dish best served cold and glittery

When you woke up, you were tagged in many stories, almost all the drivers had put up stories in your support, chastising the paparazzi that had stormed you and asked inappropriate questions, even a lot of the Barcelona team (the ones you knew) were in your support.

Gavi is messaging you to complement your right hook, and Pedri to ask if you were okay.

The man you had punched was fired from his job and now wasn't allowed within 100 feet of you (courtesy of Max's lawyers), you had also gotten most of your things back, only left without your laptop.

And your 'friends'? Well, you knew just what to do to them. You still had some people you could trust back in the UK so you made them fill up all their dorm rooms with glitter and itching powder, and then blocked them everywhere, any and all communication would now be through Max's lawyers and man were you happy about that.

You were sure the next swing you took would be at them.

The university had allowed you to complete the rest of your course online, only giving the finals on ground, they were quite happy not to be spoken to by the lawyers knowing it was partially their security's fault to allow so many paparazzi to storm you in the first place.

You didn't feel comfortable going to the Las Vegas race and even Abu Dabi, just wanting a break but now? Oh now you were back for revenge, revenge on everyone who thought your life was theirs to judge.

You opened your group chat, you’d spent time FaceTiming and talking to the boys individually but it felt to awkward, to real to be in a group again but fuck that, these boys were your best friends! Lando, Charles and Max were like the older brothers you never had! Even Lorenzo checked up on you almost daily. You weren’t going to give all this up just because of some idiots.

You smiled as normalcy set into the atmosphere again. You called up a few people asking them if they could make and they all could, making you happier.

Things were finally getting better and now you could support your friends without feeling guilty about it.

You had missed the season end but had called Max to congratulate him, but hadn't felt safe enough to go to the party however much he asked but now you were going to be there for them, the people who've always been there for you.

This ones a lil shorter than usual but I needed a filler to move ahead😭

and we're back to the og texts!!! Hope yall like this one! Also I still can't comment idk why.

Taglist: @dark-night-sky-99 @cashtons-wife @i-wish-this-was-me @thehufflepuffavenger1 @eugene-emt-roe @fangirl-dot-com @landosgirlxoxo @aquangxl @sachaa-ff @tyna-19 @assholeinatrenchcoat @allenajade-ite @megatrilss1885 @squirreljoe @jsjcue @s4turnsl0ver @yl90 @elijahslover @trouble-sistar @notizzyj @chilwell-mount @hiireadstuff

228 notes · View notes

two-white-butterflies · 10 months

Text

F1 MASTERLIST

MAX VERSTAPPEN

that funny feeling - max verstappen soft-launches you.

do i wanna know? - max verstappen dates tony stark's daughter.

champion of the world - rumors spread around about you and max breaking up. (sainz!reader)

call it what you want - max verstappen proposes. (ricciardo!reader)

to keep me warm - he ends up dating a superstar. (singer!reader)

the last time - you wanted to be his priority, is that to much to ask? (indie-actress!reader)

invisible strong - (ex-driver!reader) (prema racing team principal!reader)

she's poison - your relationship is exposed and no one believes that max is dating you. (it-girl!reader)

down in florence, alabama - daniel ricciardo's sister gets cheated on by carlos sainz. she heals and dates max.

you won't forget me - max verstappen attends an event - coincidentally his ex girlfriend plays her new song.

monopoly go - he attacks you on monopoly. you find him on facebook. turns out he's hella famous.

blue bannisters - domestic bliss. (short)

FERRARI BOYS

i love you in the morning - charles leclerc and his racer girlfriend.

violets for roses - you break up then get back again. (neurosurgeon!reader)

jasmine wind - toto doesn't approve of your boyfriend. (wolff!reader)

they don't know about us - charles gets online hate. (singer!reader)

foolish one - your relationship gets exposed in the weirdest way. (verstappen!reader)

tolerate it - you break up with charles and date max.

no time to die - after a messy breakup with charles leclerc. you resort to feuding with him online. in where, he hates your guts.

archer - after a series of instagram posts - your ex-friend fabricates screenshots that almost end your career. (singer!reader) (reputation themed)

nothing else matters - the internet hates you

is it over now? - you reminisce about a relationship that wasn't meant to be.

who could ever leave me, darling? - carlos sainz supports you. (singer!reader)

lover boy - carlos gets jealous when someone hits on you. (lawyer!reader)

lucky one - you get attacked by paparazzi's and carlos goes into full protective mode. (actress!reader)

old money - carlos meets your parents, while twitter discovers your identity. (heiress!reader)

the last time - you date carlos after dating max. (actress!reader)

don't need no side chick - you release a song about him.

ibalik ang korona sa espanya - filipina reader who studies in UST.

we would've been - carlos sainz' childhood friend

smart sexy lacy - three years after that horrible breakup with charles leclerc; now you're dating his teammate. what happens when certain deals are levied upon you? will you follow through or go back to what you're used to?

three billion, you're the one - you create a song after breaking up with carlos. (singer!reader)

take her home - he meets a woman on the internet and dates her. (doctor!reader)

sparks - carlos sainz dates a girl that he used to babysit.

RANDOM

drug - toto wolff meets his girlfriend's parents. (horner!reader)

only a genius - toto wolff gets jealous. (actress!reader)

i love that man - toto wolff is dating an ex model.

what was i made for - you are toto wolff's ex wife, and the internet tries to push you back into each other's arms. (model!reader)

killer queen - the formula one grid love your food. (chef!reader)

i can see you - you try to keep the relationship a secret with daniel. (redbull-admin!reader)

mastermind - Ms. L/N turns to Mrs. L/N. In which, you ponder where you've been - and where you are now.

she's random - kimi raikkonen is dating the most unhinged girl in existence. (singer!reader)

beat poetry - kimi raikkonen dates a girl who's basically lana del rey. (singer!reader)

the most beautiful girl - after a decade long hiatus, you return with kimi as your husband.

hectic inside - lando norris finds love in monaco.

best friend - Lando has a crush on you, and everyone knows it.

Set in an au universe. I don't do smut in this, only fluff and blurbs. All scenes and blurbs that are written are not related to their real life - if by some reason, it seems related - that is coincidental. I don't tolerate sexualizing the f1 drivers.

I strictly do social media aus.

#f1 social media au #formula one social media au #max verstappen x reader #charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader

671 notes · View notes

preet-01 · 17 days

Text

Maxiel Political AU

Word Count: 1243

Summary: Max Verstappen only had one goal - to be President. It's all he's wanted since he was just seven years old and all that he's worked towards. But bachelors don't get elected as Presidents, for the most part. Enter Daniel Ricciardo. Daniel's the ideal candidate for the country's most prominent and stressful unpaid job: the President's loving partner, a pretty bauble for the country to fall in love with and look towards. In secret meetings, contracts are signed and a marriage is arranged. Max and Daniel must convince the American people that they are a loving couple and perfect for the White House

<< Prev ||| Next >>

Chapter Two

In the political campaign business, there are certain names that everyone knows regardless of party lines or election levels. Campaign managers, press secretaries, and speechwriters became household names for politicians and politician hopefuls over the years.

One such name is Sebastian Vettel.

The German-American from Philly had entered the political scene fresh out of college and had carved out a space for himself.

From local campaigns to presidential campaigns, he had worked on everything and anything. But his most notable career achievement was approximately four years ago when he was on the Hamilton presidential campaign as the press secretary.

Now, years later and with many successful campaigns under his belt, Sebastian was looking towards another presidential campaign to put his name on.

Max Verstappen, by all accounts that Sebastian had heard, was the next big thing after Lewis Hamilton came onto the scene. And by rumors that he’d heard from his contacts, Max Verstappen would be running for President in 2028.

“You’re barely finished with your first term as a Senator,” Sebastian states when he finally has a meeting with Max Verstappen. The young senator is ambitious, but he does have the results to back it. Though Sebastian would not tell him that just yet, perhaps after they’ve won the presidency.

“The election is still four years away. Plenty of time for any inexperience to become experience,” Max states. He has no doubts in his abilities. The next few years will be enough for him to fix any shortcomings and build an electable resume for himself.

“Indeed, I do not doubt that. Your record so far speaks for itself,” Sebastian says, though he seems to be holding back on something.

“But?” Max inquires.

“But there are things outside of your work record that will influence your presidential campaign,” Sebastian replies.

They leave it at that, despite Max wanting to know more about it. Sebastian says it is a matter for a later time, and that he needs to work out some things in the background before it becomes a pressing issue.

While Max would like to know more about Sebastian’s pressing concerns, he does have committee meetings to go to, and- his train of thought is broken by a text he gets from one of his colleagues.

S.4398 is going to the courts for constitutional violations

Plaintiffs hired Ricciardo from Thompson and Lancaster. Should be an easy win

Max is confused because is he supposed to know who Ricciardo is? There were too many lawyers in the district to know everyone.

____

“Are you wearing a signet ring?” Oscar questions. When they said that he could get an intern, Daniel assumed that he would get a helpful intern eager to learn and do whatever Daniel needed. He had been like that, taking whatever scraps he could get. Instead, he received Oscar. And while Oscar was very polite at first glance, in Daniel’s opinion the twenty-three-year-old was a menace to society – well mainly to Daniel, but he was society. “Oh god, you’re one of those lawyers,” he groans.

