#<- said in milton voice

[munadyke]

love it when my sister acts exasperated when i repsond to her after she lashes out at me for no good reason.....ok! yes! surely i am the problem here!

[avaf00rdxx]

media day

Leah Williamson x Reader

For everyone that rages at it I’m gonna check it aight

—————————-

“whats today” asked Leah’s strong Milton Keynes accent behind a digital film camera. You looked up and smiled at her camera.

“It’s media day!” You softly said, voice still horse, still half asleep and leaning at the kitchen bench with your girlfriend, she was going to put a bunch of captured videos from every six months on a video for her instagram. It was a new goal of hers. The idea made your heart melt.

Some days she would just set it up as you two spent time together. If you were travelling and watching the sunset on the beach with Leah as an example, she would set the camera up behind the two of you cuddling and looking out.

Other times she would film you and your friends being silly in the gym, or videos of you and your dogs.

Later, Leah drove the two of you to the training grounds. Both with hair neat and light makeup on, ready to film some media.

Most of you girls didn’t mind these days, some hated, but you found it so much fun. Leah filmed you as you skipped through the entrance and down the hauls, the blonde chuckling behind you. You turned around and winked for the camera before you ran into Beth and Steph coming up the other way,

“Hello!” Beth said hugging you. You hugged her tightly before doing the same to Steph.

“You’re after Caitlin and Jen. You have to do another game for a video this one is more fun than the last one trust me” Beth said to you two, letting you know what the first media duty was, also reminding you at how bad you were at the last challenge you filmed was.

When you stepped into the area with many cameras and back drops for shoots set up, you girlfriend was immediately peeled away from you to go take some photos in the new training tracksuit set. Claiming they didn’t have enough content for the particular set.

You were sitting on one of the lounges scrolling through instagram as you noticed Jen come up to you with a microphone “y/n!” The tall brunette exclaimed. “Mind if I sit?” She asked pointing to the spot on the couch next to you.

“Of course Jenny” you smiled moving your legs that were laying there, before putting them back on top of Jen’s lap so they could lay there once again.

“Oh ok” Jen and you giggled as you relaxed back into the couch with you legs resting over her lap. “Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”

“Hit me” you said smiling at the camera

“I went over to grab a cookie from the snack table. And Caitlin foord had informed me that you had eaten the entire bowl of cookies? Can you confirm or deny?” She asked you

“What!” You laughed. “Caitlin not fair!” You yelled across the indoor area as the girl poked her tongue at you. “Deny. She ate most of them I had two!” You said looking into the camera, getting louder at the last part so the brunette across the room could hear.

“Rumour confirmed. Now who do you think looks the best in the new home kit?” Jen said smirking, motioning towards her chest as she was wearing the said kit.

“I think it really suits me im not gonna lie…..” you grinned “But best might have to be Jen Beattie” you shrugged, you high-fived her before you noticed a blonde with her arms folded glaring at both of you.

“I didn’t see you come through the door” you smiled at Leah, patting the spot next to you so she could sit.

“Jen best dressed in home kit?” She questioned towards the camera.

“Yes-“ Jen said proudly

“No! It’s a tie!” You grinned

“Mm sure” Leah said

“Ok one final question and Leah you can answer this too. Any pre game traditions you have together? Like as a couple?”

“Well Leah Can’t cook so I end up cooking pasta. I feel like when you ask a footballer their night-before meal they all say this. But it’s seriously you know, good carbs for the following game day” you said into your microphone to Jen and the Camera

“I can cook some things” Leah said

“Let’s be real here Leah, I don’t even live with you and I know this” Jen laughed, making Leah pout cutely at the camera

“You make great weetabix darling” you said rubbing her shoulder in sympathy causing her to upside-down smile at you.

“And there you have it let’s find our next guest” Jen’s voice trailed off, leaving the couch as the camera man followed her and the mic.

Leah pulled you into her embrace on the couch, you now completely collapsed on top of her. “I’m already tired” your girlfriend huffed below you.

“let’s get you a coffee I was about to get one” you said getting up to head towards the snack table containing a coffee machine just to your luck.

“Yuck no thanks” said the non-coffee drinker.

———————

“Hi im Y/n y/l/n”

“And I am Leah Williamson”

“This is Arsenal’s Name Three game, where we are going to be asked to name three of a category or something like that in under 5 seconds” you shrugged smiling wide

“Here we go” Leah said rubbing her palms together

“Name Three dog breeds. Go” you asked with cardboard game cards in your hand

“Ok um Husky, Border Collie and erm Labrador” she smiled proud of getting it right in 4 seconds.

“Nice work” you smiled, adjusting your position on your seat as Leah read her card.

“Name three Arsenal men’s players from the 2021/2022 season!”

“Um Martinelli, Tomiyaso, Saka!” You clapped after quickly finishing “did I have to say full names?” You asked the people behind the camera who shook their heads.

“Dang that was quick good job sweets. Okay my turn now I’m gonna beat your time” Leah said.

“Oh god good luck. Three countries that speak Spanish off you go” you read as her 5 seconds started

“Shit um Spain, El Salvador and”

“1..” you counted down

“Mexico” she smiled proudly finishing her answer in less than a second. “That was an easier question than you think”

“I’m shit at Geography” you shrugged to the camera

“Ok y/l/n your second is name three shades of red” she smiled reading, knowing you most likely wouldn’t get this.

“Is red one-“ you questioned

“Time starts go!”

“I don’t know any! Um plain red and… oh pink is one right” you exclaimed

“Bowbow! Times up. And I don’t think Plain red counts, nor pink” she laughed

“Surely” you mumbled crossing you arms. The camera started recording as you were given the next card. “For your final question Leah, three fake blondes on the Arsenal team” you giggled reading out your card.

“Oh my god that’s funny um shit Beth, Laura and also oh wait no she’s not…and Chloe!”

“Time! You didn’t get the last one in time!” You argued

“I so did!” She exclaimed

“Nope”

“I did but whatever then you just cannot handle losing” she said, receiving a glare from you. “Ok for the final question of today for lucky y/n here. Name three country songs starting with L”

“What! Not fair”

“Ready?”

“Absolutely not!

“Okay three two one start!” She exclaimed, studying your face as your face scrunched up in thought.

“Love you anyway Luke combs, lovin on you and like a wrecking ball by Eric Church” you yelled jumping up as you got them “yes! Got em!” You yelled excitedly you and Leah both laughed as you settled behind Leah’s back arms around her neck in a hug, with Leah bringing her hands up to your arms as you recorded the outro.

“I think we have a clear winner-“

“It was a tie missy” you said slightly whacking her head. “Anyways tune into our sold out game this weekend against Manchester United at Arsenal.com and Sky News sports. Check out our socials for further details” you smiled.

“See you next time” Leah giggled with her thumbs up, slightly cringing at it.

“Thanks ladies was brilliant” said one of the girls behind the camera, letting you now go back to where the rest of the girls were.

——————

Media days isn’t just snapping a few cute pics and playing a fun game. It was a little bit more effort and just loads of hours and hours of sitting and waiting to be called up to take pictures or film something for social media.