“It’s a family ring and my grandfather is in town,” Daniel sighs. He hadn’t worn the family signet ring consistently since they’d found out he was a carrier, but his grandfather was in town and he couldn’t get away with it. “Have you filed the McKinley documents?” he asks, changing the conversation from his family to the newest case that Daniel had been chosen as the head lawyer. His record of winning had made it an easy decision for the bosses and plaintiffs.

“Filed them this morning,” Oscar replies, “Vergne was sniffing around about the case when I was filing.”

“Of course he was. Boss man’s not been very subtle that this case could potentially make me partner,” Daniel sighs. His once close friendship with Jev had suffered with both of them at the same firm and Daniel’s promotion potential being greater than his. He was sad about it, of course, law school would have been hell if it wasn’t for Jev’s friendship. But Daniel wanted to become partner and he’d do whatever was needed to achieve that.

“We’re meeting with McKinley tomorrow morning, I want you there,” Daniel tells Oscar. Oscar had been his intern for months now, but he hadn’t sat in any of the meetings so far.

“What?” And for probably the first time, Daniel is able to surprise Oscar.

“I think you’re ready and it is the next step,” Daniel replies.

The rest of the day goes by without a hitch. Daniel can avoid seeing his grandfather until it’s time to leave the office.

His grandfather is waiting for him in front of the building with a town car. “Daniel,” he greets with a nod and motions to the town car. Daniel sighs as he enters the car. All he wanted was to go home and just be a blob in his bed as he contemplated some innocuous decision that he’d made. But when Joseph Ricciardo shows up at your job with a town car, you get in the town car.

“How was your trip, grandfather?” Daniel inquires.

“It was adequate,” the older man replies. “I spoke with your friend, the campaign manager,” he says.

“Sebastian? Why?” Daniel questions. As far as Daniel knows, there was no reason for his grandfather to speak with Sebastian. Daniel knows that his grandfather had gotten acquainted with Seb when Seb worked on the Hamilton campaign the first time around and he endorsed Lewis Hamilton. But since then, as far as Daniel knew, Sebastian hadn’t worked on a campaign that would require an endorsement from his grandfather.

“He is taking on a new presidential campaign for 28,” Joseph says. “A Senator from New York,” he adds. Daniel knows one of the Senators from New York – John Robbins – they’d gotten coffee a handful of times over the years. He doesn’t think John is a presidential hopeful and he isn’t the type of candidate that Seb likes to work with. No Seb likes younger politicians, not those over the retirement age.

“Robbins?”

“No, the other one. Verstappen,” Joseph answers.

“Verstappen?” Daniel tries to think back to what he knows of the young Senator from New York. Relatively new to the Senate, younger than most of his colleagues, the same party as Lewis, unmarried, and not as established as other 2028 presidential hopefuls. “He’d never win. Not yet anyway,” Daniel says. The voters didn't like unmarried newcomers they barely knew. Politics was a game of strategy and name recognition.

“Hhm, at his present state, he would not win, but should his situation change and he gets more established support, then he does have a strong chance,” Joseph says, handing him a file. “Sebastian compiled a file on him. He will be contacting you soon to discuss a potential, mutually beneficial agreement for both parties involved,” he says.

Daniel knows what a mutually beneficial agreement means. This wouldn’t be the first time that Daniel had gotten such a file from his grandfather. His cousin’s aspirations were more in line with the videogame industry than politics, so a presidency was far-fetched. Therefore, the attention had returned to getting Daniel hitched to some Senator or Governor who could take the Ricciardo name to the highest office in the country.

Usually, he ignored them and found one reason or another to deny them. But this was someone that Seb would be working with and that intrigued him.

He’d meet this Senator Verstappen.

________

I feel iffy about this chapter, but it's a necessary step to get to the first meeting in the next chapter

Updates will be every other week

#political au #maxiel #the beauty of their dreams

62 notes · View notes

theemporium · 4 months

Note

Imagine Little Leclerc gets hurt somehow. Maybe a car accident or maybe something happens with her ex. And Max is freaking the fuck out. He’s so angry at the person who did this to her and so terrified that he’s going to lose her. She ends up being mostly fine… just a concussion or a broken arm or something. But Max is so protective of her and is just waiting on her hand and foot. This whole experience is what opens Charles’ eyes that Max really does love his sister so he stops looking for a divorce lawyer.

-💎

STOP IT😭😭😭I don’t wanna spoil stuff for what I have planned in the fic so we are just gonna talk about this in a total au of an au BUT ANYWAYS

no but little leclerc getting hurt in any way, shape or form would send max over the edge. maybe she was meant to come to the paddock after the drivers but she’s still not there and they are freaking out. and maybe it’s a small accident that causes her to be in hospital and max is her emergency contact because he’s her husband

and imagine this boy telling everyone to fuck off about needing to be in the car as he rushes to the hospital to see her. and charles doesn’t find out until after and when he arrives, he sees max doting over her and feeding her something despite the fact she’s insistent she can feed herself

and it’s just a sweet fucking moment. it’s watching a husband dote and care for his wife who he loves. it’s watching such a domestic moment between them, seeing his sister (who notoriously hates hospitals) feeling at ease beside max who’s making her smile and laugh and roll her eyes and it just eases something in his chest to know that his sister has someone like that🥹

#cece answers #max+little leclerc.thots #💎.anon

111 notes · View notes

tonaken · 2 years

Text

A closer look_ ADRIAN “ALUCARD” ȚEPEȘ

FIA’S NOTE_ I’m back at it again writing longer pieces hehe. This was supposed to be a drabble/thirst, something with MAX 350-500 words, but I got carried away oops. I gave my baby boy what he deserved

CONTENT_ Thinking of Alucard being a bit…pervy <3

WARNINGS_ ALUCARD x fem!reader, no pronouns used but female anatomy mentioned, AU where Alucard is a famous lawyer (random ik) and your neighbour, voyeur!Alucard, dub-con (you are surprised, but you don’t mind him looking at you), male masturbation, Alucard is a sexually repressed man who is a perv for you <3

W_C_ 1.6k words

Alucard is a man of principle, one that acts with honor and grace. Delicate and poised, his aura is calm, refreshing. Even under the pressure of his job and status, he doesn’t crumble, he maintains his integrity.

The only battles he fights are in the simmering tension of the courtroom, the sword and shield of justice working for him. He struggles with a higher purpose in mind, far above mere victory, nothing short of world improvement.

He’s ambitious, there’s no denying it, and you can tell, especially after you, his neighbour, pointed it out while congratulating him for a recent important win under his belt. It was just a simple interaction and a casual meeting: he had parked in front of his building, you were going back to yours, and you recognized him from the news.

It was hard not to: long, golden locks that flow silkily and amber eyes that hold a warm determination. A soft polite smile when interviewed next to his innocent client, a perfect complexion that appeared like alabaster in the flesh. He was dashing.

He was a bit standoffish when he thanked you, fearing you were some kind of journalist, ready to squeeze him some more after the long day he had. But then you introduced yourself - y/n, he remembers - and he calmed down.

You never talked again after that, too immersed in your respective lives, heads low and buried in work, dragging feet on pavement in the late hours of the night. He always kept an eye on you though, a wandering glance that strayed from his lamp-illuminated cluttered desk. Whether willingly or otherwise he’s not sure.

He knows your routines, the time you get out in the morning, and the three-hour window you should be home by. He knows your weekend rituals and some of your hobbies. He does notice the way the plants on your balcony lose a bit of foliage to then flourish as if nothing happened. Pruning does wonders, it seems.

You’re a decent person, and as high his values and dreams are, he finds your simpler life fascinating. It attracts him, just like you do.

But, a man who knows he doesn’t have time for romance shouldn’t be doing this, he thinks. You seem to be only missing that special person in your life, he barely has time to clean his own house. Your lifestyles are incompatible, he counters; you have fixed work hours, he pulls all-nighters after a day in court. You wouldn’t like him, he argues; you have hanging plants all over your apartment, his body runs exclusively on caffeine.

He gives up even before starting, and as rare as that is for him, he renounces the fight. No, not one against some pesky criminal, or some astute lawyer. It happens to be one against himself, and that makes everything that much more difficult.

Legal quibbles are easy to dodge and unravel, but over the meanders of the heart no laws apply, and oddly enough, it’s within himself that he feels the most lost.

He doesn’t recognize himself when he finds himself fighting his own desires, desires that have become low, unlawful, unrighteous. His eyes drift away from the view before him, but his instincts pull him back again. How shameful of him.

Your curtains are missing, courtesy of spring and the cleaning it brings along with it. Your shadow dances across the windowpane, a stark light showing off a perfect outline. The glass has a frosty finish, and he remembers that it’s your bathroom he’s looking into. A perverted curiosity twists in his belly at all the possible outcomes, but when faced with the view of you undressing, his conscience tries to make an effort to peek through his desire-induced haze.

Your arms raise as you take off your top, but Alucard stays put, tuned in with the show. When you slightly bend over to take off what seem like bottoms, he sees in his mind’s eye the rough fabric that slips off your wonderfully soft skin. He imagines the tender, itchy dents the stitching left behind, and for a second, he would love to kiss them better.

Same goes for the bra he now so clearly sees hanging from your fingers. Your hands trace the patches of skin the straps dug in, and as you focus on massaging the discomfort away, he takes in the silhouette of your chest, nipples sticking out. He licks his lips.

You kneel down again and you're holding another piece of fabric, one with an indistinct shape. But then he notices how thin it looks and he understands. It’s your panties. He wonders how they look on you, what colour they are, and how they contrast with your skin tone. The way the elastic would sink into your flesh, if there is any skin that overflows from the rims, if there’s any fat that spills around your thighs, some he could bite into. His tongue runs over his teeth.

And then, his thoughts wander into much more dangerous territory. He recalls how you’ve just come back from work, twilight running away from the night. He ponders, is there a damp spot in your panties? One he can touch, lick, taste?

He envisions you walking around and adjusting them, maybe for riding too high and disturbing you. He feels hot at the mere thought of the gusset getting trapped in between your pussy lips, rubbing on your clit as you cross your legs during the day.

He’d lap at it to cure the irritation, if you’d let him. Or he could just stretch the material back into its rightful place, and just lick his fingers later. And oh, how good you'd smell. He can only rely on his mind’s imagination to come up with something. A heady, musky scent, but unique to you. He inhales deeply.

Unfortunately for him, you step into the bathtub, too low for him to see through the window. He exhales a breath he didn’t know he was holding and a cold sweat takes over him.

Maybe it’s guilt, maybe it’s disgust, maybe it’s disappointment. It’s twisted, dirty in soul and spirit. It shows in the clench of his tight fist, his palm rough and hot against his skin. It displays in the squeeze of his eyes, blown pupils losing focus. It unfolds in the splatter of his seed, webs of it breaking in between his lithe fingers.

The light of your bathroom is long gone by the time he gets into himself. A few stray droplets fall on the carpet beneath him as his hand dangles from his lap, stained, tarnished from his sin. He stares at his paperwork, half page annotated, whilst the rest sits bare, orderly, stern characters swimming in a sea of white. His mind wanders a bit and as his eyes travel along with it, they reach the other side of the street, once again.

Your bedroom windows sit open, but this time, his stomach doesn’t flip in anticipation, nor do his loins burn in need. You walk in lazily, your hands fumbling with light, airy fabric. You’re wearing a robe, one that wraps around your waist and falls softly on your chest. He admires you while you set your new curtains, arms raising and stretching with a gentle grace he’s learnt to appreciate in the last few months.

He tries to remain unmoved, even when your breast spills from its loose confinement, but then there he goes again. His breath hitches and his pulse quickens.

You’re slow in fixing your wardrobe malfunction, seemingly oblivious to how exposed you are. Your hand reaches for the fold hanging off your shoulder, to then put it back in place, fingers taking their time to take in the softness. Your relaxation seems almost intentional, showy, purposeful. It’s a doubt that settles in his mind, one’s which answer he doesn’t have to toil for, though.

He jumps in his chair when your eyes meet his, and, for a split second, he forgets his desk lamp is on. He launches himself in search of the switch, sheets upon sheets of paper now littering the floor, twirling in the air in an array of scribbled white. He quickly gives up, and in a desperate attempt, pulls the lamp’s plug from its socket. It’s a bit comical how he scurries once he’s caught, and you can’t avoid finding him, at the very least, endearing.

He faces you with his back, hand high on his forehead, deep in thinking. He envisions his tainted reputation and his ruined career; “Tepes the molester”, the newspapers speak clear. His mind races as he hides in the darkness, shame, mortification and anger plaguing his thoughts.

A masochistic pull tells him to witness your disappointment and disillusionment, a self destructive need to see the damage he’s done. Sheepish eyes met yours to then widen in confusion.

There is no scowl on your face, nor a cross expression, or any trace of disdain. It’s with a small smile that he's greeted with and he’s left speechless. With a small nod you have him jumping to his feet, running onto your shared street. He has to thank the heavens that there’s nobody around and that he can reach your floor, safe and sound.

You’re quick to reach the door, cracking it open for him to enter. Your robe stays the same, but the look in your eyes is different. It consumes him, yet gives him life. His chest burns and his head spins: lust overtook him again, and there’s a moment where he regrets it all. But then, you speak, and he doesn’t care, not anymore.

“You came for a closer look, didn’t you?”

Reblogs and comments are appreciated!

MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

｡ﾟ･Tags_ @gunnedrobin @mykuronekome @berranurates @wakatshi @nathalunalune @dassmyname @mi1kbunnie @yooniluvbot444 @sailewhoremoon @blueparadis

#adrian tepes #alucard x reader #castlevania netflix #castlevania x reader #castlevania smut #alucard tepes #adrian tepes x reader #Adrian tepes smut #alucard x you #alucard castlevania x reader #castlevania imagine #castlevania x you

2K notes · View notes

paperbackribs · 8 months

Text

The Gift (2) (Witch Steve AU)

previous: Chapter 1 The Sacrifice next: Chapter 3a Witches Are Boys Too Ao3 Link - Chapters will be updated ahead of Tumblr Content: steddie fic, 1.5K words I'm not sure if the tagging was right on the last post, so if you didn't see it make sure to click on Chapter 1 which is a far more expanded post than the original hc drabble.

Chapter 2 The Aftermath

Steve lets his body drop heavily into the uncomfortable plastic chair across from the hospital bed. The smell of bleach stings his nostrils, but at least it’s no longer the coppery smell of blood, he reflects looking on at Eddie’s sleeping but mostly clean form. The rise of his chest reassuringly rhythmic.

Steve refuses to move his nose closer to his own sweat-stained and injured body sure that his skin and hair must be completely infused with the stale stink of Lover’s Lake and the distinct scent of rotten eggs particular to the Upside Down.

However, Steve also doesn’t want to take the time to move away from the vulnerable Eddie while he lies handcuffed to the bed rails in Hawkins Hospital. Full of, at best, indifferent and, at worse, malicious hospital staff and police officers.

Max is getting her broken arm checked in another room with Nancy, Lucas and Erica, but the group had all made it clear to Chief Powell and the doctors that at least two of them would be present in the room with Eddie until he had a lawyer to represent him.

He needs protection, Steve thinks worriedly, his gaze drawn to the crimson hue of the blood bag hanging on the IV stand beside Eddie. Wondering how they are going to convince the police of the impossible; maybe his mother can help.

Sitting in the seat opposite is Dustin, still dressed in his dirty camo clothes and holding an almost death grip on one of the older boy’s pale hands. Once the kid had his leg examined in the Emergency Department—a simple ankle fracture now wrapped in compression wraps—he had settled beside Eddie and hadn’t looked up since. Steve keeps a concerned eye on him, he’s never seen Dustin this subdued.

He’ll perk up, Steve thinks. Once Dustin can see for certain that Eddie is going to survive past the night.

And Eddie will survive, Steve Knows. He had saved Eddie’s life, had feely given his sacrifice with the grim determination to rescue Eddie for himself as well as for the people who love him. For Dustin’s future, and maybe for the rest of the rugrats too; Steve hadn’t looked too deeply past the tapestry once he had understood what he needed to do.

It was an old ritual, one amongst many other lessons he had learnt at his Nana's knee. At turns excited or sombre as he learned about his people and customs; their unfolding story revealing discreet resilience and an abundance of gifts they guardedly conceal. Abilities where even some of them can endure past death to bring back life. Although, his mother had warned him with a wagging finger, that he’d never even think about attempting The Sacrifice if he didn’t want to feel the back of her wooden spoon.

But every piece of knowledge must be passed on, lest any of it be forgotten.

Now though he can feel a hum of connection between him and Eddie. Steve supposes he shouldn’t be surprised, he had tapped into a deep reservoir of power and bound the other boy to life through an essential part of his own body, perhaps even his soul. Steve thinks he could turn that humming into a song though if he just reached out to touch the ringless hands limp against cream sheets.

Even asleep, Eddie still looks drawn and tired. But tired means alive, Steve reminds himself, tracing the dark bags on Eddie's face with his eye. The lines bracketing his mouth seem sunken deeper and, without those charming dimples popping out, Eddie looks older than his twenty years.

The soft beeping of the heart monitor fills the room, creating a rhythmic backdrop to Steve's thoughts. The steady sound like a metronome that lulls him to close his eyes, wisps of sleep taking over his exhausted body and mind.

He hears a song faintly in the background, a sweet melody as he steps left to right, right foot back, left foot back; he’s dancing, Steve realises, looking up into his dear Nana’s face.

She’s much taller than him, despite her short stature, and silhouetted by a soft pearlescent glow. The familiar plumpness of her body guides him into the simple dance steps and a powdery scent envelops him as they move. The lines of her round face crinkle, “That is it, Stevie. See, not so hard, yes?”

He remembers this day, warm sunlight streaming through the solarium and the scent of fresh herbs in the air. The crispness in the air pure as it was familiar. That day, she had taught him the concept of pushing energy through a conduit by having him memorise the story of an elder’s legacy to their student and the value of persistence.