“What does selling out the emirates mean to me? Um it just feels surreal. As a child I remember coming to the emirates to watch Chelsea and Arsenal play, as a child when your in places like that with just tens of thousands of people it doesn’t feel real and it’s just so overwhelming. All of those people there to watch one game of silly football I would think” you laughed “but just wow 60,000 what a number I guess and it will never hit me that me and the girls have achieved this, if you told me this was happening 12 months ago I would have probably laughed. Especially telling little me sitting there at a sold out emirates in 2005, that I would be on that pitch with the same scenario just blows my mind” you smiled as you put down the phone you were asked to share your thoughts on the sold out game on.

“Sorry that was a bit of a ramble there” you said shyly, handing the phone back to the media manager.

“Absolutely not. That was so good thanks for doing that” she smiled at you before you went back to where you could see Lia, Leah and Kim all sitting down on the fake grass inside.

“Hello kimmy” you said resting your chin on her shoulder, before your eyes fell on a fast asleep Leah laying on Lia’s leg, phone in hand but dead asleep”

“Oh hello” Kim laughed hugging you back “this one was a bit tired” she pointed to your girlfriend

“Yeah she didn’t get the best sleep” you sighed going to sit next to Leah passed out on the floor.

Lia and Kim both scrunching up their faces in disgust at your response. “ no no not like that freaks. She was up playing piano again” you defended, groaning at the last part.

“Poor you. When you were away and she asked me to come over while she practised, she was up for hours” Lia laughed.

“Every night when I’ll tell her I’m going to bed, usually that implies she will too and she hops up and follows me. But lately she just says ‘night!’ and stays up playing for hours” you said, Kim smiling in amusement at the sleepy girl, before a strong Irish voice was heard.

“Here’s the sleepy girl!” Katie shoved the camera at Leah’s sleepy state passed out next to you. “And the wag!” she said now putting the camera in your face, you following your eyes at her continuous joke.

You were injured for one of your England games and were in the stands without being on the pitch with the English girls, an article released from the game called you ‘Leah’s Wag’, Katie found it hilarious and now called you ‘wag’ a lot.

“Is that Leah’s camera” you smiled up at the brunette, camera still in your face.

“You know it chick” Katie said “give me an update on what’s happening!” She said motioning for you to talk to her ‘vlog’

“Umm im ready to be told i can go home” you said sweetly, genuinely waiting to get told by the staff all was good and we could leave.

“Same here” Katie grinned wide panning the camera to her face. “Ooh!” Katie said skipping off with the camera after she found Jen making a TikTok with Beth.

Now you and Leah were left together laying on the ground, her still asleep, you thought, as her arms reached out in a stretch. “Hi baby” you said sweetly kissing her check, then her nose, then her lips.

“How long did I sleep for” she asked looking around slightly.

“No idea. Not too long I don’t think”

“Sorry about that” she said snuggling into your legs

“Don’t apologise. We should be able to leave soon. Actually I’m just gonna ask. I can’t wait any longer seriously” you said before getting up to find one of the media girls Ryhanna who was sitting down editing something on a computer. She said it was supposed to finish at 2, but we should be find to leave now.

“I’ll check hang on” she said getting up to ask someone

“Thank you” you said gratefully before walking over to the small drinking tap, filling up your water bottle which was next to it so you could give some to Leah.

“Yep you and Leah are all good to go!” She yelled from a bit away “see you guys tomorrow”

“Thank you so much. See you then!” You said, now happily skipping back. “We can go now!” You hummed, reaching your hands out to Leah so you can pull her up.

She smiled contently and happily letting you pull her up from the ground. You hugged some of the girls goodbye, who were now curious and jealous as to when they could leave.

“After you” Leah said holding the door open which led to the parking lot out the front. You gave her a sweet look and reached for her hand as you walked to the car together.

“Let’s get some sleep” she said leaning on your shoulder as you walked.

“It’s barely five” you laughed at your tired girlfriend. “It’s all that piano practise you stay up to do”

“Yeah yeah” she said walking to the drivers seat

“No missy your gonna fall asleep on the road let me drive. You took her hand in yours, pulling her away from the handle and also grabbing the keys from her hand.

“Off you go my passenger princess” you tapped her butt to shoo her away to the passenger seat

“No you’re my passenger princess” she said with warm cheeks when you both buckled your seat belts. Your reached for her hand once you made it onto the main road, interlocking fingers as you gently kissed hers.

“Smile your on camera” she exclaimed as you slowly turned your head to her and the camera, your girlfriend filming the entire sweet moment, lightly pulling your tongue out at it before facing back at the road in front of you, pecking all of her fingers again as she giggled like a small girl next to you.

[idkwhatimdoinghere1655]

Baby Fever - Max Verstappen

<word count - 10,231>

You walked through the Red Bull garage, keeping your head down as to not make eye contact with anyone. It was your first day back after taking the past week off due to not being able to look at anything or anyone Red Bull related recently. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the one person responsible for your pain and heartache. Funnily enough, he was also the person responsible for your impending arrival in around seven and a half months time.

—

You didn't know how to feel, the verdict for the rest of your life sitting on the bathroom counter. Scott was sat downstairs of your shared home in Milton Keynes, completely unaware of what was unfolding upstairs. You had had your suspicions for a few weeks, but Scott had made a firm point that he never wanted children and he never would.

As the seconds agonisingly ticked by, you wondered what you were going to do if it turned out to be positive. You'd have to tell Scott before you both left for the next race, and you'd have to tell Christian so you could plan maternity leave. You might even have to stop travelling to races. If it was negative, you would forget about it and move on.

Checking your watch, you saw that the time was up and it was time to reveal your fate. You turned the test over, clapping your hand over your mouth to stop yourself from screaming. The two lines were clear as day, and there was no denying it, as well as the three others you took afterwards.

You had to convince yourself that it would all be alright and Scott would be completely fine with this. Your mind even played the part of the story where he was happy, no, overjoyed with this. But, before the tale could end, the footage skipped back to the realistic outcome.

Staring at yourself in the mirror, you took a few deep breaths and reassured yourself that, no matter what happened, everything would be fine. You trudged downstairs, the tests in your hands behind your back. "Scott?" You called out, even though you knew he was in the kitchen typing away at his laptop. "In here, babe," he responded, not taking his eyes off the screen as you walked in.

"Are you free to talk for a second?" You asked, sitting down opposite him at the table.

"I will be in just a minute," he said, finishing typing out what you assumed was an email and clicked the mouse. "OK, I am all yours," Scott said, resting his head on his hands.

"I-" you started, but you couldn't find the words to say it. Instead, you placed all of the tests down in front of him and tried to read his facial expression. His eyebrows knitted together in confusion. He looked up at you as he held one in his hands. "Are you serious?"

You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out. You nodded slowly, aggressively picking at the sides of your fingers it of the pure fear and nervousness. "What are you going to do with it?" he asked, his tone cold as it stabbed your heart.

They way he called your child an it cut deeper than anything you had ever felt before. "I don't know," you whispered, looking down at the table as tears slipped down your cheeks. He should be comforting you, telling you it was alright and he wasn't mad.