But she hadn’t allowed him to practise directing power through his young body yet; instead, to make it up to him, she had turned up her music and taught him to properly dance for the first time.

“It’s okay,” he pouts, “but it’s boring just walking in a square.”

“All right,” she challenges with a sly grin before letting go of one hand to spin him in place.

“Again!” Steve cries and Nana spins him three times in a row. The verdant pots of plants and flowers blend seamlessly with the warm wood of the countertops, creating a captivating kaleidoscope. To maintain his focus, Steve centers his gaze on Nana's pristine white dress. Breathlessly and a bit dizzy he directs a gap-toothed grin up her, she always knows how to have the best fun.

“See Stevie, you can make your own steps. You do not have to wait for someone to take the lead.”

She turns to the wireless, turning the knob to quieten the strings of the violin and a woman’s soft, romantic voice. Her face is more serious as he looks down at her now, her body bowed slightly in the hunch that would define her later years while the ethereal light around her becomes dim.

However, he gaze is direct, “Listen and learn, Steve.”

“What?” He asks, confused.

She repeats herself silently, the strains of the melody the only sound to pierce the thickening atmosphere.

Steve steps forward, reaching a hand out to her; she’s so far away that it’s no wonder he can’t hear her.

Nana says it again, mouth not moving in the dark except to curve into a mysterious smile.

It’s the sound of Robin slipping back into the room that jostles him out of his dozing state, the door clacking sharply shut behind her. Waking more fully he blearily turns his head, and she directs a half-smile at him, gesturing weakly to a bit of drool on his chin. He knows she’s tired when Robin doesn’t take the opportunity to mock him.

She slumps against the beige wall since the two seats in the small, secluded room are filled. He reaches out a hand at the same moment that she does, squeezing each other's palm in a silent gesture of support.

He drops it when Nancy's voice cuts through the peace of the room, the sharp sound preceding her upright figure as she strides into the room.

“What did you do?” Nancy demands, frowning with suspicion and concern. The fluorescent lights overhead cast a harsh, cold glow that freezes Steve in place as effectively as her glare.

Steve's mouth goes dry, his one hazel eye meeting her intense gaze. He knows that his intervention is beyond reason for someone as practical and grounded as Nancy. He had interfered in the unspeakable, rescuing Eddie from the grim hands of death like no normal human could. Something that only someone like Vecna might do.

A tendril of fear winds through his body as he warily responds, "What I could."

Robin leans around Steve, her hand curling protectively over his chair's backrest before calling out Nancy’s name reprovingly. “Now’s not the time.”

“When then,” Nancy purses her lips. There was a period of his life where Nancy’s impatience had been endearing to Steve. When it had helped fuel his desire to be a better man for her. But Steve is tired and thinks that he can only have this discussion once in his current state.

“When Eddie wakes up. I’ll tell you all then, okay?”

She sighs, clenched hands falling from her hips to her sides. “Okay, Steve, but…”

He waits, anticipating a familiar disapproval. So, he’s surprised when she adds, “You’re okay, right?”

A spreading warmth fills his chest and Steve smiles and nods to her. They’ll never be what they were. And God knows, she’ll never want the future that he does, that was made clear back in the RV. Nancy Wheeler is going places and a camper van full of kids is the last thing she wants. But they’ve all been through too much to throw away their friendship because of a mystical act here or there.

“But,” Dustin interrupts, voice small. “Is there something I should have done? Something more.”

His shoulders are hunched again, one hand on Eddie but the other wrapped around his stomach as if he can hold in his doubts and fears by sheer will. Steve’s heart sinks and he quickens to rise and rest a solid hand on Dustin's shoulder, offering a reassuring clasp. The boy keeps his head bowed down, expression hidden from the room.

Resolved, righteous, brilliant Dustin should never have to doubt his part in having saved their world or Eddie, even if he hadn’t had the power to make a miracle happen like Steve did.

"You did everything earthly possible," Steve replies, earnest in his conviction. "You fought right there with him, Dustin, and you never once gave up on him. I saw that, we all saw that. If you could have, you would have reached through worlds to bring him back too.”

He pauses, thinking of the inevitability he had Seen. “But this was a path that Eddie had to decide on. It’s not on you."

Robin, who had been quietly observing the exchange, steps over to Steve and Dustin. He hears her approach before she reaches out to add the weight of her hand next to Steve’s, offering her support to the silent boy as well.

"You did good, Dustin. Eddie knows how much you love him," her expression is a blend of heartbreak and concern, carrying through to her softly spoken words.

Something finally breaks for Dustin who turns and buries his head into Steve’s torso.

He can’t feel the wetness of Dustin’s tears through the combination of Eddie’s denim vest and Steve’s new combat jacket, but he knows that the shuddering of his young shoulders is the cry of catharsis, letting out the poison of the day, draining his body of the fears and uncertainties and grief of a time filled with terror.

Steve rubs his back in soothing circles, letting Dustin get it all out. Robin leans her head against Steve’s shoulder, taking comfort in his closeness too.

Despite the emotion swirling, the room is still but for the steady beat of Eddie’s heart. Each person gives in to their exhaustion and just takes that moment to breathe. To feel the closing of a chapter and the tentative hope for a brighter future.

That is, until a gaunt Chief Hopper limps into the room, escorted by a freshly shorn El. Then life gets loud again.

If you liked anything, please consider leaving a comment over on Ao3 :-) It would make my day!

Taglist

My taglist is always open so let me know if you want to be added. Likewise, if you want to be removed let me know too. :) If I've missed you, definitely let me know because it's an accident!

@a-gae-af-racoon

@a-lovely-craziness

@aly-reads-alot

@bookworm0690

@cinnamon-mushroomabomination

@everyrandomthing

@finntheehumaneater

@goodolefashionedloverboi

@hallucinatedjosten

@ilikeititspretty

@just-a-tiny-void

@ledleaf

@littlewildflowerkitten

@lostonceandneverfound

@manda-panda-monium

@matchingbatbites

@nburkhardt

@newtstabber

@obliosworld

@oliver-sykes

@platonicbesties4life

@probablyscreamingintothevoid

@rajumat

@scoops-stevie-archive

@spectrum-spectre

@tartarusknight

@whackyrach

#witchsteve #steddie #platonic stobin #stranger things #eddie munson #robin buckley #dustin henderson #paperbackribs writing #steve harrington

133 notes · View notes

dumbass-tumbler-cryptid · 2 months

Note

What if Quaritch tried as a last resort to regain custody and miraculously succeeded when Spider was 15? It's very, very unrealistic, but let's assume that if there was a change of judge or he would be able to bribe someone. So he has legal custody, he can live with his son legally and not cut off from the world. How would everything go then? How would Spider react if he suddenly found out that after so many years of running away he was going to live with his father, what would their relationship be like then?

Oh I’ve got ideas for this so this is going to be a long one. It became a whole au in my head.

So for starters i don’t think Quaritch getting custody back would be unrealistic. If you read the last chapter of cabin Quaritch showed Spider that his court ordered therapist was Max Patel. That would be a huge conflict of interest so with a good lawyer Quaritch could bring that to court and demand a re trial with a new judge.

I’ll change the Cabin timeline a little and say Spider was 14 when he started living with the Sully’s. He’s about to turn 15 when surprise the court gives his father back full custody. Spider tells the judge flat out he doesn’t want to live with him but the judge doesn’t care. The judge views what happened to Quaritch years ago as a miscarriage of justice that he is now correcting.

On moving day Spider runs away. Quaritch calls the cops on him to bring him to his new home. It’s definitely not a great start. His eyes are red and there’s dried tears on his face but Spider glares daggers at him no matter what Quaritch does and never says a word. That’s generally how things go every day for weeks, even on Spider’s birthday when Quaritch tried to throw him a party. Spider just looked at the set up and walked out, hiding in his room to FaceTime with Kiri and Lo’ak.

Quaritch refuses to call Spider by his chosen name and Spider refuses to call him dad. Spider ignores Quaritch if he calls him Miles or Junior. Quaritch does the same when Spider calls him old man. Spider used to call him a fucking bastard ass old man but that got him grounded, so Spider stopped. He didn’t want to be forced to stay in that house any longer then he had to.

Luckily for Spider he didn’t have to change schools in the middle of the year. Neytiri raised hell to get him enrolled in the same private school as the Sully’s and he loves it there. Coincidently it’s the exact school Quaritch would have sent him to if given a choice so he approves. Unfortunately their house is to far out for a bus to pick him up so Spider’s old man has to drop him off and pick him up everyday. Quaritch purposely tries to embarrass him by shouting “bye son I love you!” Spider slams the door and yells “I fucking hate you get out of here!”

Spider’s first week of school after moving in with his dad, he decided to fuck with Quaritch by not telling him about his after school clubs. After ten minutes of waiting Quaritch started to blow up Spider’s phone with calls and texts. Spider had his phone on silent and didn’t even notice. After another ten minutes Quaritch stormed into the school shouting Spider’s given name through the halls for everyone to hear. Spider pops out of the art room looking mortified. “What are you doing.” Quaritch who was terrified answers, “lookin’ for you a ‘course! Y’a couldn’t have told me you were in a club! Y’a didn’t answer your phone. I was worried sick!” The worse part for Spider wasn’t that he got yelled at in front of his classmates. It was that he could tell just how concerned his father had been over him and it makes him feel incredibly guilty. After that Spider always tells Quaritch about his after school activities.