"I know what I want you to do with it," he bit, throwing the tests at you from across the table. It was at that point you knew exactly what you were going to do. Your maternal instincts kicked in, and you realised the dream you had never had.

You wanted to keep your child, whether Scott was going to be there or not. "I want to keep it, Scott," you said, looking at him through glassy, reddened eyes. "I want to watch our child grow and bring them up to be the best person they can be," you told him.

"Well you're on your own then," he said, standing from the table and swiping his laptop from the surface. After all of these years of being together, he decided he was done when you needed him most. "So we're done," you said, your voice unwavering.

"If you're keeping it, then yes," he spoke, before ascending the stairs. Either way, you knew you were done with him. If you did decide to be rid of the baby, you didn't want to be with someone who would treat you like that. If anything, it was for the better that you saw Scott's true colours.

That very same night, you packed your bags and left for a friends house.

—

Seeing Scott on your first day back was inevitable, but you still wished you could have avoided him completely. You caught him looking at you, but that took your attention away from the other pair of eyes that were lingering.

Max had liked you as soon as Christian introduced you to the team and as part of the media team. You were stunning, and he couldn't take his eyes off you. You were easy to talk to and media duties quickly became the best part of his week.

There was, of course, the factor of Scott that was stopping him from asking you out. People had encouraged him, but he didn't want to be a homewrecker. Sure, he hadn't heard great things about Scott and he wasn't a fan of the guy when they had spoken, but you seemed to love him and he didn't want to get in the way of that.

He thought you looked different after your week off. You weren't as well kempt as you normally were, and your face was pale and sunken. It was the weekend of Australia, and you were wearing a thick jacket that just wasn't needed.

Thankfully, the media office was empty as you sat and fought back the tears. You needed to stay to provide for your impending new arrival, but it was going to be one of the hardest things you would ever do. Seeing that piece of shit everyday was going to hurt.

People had been casting dubious glances at you as you walked around, and you heard the whispers of why Scott had been at work and you hadn't. You heard that people had asked, and he had just said you were sick. He didn't have the guts to tell them that you were pregnant and he broke it off when he found out.

You heard footsteps approaching the door and wiped the stray tears away as you tried to make yourself look busy. "Hey, Christian said he wants to talk to you," Checo's press officer popped her head around the door. "OK, thank you," you smiled, giving yourself a minute to compose yourself before going to see your boss.

This wasn't a surprise since you had emailed earlier in the morning asking to speak to him. You strolled through the Red Bull building, earning more quick glances as you smiled at them. You didn't want to let them believe that you were bothered by them in any capacity.

Taking one final deep breath, you knocked on the door of Christian's office and heard a muffled 'Come in' from the inside. You opened the door and saw Christian sat at his desk. You knew the meeting would have to be short - he was a very busy man.

"Take a seat," he said, leaning back in his chair and pointing towards the two black, leather chairs in front of the desk. You sat down, crossing your legs. "So, what was it you wanted to talk about?"

"In a few months, I'm going to have to take some time off," you started, Christian nodding along as you thought he was getting the hints. "Scott too then, I'm guessing?"

"No, no. Just me," you said, averting your eyes to your hands. Deep down, you knew he would ask and it was only natural to - it takes two to tango. But you didn't think it would be this awkward to tell people.

Christian raised an eyebrow, "You're pregnant, right?" he confirmed.

"Yes, but Scott and I aren't together anymore," you told him, hearing another knock at the door. You stood as you figured the person on the other side also had an important reason to talk to Christian, and approached the door. "Congratulations," he said, and you simply smiled at him.

Opening the door, you saw the Dutchman on the other side. "Hey, Max," you quietly said, gently pushing past him and down the corridor. "Hey, Y/N," he replied, and he couldn't help but worry about you immediately.

He noticed the tears brimming in your eyes and you weren't your usual, happy self. "Is she alright?" Max asked, entering the room and sitting in the same place that you had.

"She's going through some things at the moment," Christian said, not wanting to tell everything about your problems to Max. "I heard some rumours about her and Scott, but that's the most I know,"

"They're not together anymore, but she's pregnant," Christian said, letting Max connect the dots. Christian carried on with whatever the meeting was supposed to be about, but he couldn't concentrate. It was obvious that Scott had left her, but whether it was because of the pregnancy or not was still ambiguous.

—

As the weeks had gone by, it had become increasingly easier to do work, and it had given you something to focus on instead of Scott. Christian had allowed you to work less and you were going abroad less. But, you had insisted on coming to Monaco.

You loved the lavishness of it all and the sparkle of the marina at night was magical and mesmerizing.

Max had been looking out for you more, but you thought he was just being nice since the news spread about the soon-to-be mini Red Bull team member. He was always asking if you wanted a drink or a snack, or offering his drivers room if you needed a quiet moment around the track.

You had woken up on the morning of the Thursday in Monaco with horrendous morning sickness. You had thrown up a few times, but got ready for work and headed to the track as usual. You and the team had planned for Max and Checo to do some challenges at the marina for YouTube.

The first half had gone great, and the two of them were having a blast. It was hilarious to watch and you knew that fans would love it. For about half an hour, you were having a break and you took the time to sit in the corner of the dock, trying to bypass the sickness you felt.

You ran your hands over the small bump that you had as a way to soothe yourself. "Hey, you alright?" you felt a hand on your shoulder as Max sat down.

He had been watching you more than he usually would over the past couple weeks. Even if you didn't need taking care of, he still wanted to make sure you were alright since Scott wasn't around to do it. From afar, he noticed that you looked very uncomfortable.

You were sat completely motionless, staring at the water and rubbing your stomach lightly. "Yeah, just feeling a but nauseous," you smiled, looking at him. His smile had a magical quality that could put you at ease. You were glad to be spending more time with Max recently, and you were slowly getting to know each other.

"Here, this might help," he said, handing you a bottle of water that he had gotten for you before he came. "I noticed you didn't drink anything since the start of the shoot, and you need to stay hydrated," he told you. You were glad you had Max to think of these things, since you didn't have Scott to.

"So you've been watching me?" you teased, playfully nudging him as his cheeks burned an intense red. "I'm just making sure you're alright, not that you can't do that yourself, but-" he rambled, and you couldn't help but giggle at him.

His rambles were cut short by a sharp intake of breath from you as another wave of nausea rippled over you. "You can go back to your hotel if you want, I'm sure these guys will be fine without you," he said, the worry for you returning.

He hated seeing you in pain, and he wished he could just take you in his arms and hold you until it went away. But, he didn't think you could ever feel the same. You didn't think he would want to be with you if you had another man's baby on the way.

"I'll be fine. Besides, my hotel is on the other side of the city and I don't feel like paying for a taxi," you explained, trying to ignore the sickness.

Max had three options. He could: pay for your taxi, offer to take you to his apartment that was just around the corner, or he could leave it and let you stay. He decided to shoot his shot and ask if you wanted to go to his to relax.

"I could take you to my apartment. It's just around the corner and you can have a lie down," he explained, and you couldn't ignore the butterflies that came to life in your stomach when he offered. "Thank you, Max, really, but I can't just leave work," you said.

"I'll sort it out," he said, wanting nothing more than for you to let him help you, to let him take care of you. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, of course," he said, standing and offering his hand out for you to take. You took it, and a small part of your heart screamed at you to keep hold. But, your head got there first and forced your fingers to unclasp from his.

"Are you sure because-" you started.

"Y/N, don't get stressed, it's not good for the baby. You relax and I will take care of it," he told you, turning away out of embarrassment. Had he been reading up on pregnancy and babies? Yes. But, he didn't want to make it obvious. He had subconsciously made it his duty to keep you calm and relaxed at all times.

He led you through Monte Carlo, taking you down side streets and shortcuts to get you there quicker. The pair of you entered a lavish looking apartment complex and the doorman greeted you with a nod. He belled the elevator and you headed up to the top and to the penthouses.

The doors slid open with a ding and you were met with a very modern set up. Your favourite part was instantly the large, floor to ceiling windows that provided the most incredible view of Monaco. You could see people beneath you, as well as the marina with all of the yachts lined up. For a moment, you wondered which one was Max's.

"My room is through here," he said, walking towards one of the doors and opening it to reveal a grand master bedroom, "There is some comfier stuff in the wardrobe, so grab whatever you want, and the bathroom is through there if you want a shower," he explained, giving you a mini tour of the room.

"And you can eat or drink whatever you want, make yourself at home. If you need anything, call me and I'll be back as soon as I can," he smiled, leaving you to get comfy and the elevator dinged to tell you he was gone. You wandered through to the master bathroom and, for a bathroom, it was breathtaking.

The shower was huge and the bath in the corner of the room was massive. You couldn't resist the shower, so you set it running and found a clean towel in the cabinet. After stripping off your clothes, you stepped into the stream of hot water.

The water was so soothing and eased the nausea a great deal. You squirted some of the shampoo that was on the side into the palm of your hand and worked it into your scalp. The suds slid down your back as you washed it out of your hair, before repeating the process with the conditioner.

Once you were out of the shower, you towel dried your hair and slipped your shorts back up your legs. You didn't feel like putting your Red Bull polo back on as it was too small now that you had a baby bump, and it wasn't the most comfortable.

Trudging back out to the bedroom, you opened the wardrobe and picked out one of Max's hoodies. You had seen him in it a few times, and it was one of your favourites. You pulled it on and it was soft against your skin.

It had been a long day, so you led down on the king sized bed. It felt weird that you were lying on Max's bed, so you were considering moving to one of the spare bedrooms or the couch. Before you could make the decision, you drifted off to sleep, the scent of Max filling your nostrils.

—

Max ran back to the marina since he was a few minutes late, but the crew thankfully weren't bothered. They asked about where you had gone, but he just said you weren't feeling too great so he took you back to the hotel.

"You have it bad, mate," Checo teased, appearing next to Max as he arrived.

"Pfft, no I don't," Max tried to play it off, but the Mexican knew his friend too well. "I was just being friendly," he tried to explain away why he had taken her back.

"You didn't take her back to the hotel, Max. You took her to your apartment," Checo said, and Max looked flabbergasted. "Her hotel is too far away, and your apartment isn't. It's the only logical place," Checo further explained. This guy was clever.

"Yes, I did. She's pregnant, she deserves a nice place to rest," Max said, unable to make eye contact with his fellow driver. "Normally, I'd believe you, but it doesn't help that you told us how you feel,"

"How did you know?" Max asked.

"Well, for one. You look at her like she's the only person in the world and you have taken it upon yourself to look after her, which I admire by the way. And, you told us last week," Checo told him with a smirk. He didn't tell them, did he? He didn't tell anyone, apart from when-.

Shit.

"The party," Max concluded. When he was drunk, he overshared a lot. And, he wouldn't be surprised if someone had prompted the answer. As if he had read Max's mind, Checo said, "Charles asked you if you liked Y/N, and you went on this whole spiel about how much you liked her and you wanted to ask her out,".

Max looked mortified, and Checo was getting a huge kick out of his discomfort. Before they could continue the conversation, they were called over to the dock to carry on filming.

—

Finally, the shoot had finished and Max had found it a lot duller without you there. He zoomed home, but was surprised to return to the apartment and find it completely silent. You were still there, since your shoes were still on the shoe rack.

"Y/N?" he quietly called out, but was met with no answer. You weren't in the kitchen, and you weren't in the living room either. He saw that the bedroom door was slightly ajar, even though he had left the door closed when he left you there.

He entered, and the sight made his heart stop. You were led there, tangled in the sea of crisp white sheets and snuggled up in one of his favourite hoodies. Your hair was almost haloed around your head. Even if he felt creepy, he allowed himself to watch you for a moment.

You looked completely peaceful and there was nothing that could harm you when you were comfortably cuddled up in his bed. He didn't have the heart to wake you up, because you needed the sleep and he wanted to leave you be.

It took every ounce of his being to resist the urge to shuffle into bed next to you and wrap his arms around you while whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

Instead, he quietly took some different clothes out of the wardrobe and went to start on dinner. He wasn't a very good cook, but he had the stuff for pasta and it was one of the few things that he knew how to make.

He was working as quietly as possible so he didn't wake you up, but his mind kept wandering back to the image of you asleep in the other room.

After around half an hour, dinner was ready and Max would have to wake you up. He tiptoed over to his room and found you curled up in a tiny ball, arms wrapped around your torso as if you were protecting the child growing inside you.

Gently, yet hesitantly, he tucked some stray strands of hair behind your ear, before moving his hand to your arm to gently shake you. "Y/N, liefje, dinners ready," the nickname slipped out, but you were still asleep.

After being shaken for a bit, your eyelids fluttered open to see Max kneeling down next to you. He was wearing sweats now, and his hair was tousled perfectly. "I made dinner and I hope you like pasta," he smiled, his hand lingering on your arm.

"Yeah, I do. I hope it's alright I slept in here, I sat down and I was out like a light," you said, sitting up. "Yeah, it's not a problem. It is the comfiest bed in this place," he laughed, helping you up out of the sunken mattress.

As you plated your food, he couldn't take his eyes off of you. His hoodie hung off your frame perfectly, and you could still see the outline of your bump. Your hair was still slightly wet as it cascaded down your back.

The pair of you sat down on the couch and you tucked yourself into the corner seat. "This is really good," you said, taking the first bite of pasta.

"Thanks, it's one of the only things I can cook properly," he joked.

"How was the shoot?"

"It was alright, the others aren't as fun as you are, though," Max complimented. It was true, he was a lot more bored without you prompting them to do things. "I'm sure you were fine," you told him.

The pair of you finished your meals and you took the plates to the sink. When Max heard the sound of the tap running, he turned his head to see you washing the dishes. "You can leave that, I'll do it later," he called, wanting you to come sit back down.

"It's alright, it's the least I can do," you said back, already finished on the first dish anyway. You finished scrubbing the dishes and let them sit on the rack to dry. Padding back over to the corner seat of the couch, you plopped down and shuffled about a bit.

"So, how's the baby and everything?" he asked apprehensively. He really wanted to know more, but he didn't know if you trusted him enough with that kind of information. "They're good. I have my next scan next week, and I'm getting some pictures," you beamed.