Months go by. Spider slightly warms up to his dad but he’s still super standoffish. He goes over to the Sully’s house every chance he gets. Quaritch hates it. He won’t let Spider spend the night there or even eat dinner with the Sully’s because of how jealous he is. And Spider gets so angry every time Quaritch shows up to collect him, fighting to stay, arguing all the way home, running off to his room slamming the door behind him. It makes Quaritch think that maybe - it’s time they move.

Quaritch asks Spider, “what do y’a think of taken a little road trip this summer? We could get a camper van. go to all the national parks, see some big landmarks..

“I’m good.” Spider doesn’t want to spend his summer locked in a van with his father far away from the Sullys.

“Well too damn bad then ‘cause that’s what we’re doin’.” It’s a huge fight between them for weeks. Spider runs off the day he gets home and sees their shiny new camper van in the driveway. Quaritch hunts him down dragging him back kicking and screaming. Spider refuses to pack as their departure date draws closer. Quaritch does it all for him while he’s at school with Spider coming home to a near empty room, a room so empty it looked like they were moving completely and not just going on vacation. Spider brushes it off as one of his father’s punishments.

Spider is told that they’ll be leaving a few days after school lets out. So he’s completely shocked to see his father waiting for him in their usual pick up spot, driving the camper van. “You told me we were leaving in a few days!” Quaritch just shrugs, “I did. But then I got to thinkin’ what are we waitin’ for! We hit the road now we can be across state lines by dinner.” “But the Sully’s are having a party to celebrate the end of the semester! Grandma Mo’at finally back and I haven’t gotten to see her yet, and I haven’t even said goodbye to my friends!” Quaritch waves him off, “that’s what phones are for. Now get in before I put you in.”

The trip starts off very tense. Spider won’t speak to him at all, but he will have very pointed very loud phone conversations with Kiri and Lo’ak just trash talking Quaritch the entire time. Quaritch turns his dad rock up as high as the stereo will go, making Spider have to shout. When they finally stop for the night they have a quiet agitated dinner outside. Spider is so tired from it all that he’s falling asleep sitting up. Quaritch takes the opportunity to swipe his phone. After Spider goes to bed Quaritch chucks it in the river. Spider notices it’s gone when he wakes up the next morning. Unfortunately for him Quaritch had already been driving for hours. “I can’t find my phone. I think I dropped it outside last night.” “Well what do y’a want me to do about it?” “Turn around!” “Pff, i’m not wastin’ time ‘cause your irresponsible. Now sit down and go eat breakfast or something.”

Spider is pissed but at least he has his laptop he thinks as he starts looking through his stuff. Only to not find it anywhere. “Where’s my laptop.” “How should I know.” “You packed all my shit!” “Yeah well if y’a wanted it so badly y’a should have packed it yourself!” Quaritch in fact left his laptop behind on purpose. Now Spider has no way of contacting the Sully’s.

Spider tries his best to act like he’s completely miserable, but he can’t pretend for long. He hates to admit it but him and his dad have similar ideas of fun, spending days camping and exploring national parks, doing things like zip lining, and exploring caves. They do more touristy things too, like visiting museums (Quaritch loves history museums while Spider prefers art museums) and major landmarks (though they both agree to go early as possible to avoid the crowds at all cost). Early on Spider gets the idea to send the Sully’s postcards so they at least know he’s okay. He has to sneak away from Quaritch to mail them but luckily public mailboxs are pretty easy to come by. It helps him feel better about everything and gradually he actually starts to bond with his dad to the point where it starts to feel like they’re a completely normal father and son.

The summer starts to draw to an end. Spider has been happy with his dad but he’s eager to get home and see the Sully’s. He misses them so much. Plus traveling is exhausting. He can’t wait to sleep in a bed that doesn’t change states ever few days. Spider expects that they’ll turn around soon because they keep going west when they live on the east coast. He’s about to question Quaritch about it when they reach Wyoming. Nothing interesting is in Wyoming so why are they here? They pass by nothing but farmland for hours until finally they pull off the road eventually coming to a small farm. It looks really nice, rustic and inviting. When they stop a bald man, who Quaritch introduces as Spider’s uncle Lyle, greats them at the door along with a boarder collie that races right up to Spider jumping all over him in excitement. Spider instantly loves the pup who he’s told is named Cupcake.

Lyle gives them the grand tour. The farm grows tons of different fruits and vegetables. There a dairy cow grazing in a field, chickens scurrying about in a large fenced in patch of grass, two horses - a father and his son - chilling in the barn, and a barn cat that catches mice. Spider also instantly falls in love with the cat picking him up and cradling him. Spider likes the farm a lot. It’s peaceful. At dinner Spider says, “this is a really nice place Lyle.” “Glad you like.” He says smirking. “By the way cap, I’m gonna head out at five tomorrow morning. I want to get back home in time for my daughter’s first day of school.” Spider gives him a questioning look, “isn’t this your home?” Lyle laughs in his face, “no it’s your home.” He might as well have slapped him. He turns to Quaritch, “what is he talking about?”

Quaritch sighs, “I got a job offer.” “What do you need a job for! I thought you were fucking loaded from all the settlement money the courts gave you!” “I am. But do y’a know how boring it is being a stay at home dad…”. “Oh boohoo get a job as a Walmart greeter like all the other retirees. You fucking planned this all summer - hell before that even, and you never thought to tell me!” “Hell no! I wanted us to enjoy our summer together..” “fuck you! This..this is fucking kidnapping.” “Pff..stop being so dramatic. We just moved that’s all.” “And you fucking lied about it!” Spider runs from the table not able to stand the sight of his father any longer.

Days later when Quaritch finally catches Spider as he’s trying to sneak down to the kitchen, he explains what going to happen. He was offered a job (a lie. He applied for it) as vice principal at Mercer’s Military Academy. It’s a semi-boarding school twenty minutes away. And Spider’s the school’s newest student. He flips his shit, “a fucking military academy! Why can’t I just go to the nearest public school!” “Because it’s an hour and half away! Plus you get free tuition as my son.” “I’m not fucking going.” “Yes you are.” “You can’t make me!” “Yes I can!” “I’m going to get myself expelled on the fist day!” Quaritch laughs, “good luck with that.”

At some point in Spider’s brooding Quaritch tosses his new schools rule book into his room. Spider reads it to get ideas for how to raise hell. Of course he’ll be breaking all the dress code rules which go on at length about the exact why he’s supposed to wear his uniform (neat at all times, no customizations no rips or tears) and the strict guidelines for how he’s supposed to wear his hair (for boys it’s a tapered style of any kind as long it doesn’t touch his ears or the top of his collar). He will definitely be disrespecting every adult, especially his father. He can’t wait to embarrass him so bad he regrets the day he reapplied for custody. Maybe he’ll start a food fight. Maybe he’ll find the school bully and start a real fight. Hell if they deserve it maybe he’ll hit a teacher. Or just his dad. He really wants to punch his dad.

The weekend before the start of school Quaritch takes him into town- which is a whole two hours away- to get his new uniform. Spider is uncooperative as ever, refusing to stand still to get his measurements taken to the point where Quaritch has to hold him in place. After hours of wrestling with his son an exhausted Quaritch pays for the uniforms. The store manager who is equally tired looks at the disgruntled teen and say to Quaritch, “I see why you choose military school.” Spider hears and storms out.

He’s expecting to go home now but instead Quaritch parks the car in front of a barber shop. “I don’t know why your stopping here because I’m sure as hell not getting out.” Quaritch turns to look at him his rage palpable. “Now you listen here. Y’a have some grand idea of gettin’ expelled, but that ain’t gonna happen. Mercer loves a challenge. He loves taking disrespectful, unruly, feral little monsters like you and breaking them to pieces. And the harder you make that, the more fun he’ll have. So I suggest you march in there right now, pick a haircut you can live with,then Sunday night you shine your shoes, iron your uniform and get your tie ready. Or else Monday morning when you walk through those doors lookin’ like your little punk ass self, Mercer will drag you to his office and after that…well choices have consequences.” Spider bristles under the warning but doesn’t break. “I’ll take my chances.” “Fine,” Quaritch says throwing the car in reverse, “I warned y’a. just don’t come crying to me.”

Monday morning Spider does his hair in intricate braids, wears his most ripped frayed pair of jeans, dirtiest sneakers, and a band t-shirt that would definitely get him called a satanist by a pearl clutching old lady. He’s beaming with confidence as he walks into the kitchen. Quaritch eyes him over his newspaper and just shakes his head. Before they leave he puts Spider’s uniform in a plastic bag knowing he’ll need it for later.