He loved how enthusiastic you were when talking about your child and he could tell how much you loved them already. It just made his feelings for you develop even more and it made him admire you and care for you so much more.

He had always wanted kids of his own and he was great with them, but he had never find the right person. Sitting there then, he couldn't help but think that that person could have been you.

"Can I see them when you have them?" he asked, struggling to maintain eye contact in case she said no. "Of course, I'll show you when I next see you," you said.

"Are you sure you're supposed to be flying?"

"Yeah, the doctor said I should be alright for now," you explained, glad that he was interested. Nobody had ever shown this much interest towards you and the baby apart from your friends back home, so it was nice for you to talk about it.

As you sat there, something was creeping up on you and it wasn't being quiet. Your heart was thumping out of your chest whenever you looked at him and it felt like sparks were forming whenever he touched you. Sitting here with Max was something you could get used to.

For a few more hours, you and Max talked a flowing conversation and the room was filled with laughter for the whole night. You checked your watch and saw how late it had gotten. "I'm probably going to have to head home now," you said, standing and approaching the door.

"You can stay, if you want," he offered, desperate for you to stay the night. That would mean you would be the last person he saw before he slept and the first person he saw when he woke up. He'd let you sleep in a bit and make sure you had the best breakfast so you were ready for the day.

"I wish I could, but all my vitamins and stuff are back at my hotel," you said, wanting to stay more than anything. "Can I drive you?"

"Yeah, that'd be great." you nodded.

The pair of you headed to the garage and drove back to the hotel. Max swiftly rounded the car and opened the door for you. "Thank you for today, I really needed it and I've had a great time," you said, standing outside the hotel.

"No problem, I'll tell the door people to let you in if you ever want to use the apartment or anything,"

"I'll get this washed and back to you as soon as possible," you said, tugging at the soft material of his hoodie. "Keep it, it looks good on you," he smirked, and, for a moment, his mind wandered to a scenario where it was on the floor.

"Thank you, Maxie," you blushed. You placed your hands on his shoulders and kissed him on the cheek, before dashing through the doors of the hotel lobby, leaving Max stood there with the biggest grin on his face. He had spent so long loving you from afar, that it was heavenly to imagine loving you that close. It was almost scary.

Suddenly, an idea struck him. He caught a glimpse of you skipping up some stairs to the left of the foyer, so he ran inside the hotel and followed you. Just as he rounded the corner of one of the many corridors, he saw a door closing and the navy blue and orange hoodie going through it.

You heard someone knocking on your door, and you found it weird. Standing on your tiptoes to look through the peephole, you saw the Dutchman stood outside the door. "Miss me already?" you laughed, opening the door.

"I was just wondering if you wanted to go to dinner with me one night next week?" he asked, fear taking over his body. Maybe you only saw him as a friend, but how would he know if he didn't try. "Yeah, I'd love that," you smiled, trying not to squeal with happiness.

Your feelings for Max may have been relatively new, but that didn't discredit how strongly you felt for him. Maybe it was just because you were hormonal, but something deep in your heart told you that wasn't the case.

—

You had just exited the doctor's office after going in for a routine scan. Everything was perfectly fine and you had the pictures safely secure in your bag. Just as you hopped in the car, your phone buzzed. To your excitement, it was Max asking about the evenings dinner schedule. He said he was going to pick you up at half five so you could be at the restaurant for 6.

Your heart sang at the thought of getting to go out with him outside of work and you couldn't wait to see him. Of course, you said it was fine, and tried to contain your scream of excitement as you started the car.

Now, you were planning what you were going to wear and how you wanted to do your hair. You were trying to tell yourself that he was still just being friendly. Friends went out on dinners, right? But did they go to dinners at nice restaurant and give people the keys to their apartment? You didn't know.

When you arrived home, you sprung into action of ripping through your entire closet, trying to find something that you A) wanted to wear, and B) something that fit you. You were progressively getting bigger, but you could still fit into the majority of your clothes.

In the end, you picked a long, flowing blue maxi dress. You kept the makeup light, opting for a few swipes of blush and so flicks of mascara. You had washed your hair and had just let it fall around your face in beachy waves.

At twenty minutes past five, the shrill doorbell of your house split your ears and caused you to spring up from the couch and open the door. There was no doubt that it was Max on the other side, but actually seeing him there made you want to pinch yourself to make sure it was really real.

He was wearing a navy blue button up (he looked great in navy) and a pair of slacks. Not seeing him in Red Bull merch was a shock, but a wholly welcomed one. "Hi," you grinned, welcoming him into the house.

As Max peered around, he saw empty spaces on the walls where you must have had pictures of you and Scott. He hoped that there would be pictures of the two of you up there if things went how he so desperately wanted them to.

"Let me just grab my purse and we can head off," you smiled, your heels clicking on the floor as you approached the coat rack where your bag was. Plucking it off the rack, you found Max holding a framed photo in his hands. He was stood next to the coffee table, so you knew it was one from when you were younger.

"How old were you in this?" he asked, assuming it was only a few years ago. It was recent, at least. "I was about nineteen?" you said, trying to count the years back in your head.

"Really? You have not changed a bit," he said, analysing you every feature in the picture, then comparing it to the real you. It was astonishing how you hadn't aged a day over all of those years. If anything, you looked more alive and glowing now than you did in the picture.

"A lot has changed about me, Maxie," you sighed, thinking about how naive you were back then. If someone had told you that you would be a single mother-to-be, and the child's father was an absolute piece of shit, you would have laughed at them.

"And it's all for the better," he complimented. You turned away to cover up the blush that was already creeping up onto your cheeks and walked to the door. Exiting the house, you locked the door behind you and started walking down the stone path to the car.

Max skipped in front of you, opening the car door for you. "You look breathtaking tonight," he softly smiled, and you were too close to melting to the ground. "Thank you," you smiled. You hadn't been complimented on your appearance in a while, even when you were still with Scott.

The drive to the restaurant was short and sweet, and it was a lot nicer than you expected. The outside was clad with windows and the lighting was warm yet intimate. This place was nice. Really nice. As soon as the wait staff saw Max, they led you right through to a cozy booth in the corner.

As you walked, Max tentatively placed his hand on the small of you back and it felt like electricity was pulsing through your veins. You had it, and you had it bad for him. For Max, just getting to take you out to dinner was dizzying after pining after you for all that time.

The plates had just been cleared away, and a thought struck you. "I've got something to show you," you giggled, reaching into your bag and producing the photos you had gotten today. Passing them to him, you noticed how his eyes lit up at the sight of them.

Running his fingers over the features of your child, he felt an overwhelming sense of love fill his heart. Everything about them was perfect, and they looked just like you, even if it was still early on. He mentally reprimanded himself for loving something so small so much, since he didn't feel he had a right to.

The child wasn't his, and nor were you. Something that felt like a pang of jealousy rippled through his body. This was what he had wanted for years, and there was no one better in his mind for him. He didn't care that the child wasn't biologically his, that didn't matter. What mattered was that he would love them like his own and give them, and you, the best life he could possibly provide.

But, he left like he was getting way to ahead of himself. They were only on their first date, and he didn't want to rush anything.

"Wow," was all he could manage to get out as his eyes were transfixed on the tiny face of your baby. He left his mouth slightly agape. You found it adorable at how bewildered he was at the child, and those three precious words were thrown at the front of your mind and you had to swat them away before you blurted anything out.

It was the hormones, you were sure of it.

"Have you thought of any names?" he asked, wanting to know as much as you were willing to tell you. What you didn't need to know, was that he had been brainstorming names the night before. He couldn't help himself.

They were all Dutch names, so he didn't think you'd like them. "Not particularly, I haven't thought about it much to be honest," you told him, "Have you got any suggestions?"

Max pretended to look like he was thinking, and as if he didn't have ideas already. "Is it alright if they're Dutch?"

"Yeah, of course,"

"Aleta is nice, that was popular for a while. Ruben is also nice, not as popular but still," he said, itching to talk more about babies. He had a very bad case of baby fever at the moment. "I like those, a lot," you smiled, enjoying talking about this with someone and, for a few short seconds, it felt like you were two parents talking about your first child together.

"Can I get you two any coffees or desserts?" the cheerful waiter asked, his notepad out ready for your order. "That warm chocolate fudge cake is sounding way to good, so I'll take that, please," you smiled, handing the dessert menu back to the waiter.

"I'm alright, thank you," Max shook his head when the waiter looked to him. "I will take a cappuccino, though," he said. The waiter walked away to the kitchen, ready to hand in your order.

"The things I would do for a coffee," you half complained, half joked, missing the buzz that caffein gave you. "Oh, sorry, I didn't even think," he panicked, ready to call the waiter back over and cancel the coffee. "No, no. I didn't mean it like that. You can have whatever you want,"

A few minutes later, the waiter was back with Max's perfectly brewed cappuccino and set it down in front of him. You found it odd that he didn't touch it for a short while. "You going to drink that, or are you going to tease me?" you laughed.

"I was waiting until yours got here,"

"Oh, start, it'll get cold,".

It wasn't long before your hot chocolate fudge cake was place in front of you, chocolate sauce oozing off the top. You wasted no time tucking into it, and you could tell that Max was staring longingly at it. "You want some?" you asked, seeing as he looked at his now pitiful cappuccino.

"No, it's yours," he shook his head, struggling not to just steal the plate off of you.

"Come on, I know you want some," you said, holding the fork out to him. Without a second glance, he took the bite and his eyes rolled to the back of his head. The gooey, chocolate, fudginess was one of the best things he had ever tasted.

"Can I have some more?" he mumbled, earning a hearty laugh from you. As cliche as it sounded, everyone else in the restaurant faded away and all he could hear was the angelic sound of your laugh through the noise.

In the end, you ended up sharing the cake as Max couldn't get enough. He paid the bill, much to your protest, and you headed out to the carpark. The night air was chilling as you walked towards the car, and Max couldn't help but notice the shivers you were having.

Without a second thought, he shrugged his jacket off and draped it over your shoulders. "The car is literally right there," you said, but you admired his gesture a great deal.

"I know, but I can't have you or the baby getting cold." If it wasn't for the darkness of the night, you would see him getting as red as a tomato. "Well thank you, Maxie,"

Max drove you home, dropping you off on the doorstep. "Can I take you out again one night?" he stumbled over his words. He enjoyed taking you out and spoiling you, and he wanted to carry on doing so. "Yeah, I've had a lot of fun. Thank you for dinner, Maxie," you smiled, wanting to bring him in the house, but you both had work the next day.

"Anytime, anytime," he smiled, turning to walk back towards the car.

"Max!" you called out after him, jogging down the stone paving. You draped the jacket back around his shoulders and cupped his cheek with one hand. You swiftly kissed him on the cheek, saying a quick, "Goodnight, Max," before you closed the door.

—

Over the past couple of weeks, you and Max had been on a multitude of dates, most of the time it was more than once a week. You saw each other pretty much every day at work, and talked most evenings over the phone.

You had gone on all sorts of different dates, from movies, to dinners, to boating afternoons. He had even tried to teach you to play golf, but you weren't much good. 

You had a dinner date scheduled tonight, but you really weren't feeling up to it tonight. You had been nauseous and had a heachache all day, so you didn't want to leave the house. Max had asked Christian to send you home early, and he had done exactly that.

However, you didn't want to cancel your date, so you invited him over to yours for movie night. You wore a pair of sweats and the hoodie he gave you; you had the snacks and drinks all set out on the coffee table.

You had already told him to just let himself in, so the sound of the front door opening made ropes of happiness lash your entire being. "Take a seat and get ready for the best night of your life," you smiled as he sat right next to you.

Max knew any night with you would be one of the best, but tonight was the night he wanted to make his move. What the move was? He didn't know yet.

As the movie rolled on and you munched on the snacks, your neck was starting to hurt due to the position you were sat in. You let your neck muscles soften as you rested your head onto Max's shoulder, and you felt him tense up a bit.

But, he was back to being relaxed almost instantly. As the movie went on, Max slung an arm around your shoulders as he tried to build up the courage to tell you he liked you. But, something was still holding him back. He didn't necessarily know if you felt the same.

It was as if you had read his mind, as you plucked up the nerve to grab his hand. You laced your fingers together, and his hand was a lot warmer in yours. He started gently running his thumb up and down and, even though it was small, it was still a soothing gesture.

You stayed like that through the whole movie, until the credits started to roll. Neither of you were really focusing on it, though. You turned your head to rest your chin on Max's shoulder, and you just admired him. He also turned to look at you, a smile spreading across his lips when he met your gaze.

There was no better time, so he leant in until your lips connected. It was instant sparks, until the kiss deepened. You had both been waiting for this, and you didn't want to be the one to end it. Fortunately, Max pulled away and looked at you.

A million thoughts raced through his mind and he wanted to dive straight back into kissing you. "I really like you," he muttered, letting his hand linger on the side of your face. He had just taken the plunge into ice cold water that he had been teetering on the edge of for years.

"I really like you too," you said back. Max had just emerged from the surface of the water and euphoria filled his veins. "Will you be my girlfriend?" he asked, pulling you closer to you. The feeling of finally getting to hold you in his arms was beyond winning any race or championship, and he never wanted to let go.

"I don't know, Maxie. It's not that I don't like you, because I really do. Like, a lot. But I don't want to rush you because I need something that's forever because I don't want to bring a child up in an environment where there's someone coming and going. They need stability," you explained.

You knew Max would never hurt you on purpose, but you needed a safe, warm, loving environment for your baby. "I get that, and I want to give that to you. You deserve someone to love you, and the baby more than anything else in the world. I want to be that person, and I completely understand if you don't want to accept and wait, because I'll be here," he said.

That was when you had an epiphany. It was like this feeling that everything was finally falling into place and that you were in the right spot in life. You had never felt anything like this with Scott, and your heart was yelling at you, screaming at you to let Max into your life as more than a friend.

Something in your gut knew he was the right one, and you'd be stupid not to accept that. "I want to be your girlfriend, Max. I'd be an idiot not to," you smiled, and the elated look on his face told you you had made the right decision.