You already know what’s coming. Mercer drags Spider into his office on sight. In the office two muscler upperclassman are standing at attention waiting for orders. Mercer tries to verbally intimidate Spider. Spider just cusses up a storm instead. For that he gets grabbed by the upperclassman and bent over Mercer’s desk for some corporal punishment with a wooden paddle. It doesn’t end until he’s a sobbing mess. Then Mercer breaks out the clippers. There’s a guard on them leaving Spider with about an inch of length all around. Mercer doesn’t bother to undo his braids. They all come off in one piece and Mercer seems to take pleaser in waving them in his face taunting him over the “savage” style. Then he’s made to change into his uniform. Spider’s glassy eyed and numb by this point. Mercer and his goons don’t give him the courtesy of turning around, making Spider feel even more vulnerable then he already did. the last piece of his uniform is his tie but he doesn’t know how to knot it. Mercer laughs at him throwing it in his face. “Go find your father. He’ll show you.”

Spider’s in a daze as he stumbles around the halls completely shell shocked. He sees the back of Quaritch as he’s monitoring the halls for anyone out of class. “Da..dad,” Spider calls weakly. Quaritch whips around. It’s the first time Spider has ever called him dad and he is momentarily thrilled before he looks at his son. Quaritch is instantly filled with overwhelming guilt as he takes in his child. “I…I need help…I…I can’t tie my tie.” Spider hold it up like he’s a small child with a broken toy.

Quaritch ushers him into an unused classroom. “What happened,” he asks cupping Spider’s face to make him look up. Spider shakes his head before bursting into tears. Quaritch pulls him into a hug. “How could you do this to me! I was starting to trust you! I actually thought we could be happy! Why did you lie to me! How could you bring me here!” “I’m sorry,” is all Quaritch can say, over and over again. When Spider’s cries finally quiet Quaritch says, “all I ever wanted was to be a family again. I love you more then anything in this whole world. Not a day went by when I didn’t worry about y’a. I couldn’t know if you were safe, if you were healthy, if you were happy. It was torture. I was so relieved to get you back. But y’a wouldn’t even give me a chance. You hated me from the jump. Y’a just ran off to be with the Sully’s every day.” Spider and Quaritch are still hugging but Spider can hear that his dad is crying. “I’m big enough of a man to admit that I was jealous. And it hurt to have you constantly running away from me. But I was selfish to do all this to you.” They stay in their hug for a little while longer until they both feel the weight of time on them. They break apart, and wipe their eyes. Quaritch ties Spider’s tie for him. “We’ll talk more about this tonight okay. For now y’a got to get to class.”

Spider floats through the morning too emotionally drained from everything. At lunch he doesn’t really have an appetite but goes through the motions anyway. It’s when he’s walking the room, looking for a place to sit that he spots a group of five kids sitting in the farthest corner of the room. Spider instantly recognizes the tell tail features of the Na’vi. He races to sit with them happily greeting them with Oel Ngati Kameie.

Hope you enjoyed. I definitely have ideas for a part two so let me know if your interested in that 💙

#spider socorro #miles spider socorro #miles quaritch #colonel miles quaritch #john mercer

36 notes · View notes

f1tyreslightmyfyre · 6 months

Text

Immortal Artistry - Ch. 1

Series Main List

A Vampire AU F1 Fic Featuring Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader, George Russell x Fem!Reader, hints of Max Verstappen x Fem!Reader, Lestappen, Sebchal, and Sainzell (or Russainz?)

Also on AO3

Ch. 1 Warnings: Language; vampire blood violence

2023

“Now, remember,” Xavier Marcos Padros instructed. “Señor Leclerc is a very important client of this firm. His family has been with us for nearly 100 years, and we don’t want to cast a poor impression on the newest generation.”

“No, sir.” You agreed, nodding at your boss.

“That is why I want you to personally oversee the meeting.” The lawyer continued. “There is no other paralegal that I trust more with the closure of his documentation. The paperwork has already been signed by his grandfather, and Señor Leclerc just needs a witnessed signature to complete the transfer of estates and power of attorney to his name.”

“Yes, sir.” You bit back an irritated sigh, listening for the third time as your boss explained the situation. As if you haven’t already spent long hours and late nights preparing the Leclerc account paperwork for the all-important transfer and supporting the grandfather’s witnessed signature process.

“Your work on this family case continues to impress, and I’m confident that you will represent our firm proudly.” He paused to consult his notes. “Now, Señor Leclerc has been arranged for 2100 hrs tomorrow night at his personal request.” He looked back at you unashamedly. “I assume that time won’t be a problem for you.”

Even now, your boss’ haughty words still gnaw at you. Just because the man is a senior partner in one of the world’s most prestigious law firms and you’re fortunate enough to be on his team of paralegals doesn’t mean that you’re not entitled to a life of your own outside of work. All of your clients are wealthy and successful and privileged, and you see no reason why Señor Leclerc should be treated any differently.

But at the end of the day, part of your job is client satisfaction, and your boss won’t hear of you inconveniencing a client, no matter their assets. That’s why you’re still at your desk despite the clock reading 2051 hrs. That’s why you’re still in your pristine business suit and heels while the rest of the building grows dark and empty around you. That’s why the executive conference room table contains the spread of the various official forms for Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc, III to sign upon his arrival.

You exhale another sigh as you casually scroll through the newsfeed on your phone, skimming headlines and associated ledes.

DESPITE ALL ODDS, BRANGELINA BACK TOGETHER

Earlier this year saw the return of Bennifer, and now, fans are stunned at the return of Brangelina. Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt famously wed in 2014, and Jolie filed for divorce from Pitt just two years later. The divorce proceedings have been anything but amiable, and despite the divorce never being legally finalized, it appears that may no longer be needed…

FAMOUS RAPHAEL, DA VINCI PAINTINGS MISSING SINCE WWII TURN UP IN BELGIAN HOME

Among the scores of artwork lost during the chaos and destruction of WWII, two of the most famous pieces have finally resurfaced after more than 75 years. Raphael’s Portrait of a Young Man and da Vinci’s Lady with an Ermine were last seen at the Wawel Castle in 1945, at the home of Hans Frank, who Hitler appointed as governor of the General Government in Poland. The Belgian businessman now in possession of these classic masterpieces has come under investigation as authorities seek to understand how the artwork came into his custody. Historians value the Portrait of a Young Man and the Lady with an Ermine at over €500 million and €300 million, respectively…

STAR WARS FANS SPOT LIGHTSABER-LIKE OBJECT ON MARS SURFACE IN NEW NASA PICTURES

New photos released by NASA show an object on the surface of Mars, looking like a lightsaber from the iconic Star Wars series. Despite its appearance, this mysterious item is actually a titanium tube containing a rock sample that rests on the Red Planet’s surface…

You glance at the time, not willing to risk being late, and set your phone down. Smoothing the drape of your suit jacket and matching skirt, your heels echo off the marble as you walk down the empty corridor. The elevator ding breaks the silence, and you glance out over the Monaco skyline as you descend to the front lobby.

With two minutes to spare, you offer a nod in silent greeting to the night guard on duty at the front desk and come to a stop just inside the tall, glass doors. You keep a keen eye on the street for the approach of a dark sedan or SUV, something that won’t be easy to see in the glow of streetlights. But that’s not the vehicle that pulls up to the front kerb.

Actually, you don’t know what kind of vehicle it is, but the vintage bright cherry red sports car is impossible to miss. It screams elegant taste and wicked speed, and with the convertible top down, it puts the driver on full display. His pale skin stands out immediately against the cut of his black suit and as he exits the car, closing the door behind him, it’s a devastating combination. Or, perhaps, it’s just the expertly tailored lines of his suit or the rakish sweep of his brunette hair or the mercurial glow in his green eyes.

You may spend your life catering to the ultra-wealthy and well-dressed, but this man is truly in a league of his own.

Forcing a swallow and hoping your cheeks aren’t too flushed, you step forward to push open the front door. “Good evening, Mr. Leclerc. Welcome.”

He nods, offering a polite smile as he steps inside. “Thank you. And thank you for taking this meeting so late.” His crisp dress shoes echo off the marble in tandem with your footsteps. “Xavi’s office has always been gracious to accommodate my chaotic schedule.”

You nod gently even though his words give you pause. Nothing about him looks chaotic, whether in the details of his appearance or his calm, collected demeanor. In fact, he looks crisp and polished, as if his day has just started. Pushing the thought aside, you guide him towards the elevator lobby. “Of course, sir.” You say as you press the ascent button. “We’re always happy to work with our clients to assure their needs are met.”

“An admirable sentiment.” The corner of Leclerc’s mouth lifts as he motions you first into the elevator. “I think you are new to Xavi’s team as we have not met before, no?”

Your cheeks blush full red hot as you realize your breach of etiquette. “Oh, goodness – yes, I… apologies for not introducing myself.” You give your name and extend your hand which he politely accepts. Immediately, the firmness of his grip, the softness of his skin, and the chilly temperature against your own strikes you.

His eyes glitter under the elevator’s overhead lights. “Pleased to meet you. You already know this, but I’m Charles Leclerc, III. Though, Charles or ‘Charles’ is just fine.”

Even after letting go of his hand, the phantom chill still lingers on your skin. It’s not a particularly cool night outside, as evidenced by the open cockpit of his car, and you can’t put your finger on why his skin should be so chilly.

He must sense your confusion because a small, sheepish smile comes to his handsome face as he rests a hand in his trousers’ pocket. “I apologize if my cold fingers surprised you… I should have warned you before that I’m cold blooded. I never can seem to get warm.”