He kissed you again with all the love and compassion he had pent up since he first saw you, and he never thought, not in his wildest dreams, that he would get to have you like this. It was pure perfection.

—

"Y/N! Come on, we need to go!" Max shouted up the stairs to you as he stood in the kitchen, fidgeting on the spot out of nervousness. "Max, we don't need to be there for another forty five minutes," you yelled back, finishing wrapping the hair tie around your hair. 

"If we're early, they might let us in sooner," he bartered, standing near the front door to try and hurry you along a bit. "They run on appointments, not first come first serve," you told him, heading down the stairs. 

"Please?" Max pouted, as if he were a small child asking for more sweets, "I'm just really excited," he said as you walked up to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

"I know, so am I," you smiled, placing a soft kiss on his lips.

"If we go now, we can go get ice cream," he bargained, placing his hands on your hips and swaying you from side to side. "Can I get a sundae?"

"You can get whatever you want," he reassured, hoping it would win you over and let him take you earlier. "OK, we can go," you said as he bounded out of the front door and to your car door, opening it for you. 

Slipping your arms through the sleeves of your coat, you hopped in the car with him. He held his hand on your thigh throughout the entire drive, and it was his small actions of affection that made you fall even more in love with him every day.

Once you had parked the car, Max practically dragged you through the doors of the doctor's office and checked in. He sat in the chair fidgeting until you were called in. "Max, calm down," you said, placing a hand on his bouncing knee. 

"Sorry, I'm just really excited," he grinned, unable to stop himself from smiling. 

"I'm glad you are." It was refreshing to see someone so excited to be with you as this was the first time you had brought someone to your scan. The nurse came out and called you in and you led down on the bed like always. 

"How are you feeling?" the nurse asked, squirting the gel onto her hands. 

"I'm great thank you," you smiled, watching as Max looked bewildered as he gazed around the room. "Who's this?" she asked.

"This is Max, he's my boyfriend," you said. She knew Max wasn't the father since she was one of the first people to hear about what Scott had done, but she liked the look of him. He seemed put together and polite. 

Instinctively, you lifted your shirt and held your breath as she rubbed the cold substance on your belly. As she manoeuvred the machine over your stomach, Max gripped your hand in glee. His eyes were glued to the screen and the look on his face was priceless. 

On the screen, you could see the body of your child and it was one of the most magical experiences of your life. Peeking at Max, you could see he had tears in his eyes. "Maxie, darling, don't cry," you said, the sight of him crying nearly setting you off.

"I'm sorry, I'm just-" he started, unable to find the words to describe how happy and elated he felt. Seeing that small foetus on the screen filled his heart with so much love and light he was almost full to bursting. 

"It's pretty magnificent, huh?" you asked, averting your eyes back to the screen.

Max still hadn't uncovered the ability to speak, and just nodded with his mouth slightly agape. You printed off two more sets of pictures, one for you and one for Max, and left the doctor's knowing that your baby was perfectly happy and healthy. 

"Ice cream time!" you squealed, clapping your hands.

"Of course, how could I forget?" he smiled, shaking his head. 

—

Max had disappeared upstairs for around twenty minutes, but you didn't really question it. He mentioned something about a phone call, so you just let him do whatever. "Liefje? Can you come here for a second?" he shouted down to you.

"Coming!" you replied, pausing the TV show you were watching and trudging up the stairs. "Yeah?" 

"I'm in here!" he called, his voice carrying from the bedroom. You walked through and saw that there were no lights on anywhere. The bathroom door opened and you saw some candles were lit on the inside. 

From somewhere, Max emerged with a huge bouquet of blood red roses in his hands. "How on Earth have you-" you started, trying not to burst into tears at his gesture. Suddenly, a figure dashed out of wardrobe, downstairs and out of the front door.

"I had a bit of help," he laughed, and you could tell by the sound of the giggle that it was a certain Aussie helping him out while he was in the UK. "Clearly," you playfully scoffed, taking the roses from him and inhaling their sweet scent. 

"What's all this for?" you asked, capturing his lips in yours and giving him a compassionate kiss. "Ik hou van je," he spoke in Dutch, and you just blinked at him. He had been teaching you bits of Dutch, but that was not part of your vocabulary yet. 

"What's ik?" he asked, teacher Max coming out in full swing. 

"I," you slowly said, not able to connect the dots and see where he was going with this impromptu Dutch lesson. "And what is je?" 

"You," you said, squinting at him as you thought. 

"Translate it on your phone," he instructed, the cheeky grin on his face becoming more prominent and hard to conceal. "Ik hou van je," he repeated as you typed it into the translator app. 

Refreshing the page and using different translators, they all gave you those three precious words as the answer. You flashed the phone at Max to get confirmation, and he simply nodded. "Ik hou van je," he repeated a final time.

"I love you too," you said as the words on the screen were blurred with tears of pure, unbridled joy. Scott had never made you feel like this, even when you first made your declarations of love to each other.  Max was special. 

"Let me put those in a vase," he said, plucking the roses out of your hands and running downstairs to water them and set them on the side. You strode into the bathroom, seeing the tub filled up with bubbles and candles dotted around the room. 

He had even sprinkled some rose petals on the top of the froth.

You had just finished stripping off and were about to step into the bath, when you heard rushed footsteps behind you. "Hey, wait for me. The last thing I need is you slipping," Max said, taking your hand and helping you sink into the water. 

It wasn't long before Max was clambering in behind you, pulling you flush against him so your back was to his front. His hands instinctively moved to rest on your swollen stomach, gently massaging the area. 

You allowed yourself to close your eyes and fully relax as Max peppered a few kisses in your hair. "Je bent geweldig," he softly mumbled.

"In het Engels, alsjeblieft," you responded, your brain not being in the mood to try and recall your Dutch. "You're incredible. I can give you some synonyms if you want. You're perfect, amazing, magnificent, spectacular," he started to list, "Do you want me to carry on?"

"Yes, but you probably shouldn't, my ego is inflating a huge deal right now," you smiled. Scott never did these kinds of things, and if you were still with him, you'd be sat in silence, watching TV or something. 

Max was brilliant, and he thought the world of you. There was no better way to spend evenings than with you in his arms and relaxing, away from the prying eyes of the world. 

—

You had just reached the seven month mark and were getting ready to take maternity leave. You were desperate to stay at work to see Max close out the season with a title, and were planning to go to Abu Dhabi with him for the last race.

The doctor had said you could fly and be fine, and you knew Max would be watching you like a hawk for the whole thing.

Today was one of those days when the nausea was lingering throughout, and you were counting down the days until you could leave - even if you could leave whenever you wanted. Max had woken up early with you as you sprang out of bed and were reminded of how much your child loves you.

Having him by your side was the best thing that had happened to you for a while, and it was amazing to not have to go through it alone anymore. He had tried to convince you not to go to work and to stay at home, but you refused. You wanted to carry on your day as normal.

You noticed his eyes on you all day, and he was checking up on you all the time and you couldn't catch a break. Before the end of the season, you were having a meeting with Max, Checo, Christian and some other people in the team.

You had needed to finish something off before the meeting, so you were a few seconds late and all of the chairs in the boardroom were full. You were happy to stand in the corner, but someone wasn't. Out of the corner of your eye you spotted someone standing up. "Y/N," he called, nodding at the chair.