“Oh no, please,” you say with a reassuring smile despite the heat rushing to your cheeks and the quickening of your heartbeat as the elevator dings. “You don’t need to apologize – I was just wondering if I could offer you some warm tea.” The words roll off your tongue as you step out of the elevator with him close behind. Thinking on your feet is a key part of your job even if it stresses you out.

“That’s not necessary, though I do appreciate your concern. And you needn’t worry or be so nervous.” He flashes a hint of a teasing, yet reassuring smirk. “I’m not going to give Xavi a poor report about you this evening.”

Your eyes go wide, and you hate that he’s so perceptive. Pushing open the door to the executive conference room, you exhale a gentle sigh. “Thank you, I… I-I’m sorry that you felt the need to say something. I will work to improve in the future.”

“No need.” He shakes his head shortly. “My grandfather says that I unnerve people, so that is something I am also working to improve.”

Is that what it is? Right from his opening comment on chaotic schedules to the chill of his skin, something about him has set you off-balance. You can’t even recall the last time that you forgot to introduce yourself in a business meeting, and yet tonight… tonight is quickly devolving into a night you want to drown with a bottle of wine.

You can’t find an immediate answer, instead turning your attention to the spread of paperwork on the table. “If you’d like to be seated, I have everything arranged for you here.” You watch him move around the table on silent footsteps and fold elegantly into a plush chair as you continue. “I understand that you previously had the opportunity to review the transfer of estates, accounts, and power of attorney paperwork prior to your grandfather signing.”

He nods in confirmation. “Yes, and everything was as expected.”

You nod in return as you motion at the pen resting alongside the first form. “Then, please, feel free to confirm the versions signed by your grandfather align with your understanding prior to signing.”

Stepping back to allow him a modicum of privacy, you fold your hands in front of your jacket and quietly wait. Instead of hideous fluorescent lights, the can ceiling lights emit a soft golden glow that plays handsomely off the tint of his hair and highlights the elegance of his fingers as he traces the words on the paper.

You’ve never met the grandfather – the original Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc – confined as he is in an exclusive care facility, and the paperwork provides few clues about how he amassed his vast fortune. He became a client in 1946 after rising to wealthy prominence and only continued to add to this fortune and collection of estates. His son - Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc, II – passed away after a long battle with illness, leaving only his son – the man now seated at the conference table – as the sole heir. But where are the wives and mothers in all of this family business? Are the Leclercs truly so old-fashioned as to only let the men inherit the estates and conduct family business?

Of course, it’s all no business of yours whatsoever. Europe still harbors its pockets of aristocratic thought, and your job isn’t to judge them for it.

Your train of thought derails as you watch Charles reach into the interior pocket of his suit jacket. He withdraws a sleek, black capped pen with gold accents and deftly unscrews the cap. Glancing up at you, he offers another cute, almost shy smile. “You’ll forgive me if I’m a little old-school,” he says as a gleaming gold fountain tip comes into view. “Ball point pens just aren’t as artistically satisfying.”

His signature isn’t the neatest that you’ve ever seen. In fact, next to his grandfather’s, it’s downright illegible aside from the leading C and L. For someone who shuns ball point pens in favor of artistry, you’re surprised that his signature is so… unremarkable.

Wetting your top lip, you take a breath. “If I may… are you an artist, sir?”

The corner of his mouth lifts – whether with amusement or a more private sentiment, you can’t tell. “I have certainly studied art,” he says as he continues to scan and sign the array of papers. “I suppose one could call me a collector of art, but while I claim paltry skill with a brush, I do favor myself for having an appreciation of beautiful pieces.”

Admittedly, understanding the art of art isn’t something you pride yourself on. You appreciate museums and the history they hold, but you’re not all that familiar with art history or defining characteristics of art over the centuries. Slowly, you nod as he recaps the pen. “It sounds like you would have seen a lot of interesting pieces over the course of your studies.”

His eyes flash with something you can’t place – something predatory, something fond, something satisfying. “Yes,” he says at length as he rises. “I have seen much, with much still left yet to see.”

All at once, you remember the late evening hour. “Of course, sir, please – I don’t mean to keep you any longer than you need.”

“It’s no trouble, and your curiosity is not unwelcome.” A charming smile warms his face. “Actually, it’s flattering that despite this suit you would still consider me to be an artist.”

Your brow furrows as a confused smile slants the corner of your mouth. “Artists come in all shapes and sizes, don’t they? Just because you’re not starving and dressed in rags doesn’t mean that you couldn’t be an artist.”

“Art is what we make of it, non? As are those who create it.” He steps towards you and the door, offering the clumsiest attempt at a wink you’ve ever seen. “And that is for each of us to decide.”

Maybe it’s the sonorous tone of his voice or the light glinting in his green – or grey? Or hazel? – eyes, but you can’t look away. He’s utterly gorgeous and your body heats up in appreciation of this handsome man standing before you. The scent of cedar, citrus and earth reaches your nose – and fuck, how did you not notice his cologne earlier? It entrances you, and the longer you hold his gaze, the more you feel yourself floating…

Until he blinks away and motions towards the door. “After you.”

Shaking from your stupor, another embarrassed flush stains your cheeks as you move towards the elevator. He’s hardly the first supremely attractive man that you’ve interacted with on this job, but none of them have rendered you so stupid before.

“My grandfather says that I unnerve people, so that is something I am also working to improve.”

You brush the memory of his earlier words aside, swallowing your unease as you search for something to say. “Thank you again for coming by this evening.” You finally say, sticking to the safe topic at hand. “I’ll file the paperwork in the morning, and Señor Padros will be in touch if there are any unforeseen complications with the transfer.”

“I have complete faith in Xavi, and you, by extension.” Charles says breezily as you both step into the elevator. “He has served my grandfather well, and no doubt, will continue to serve me well in his stead.”

The odd choice of words strikes you. You don’t consider yourself in the service industry and you’re pretty sure that your boss doesn’t consider himself a servant to the wealthy elite, but maybe it’s just another indicator of how old-school this young man next to you truly is.

“As always, we appreciate your support and business.” You say on professional reflex, despite the distracting scent of Charles’ cologne that you can’t stop noticing. “I will be sure to pass along your reassurance to Señor Padros.”

“Again, there is no need.” He flashes another reassuring smile as the elevator doors open to the main lobby. “I owe Xavi a visit soon to discuss further matters and I will gladly tell him in person.”

His words beg further questions in your mind but you know better than to ask. Whatever relationship he has with your boss – professional or otherwise – is also certainly none of your business.

Your heels click to a stop near the front door and he pauses beside you. With a bow of his head, he holds your gaze as he speaks. “Thank you again for accommodating such a late meeting. It’s been an unexpected pleasure.”

“Thank you, sir. You, too.” You nod in thanks as he turns for the door. “I hope that you have a good rest of your evening.”

His mouth slants with a wicked grin as he pushes out into the dark night. “Of course. I’m just getting started, after all.”

A shiver crawls down your spine as he saunters up to his red car and sinks down into the plush leather seating. The glass building façade muffles the revving engine, but as he shoots off into the night, you’re left with more questions than answers.

Sighing deep, you offer a good night wave to the front desk guard, focused only on getting your bag and going home. The trip back to your desk and down to the parking garage passes in a familiar blur only broken when the elevator doors ding open. Yellow light from the sodium-vapor lamps paint the concrete surroundings in a hideous, monochromatic glow. Even through the glass doors of the elevator lobby, the ubiquitous buzzing of the light fixtures can still be heard. But it’s the frustrated groans of a tall, slender man carrying a box piled high with file folders and trying to pull the doors open that draws your attention.

“Here,” you say in greeting, offering a friendly smile as you step up to assist with the door handle. “It looks like you’ve got your arms full – literally.”

“Oh, thank you.” The man turns brilliant, blinding blue eyes on you and a megawatt smile around his posh British syllables. “You have no idea just how heavy this box is.”

You hold the door open for him as he steps through, maneuvering the box and his messenger bag through the opening. “You’re welcome. Do you have a big case ahead?”

“Yeah,” he says with a nod as the door closes behind you. “Boss needs recommendations by noon tomorrow and I’m so far behind.”

“Ugh,” you groan in commiseration. “I’ve been there, too – it can be so fast-paced sometimes. Who’s your boss?”

“Musconi. He’s not one of the senior partners or anything – not like Padros or Bonnington – but, well, I’ve only been here for a few weeks, so I’m still learning. I’m George Russell, by the way. I’d offer you my hand, but well…” He shrugs and flashes another handsome smile as he hefts the box in his hands.

“No worries, George.” You say before offering your own name. “Welcome to the firm. I hope you continue to settle in alright.”

“Thank you. Everyone’s been really helpful so far.”

You spot your car ahead and turn to offer him a wave. “Well, if I can help with anything, please let me know; otherwise, have a good evening and see you around, George.”

“Lovely to meet you, and thanks again!” He calls out after you, poorly attempting to offer a wave despite his full arms.

As you start the ignition and drive through the garage, you just catch George rounding a concrete pillar to another car.

You don’t see George open the car’s boot, depositing the box and bag before slamming the top down. You don’t see George reach into the backseat, to the dead body slumped across the backseat like someone sleeping. You don’t see George tuck the borrowed employee badge back into the man’s pocket before sliding into the driver’s seat.

And you definitely don’t hear George make a phone call as he drives off. “Yeah… Leclerc just left, and I’ve made contact.”

1940

“Quel est l’ordre, Lieutenant?”

Charles slows his steps, surveying his assembled platoon of French and Monegasque soldiers as he answers in French. “We’re stopping here for the night.”

Beaufort glares over at Charles. “Stopping here, sir?” He glances around at the splintered remains of the French woodlands, the craters in the earth, and the tree shards that litter everywhere. “I’ll roll over and get a splinter in my ass.”

“Better than up your ass!” Moreau bellows as he laughs at his own jab and a few others join in.

Charles can’t say that he disagrees, but he’s careful to keep the amusement from his face. “Either way, I suggest that you use this last bit of daylight to clear a resting place that won’t result in needing medical aid.”

A low murmur of chuckles and assent rises from his men as they start to settle into the destruction. Other platoons flank them on all sides, making similar encampments as they stretch out among the shattered trees and the growing shadows of twilight that rapidly obscure into darkness.

For days now, they’ve been marching through burned and battered countryside, each ruined village indistinguishable from the next. The Panzers prove relentless in their siege, and the Luftwaffe bombs haven’t helped, either. Charles isn’t a high enough rank to possess a map, but his basic knowledge of the sky from training indicates a steady march in a northwesterly direction.

Fall back to Dunkirk. That’s his command from on high.

He yawns as he continues to survey his men. They number so few now, and the missing faces will haunt the rest of his days. As their commanding officer, he knows every last man in his platoon, but now… only a handful remain. A handful that he is personally responsible for leading out of this hell and into the unknown.

If the Allied Forces are well and truly surrounded, what fresh horrors await them when the enemy finally catches up to them in Dunkirk? Will the British prioritize evacuation of their own troops first? What chance does he stand to ever get back home to Monaco?

But wars are lost on pointless thoughts like that. Thinking so far ahead won’t serve him well in the here and now. He just needs to solve this problem, and then solve the next problem. To stay alive and always keep moving forward.

Someday – when Charles has access to endless alcohol and a real bed – he’ll lose himself to those other dark, destructive musings.

“Merde, that’s an ill wind, isn’t it?” Severin’s voice carries low in the night.

“Sure… like ghosts are riding its wings.” Porcher agrees with a grumble as the sound of a hand slapping thick fabric becomes audible. “But no more of that talk. Between the Jerrys, your ass, and these damnable tree roots, I don’t need any extra help from nightmares for not sleeping.”

Allowing his lips to quirk in the cover of darkness, Charles turns from his men, satisfied that they’re settling in well enough for the night. He slows and steadies his footfalls, not wanting to disturb anyone as he makes his way through the dimly lit landscape.

Moments alone are truly rare, but he can steal a few to relieve himself. Counting his steps to gauge his return, the sounds of men snoring, breathing, talking and coughing fade into the breeze.

True peaceful silence at last.

Charles closes his eyes, indulging it for the space of a breath, before going about his business. His eyes roam skyward, catching glimpses of starlight through the wispy clouds. In his mind’s eye, he imagines the brush strokes to try and capture such splendor on canvas. It makes him long to return to his position at the art institute, to nurture creation instead of destruction. With a sigh, he looks back down to the war-torn ground, righting his uniform and webbing. In truth, it’s better not to dally.

A cigarette is his next order of business. It helps him forget about his toothbrush that went missing during a forward advance some weeks back.

In complete silence, strong, vice-like hands grip his shoulders out of the darkness, throwing Charles off his feet. He hits the ground hard, breath forced from his chest and stealing his voice as plain blooms in the back of his skull. His assailant looms over him, a shapeless shadow that pins him to the ground with effortless ease.

Charles kicks feebly as his vision swims, thrashing to dislodge his attacker and break free from the commanding hold. But the impossibly cold weight above him remains immobile, crushing him into the muddy ground. Surely, this must be another man… but a German soldier? Or possibly a confused Allied soldier?

Icy fingers suddenly claw at the collar of Charles’ uniform, wool and buttons shearing easily as horror creeps into Charles’ rising panic. The dark shadow above him bears down, unbothered by Charles’ desperate attempts to scratch and claw along his back. Twin points of searing pain explode in Charles’ neck as sharp, pointed teeth rip through his skin. A strangled cry rasps in Charles’ throat against the agony as the shape of the attacker’s mouth changes, and he seals his lips to Charles’ skin, supping greedily as he pulls suction.

A new sensation erupts – one of ragged, exquisite pleasure – that mixes with the blinding pain to ebb and flow through his entire body. Charles’ mind overloads at the onslaught as his body grows stiller and more pliant. His pitiful protests become sluggish as a creeping fog eats at the very center of his being. His arms fall to the ground, weakened and motionless as the delicious, terrifying pressure continues on his neck.

And then… only darkness.

Series Main List

108 notes · View notes

jtl-fics · 10 months

Note

May I propose: ex boyfriends au. Neil and Andrew go back in time per usual, but they arrive together at the beginning of Neil's recruitment to palmetto. They agree that for now, they should keep it low key and not change much in fear of making the future worse. But, they come to find out that repeating your life exactly the same way is BORING. So, they decide to spice it up a bit. In order to explain their familiarity to the foxes, they create this awfully dramatic backstory full of twists and betrayals, where neil met Andrew while he was with Cass and then Andrew did something to land them both in Juvie, and maybe in juvie they betrayed each other or smthn. All of its fake but the foxes eat it up. Neil and Andrew even incorporate song lyrics that haven't been made into fake arguments that they have for fun (strawberry ice cream in Malibu don't act like we didn't do that shit too) and the foxes fully believe that they're ex boyfriends. But even they can't fully hide the affection they have for each other and when that bleeds through the fixes think they're witnessing the best second chance trope when in reality they're just fucking around

This is such a funny concept.

I am going to add one thing though. In this AU Neil and Andrew made it all the way to their 90s. They went to sleep in their bed old, in love, and happy together. They've both been getting more and more tired lately, they know what's coming. They've seen it with their friends. It's fine, whatever the next step is they're going to go together. If one leaves a little early, well they've had years to get patient while waiting for the other to catch up.

They pass together and their great grand nephew (Kevin's) finds them the next morning (he'd been staying with them to help with a few things. They're holding hands.

They find themselves in the immediate aftermath of Andrew having driven an Exy racquet into Neil's stomach. There's a moment where Andrew truly panics because "OH FUCK, WHAT IF I RUPTURED HIS COLOSTOMY BAG?" and then oh he never really forgot how Neil looked (Neil had been the one that needed the reminders about things) but seeing his husband at 18 with brown hair, wire thin frame, and brown eyes? It throws him off even if he'd know Neil no matter what hair color or eye color.

Kevin comes up and it's been almost 10 years since he'd died but he's there young, no liver spots, and with a 2 on his face again.

They have long been able to talk to one another without a single word. Now that Andrew's face has full range of motion again (partial stroke 3 years before) it's even easier.

"So this is where you ran off to?" Andrew demands.

"Oh, like I had a choice after what you pulled!" Neil shoots back.

Cue two old fucks who are now in the prime of their life bodies and when they lost a lot of their mobility with age the thing they had most loved to do was fuck with their numerous grand nieces and nephews (I am stating right here that every fox who has a kid FULLY views Andreil as uncles so it does not matter if there is a blood relation).

Neil and Andrew rarely need to lie about the shit they've gotten up to, it just hasn't happened yet. They only make it like 2 weeks MAX pretending like they're mad at one another. They've slept in the same bed holding hands for 70 years. They don't do well when they're separated and Andrew is on that god awful medication but this time they know the medical expert who can argue about how BAD this whole shit show is and they know the lawyer to hire. Neil might dip heavily into his stash money but they know more than enough to make that cash back.

Andrew off his meds almost a whole year early via an outpatient treatment.

Still they keep referencing some insane past. "I'll say sorry for getting us thrown in Juvie when YOU apologize for lighting the car on fire in the first place!" he huffs.

"Then I guess we're at a standstill."

These arguments are had while they are absolutely all over one another because a bunch of parts of theirs just WORK again and that's super fun for both of them. They seem like Seth & Allison 2.0 with 8x the history but Neil makes Andrew act like a human and not a monster so they're all very invested in the relationship working out.

This past is also NEVER elaborated on but they never fuck up the fabrication of it either. Andrew because his perfect memory and Neil because even decades later he is a super tier liar.

They're having fun, it's sort of like being back with all their grand nieces and nephews except it's all of their friends (+Seth). The Original Foxes were long used to Neil & Andrew's shit so it was impossible to mess with them like this.

They're going to have a blast.

Edit: Thanks @the-inner-musings-of-a-worm for the fun idea once again!

#Old Flames AU #Lol don't know if I'd do more of this but figured I'd give it a title #Anon I wish I knew who you were so I could shake your digital hand #this was a fun thought #sorry if it's not more of what you wanted though #I just love old farts Andreil fucking with all the young versions of their friends #AFTG #AFTG AU #Andreil

145 notes · View notes