You sat down and Max stood behind you, and you could feel his eyes on the back of your head. Roughly around halfway through the meeting, another, massive nauseous wave washed over you and there was no suppressing it this time.

"Sorry, I'll be back in two minutes," you managed to get out before rushing out of the room and towards the nearest bathroom. Fumbling with the door, you managed to get in just in time and threw up in the nearest toilet.

The door opened up instantly, and your hair was pulled back behind your neck and a hand was rubbing up and down your back softly. It wasn't long before you were done, and you looked up at Max through glassy eyes. "You go back to the meeting, I'm fine," you said, forcing a smile.

"Not a chance, liefje," he said, grabbing some toilet roll and gently dabbing around your mouth. "You're going home, come on," he said, tugging you into a hug.

"It's alright, I'll be fine," you said, the nausea going away after letting it all out.

"No, Y/N. I'm not taking no for an answer, I'm taking you home," he instructed quite forcefully. There was no point in arguing, so you walked out with him, hand in hand. You had only told people in Red Bull and a few close friends about you, but you weren't ready to tell the world yet.

As you walked past the boardroom, Max nodded at Christian and it was enough for him to know that you were going home. Max got you home and escorted you through the door and down onto the couch. "You stay there, and I'll be back in half an hour," he kissed you on the lips, then planted a soft kiss in your hair.

"And you stop making your mommy sick, it's not fair," he laughed, gently rubbing your stomach before he left. Then, there you were, left in the house until Max got back.

—

After the boardroom incident, Christian had forced you to go onto maternity leave early, and he promised he would still pay you for the extra time taken off. Now, you were in the private terminal of the airport, waiting for him to return to your shared apartment in Monaco.

You had flown over to live with him once you had gotten off work, and he was still trying to convince you to be a full time, stay at home mum. Through walked Max, his backpack slung over his shoulder and his features more sunken after his flight from Abu Dhabi.

His stature immediately straightened up when he spotted you walking towards him, "I missed you so much," he whispered into your hair as he held you in his arms. Now, you had him all to yourself for a few months.

"We've missed you more," you said as he moved his hands to your stomach.

"Have they been causing you any problems while I've been away?" he asked, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "No, she hasn't," you smirked, waiting for him to get the hint.

"She?" he beamed, hoping he had heard you correctly. You zealously nodded at him, watching as his face contorted into the happiest expression a man could have on his face. "I love you so much. I love both of you so fucking much," he breathed, holding you as closely and as tightly as he could have.

"I love you too, Maxie,"

—

"Shit I am tired," you huffed, leaning back in the pillows of your hospital bed.

"You did incredibly, liefde," he beamed proudly, kissing you on the forehead. He had just undergone the most magical experience a man could go through, and he was so glad you had allowed him to be here.

"Can I talk to you for a second?" Max asked, and you were slightly scared.

"Is this something I want to hear right now," you moaned, that question almost never had a happy ending. "Yes, it is. If not, I completely get it and I respect your decision 100%, but I want to give her my last name," there had been no indication that he wanted to do this, but now it seemed like the best decision you could make for her. He thought he was moving too fast, but it might as well have been now over never. 

Tears brimmed in your eyes, and Max thought you weren't happy about it. It was quite the opposite. You wanted this more than anything. You had someone who was willing to give himself to you and your daughter. "She is your daughter, Max. She's a Verstappen," you happy cried, gazing at her as she slept in the cot in the corner of the room. "And I want you to be one too," he stated, shifting off the chair beside your bed and onto one knee on the floor.

From his pocket, he produced a small, black, velvet box and opened it to reveal the most stunning ring you had ever seen. "I know it's soon, but I want to prove to you that I will be here for you, and our daughter forever and that I love the two of you more than anything in the world," he said, trying to choke back the tears, "Will je met me trouwen?"

There was no confusion with what that phrase meant. "Yes, Max. A million times yes," you said as he slipped the ring on your finger. There was no doubt in your mind that this was the right thing for not only you, but for your daughter. 

Had he been bombarding you with a lot fo life-changing decisions? Yes, but he couldn't resist the perfect opportunity. 

You shuffled up on the bed and pulled Max on with you, resting your head on his chest and letting your weight rest on him. You had had a long few hours, that was for sure. So much had happened, and you were completely drained and needed a lot of sleep to replenish your energy.

"Have you guys decided on a name?" The nurse who was drafting the birth certificate asked.

You took one look at Max and your little angel in the corner, "Aleta Verstappen," you proudly spoke. The nurse smiled and asked for the spelling, which Max happily gave her. It wasn't long before you had fallen asleep and dreamt of the life you had built. 

—

You and Max were woken up by the shrill cry of your daughter ringing through the house. "You stay, I'll go," Max sleepily grumbled, rubbing his eyes and shuffling out of bed. This was your first night back at home since Aleta was born, and you were still unbelievably tired. 

The cries stopped shortly after, but as Max reemerged in the doorway, the screeches continued. You went to get up, but Max turned and went back. Yet again, the cried stopped, and your heart nearly did when Max walked into the room with Aleta held to his chest. It was the most perfect sight. 

"Max, she needs to sleep by herself," you told him, nearly falling back to sleep. 

"It's just one night, liefje," he said, and you were too tired to argue with him. He led back next to you, your newborn snuggly cuddled to his chest. It wasn't long before she was back asleep, and so was Max. Everything was perfection, and the two people in front of you were what mattered the most to you. 

You never thought perfection truly existed, but you were proven wholly wrong as you led there, the difficulties of the past month showing themselves as completely worth it. 

A/N - Do we want a bonus chapter? Or have we had enough after 10k+ words &lt;3. BTW I haven't proof read this...

|masterlist|

[dreamauri]

♪ — 𝗟𝗢𝗢𝗞 𝗔𝗧 𝗛𝗘𝗥 max verstappen x reader (fluff) “. . . while on a drive, lando's car breaks down and you're the best mechanic in town.”

( my master list | more of lando norris ) ( requests | taglist )

"Now my phone's dead too." Lando scoffed throwing his phone on the leather seat. He's been standing at the side of the blue carbon covered £380,00+ car for the past 20 minutes. He was in the middle of utterly no where, with no cars passing by ( the people that did stop, happen to not speak English nor Flemish Dutch for that matter yes lando tried speaking dutch to italians ).

What a lucky day.

And it was about to get a lot luckier when another car passing by stopped after Norris waved over. "I need help, with the car." He tried saying slowly, switching to Dutch to try his chances.

"I can . . . I can help push it? to uh . . . car doctor?" "Yes, car doctor, that would be great. Thank you." And so after about 2 hours of hard work, the two men ( well one man, one boy lando small ) arrived at a town where several other men came and helped Lando to the mechanics shop.

"Ask kiku. Uhhh . . . Kiku help with car. Very good."

Lando made sure to thank everyone before they left, going through the door. "Un momento per favore." [one moment please]. A female voice shouted through the garage, she was laying on a skateboard rolled under a car.

"Matteo!" she shouted again startling Lando. "Matteo. Porta qui il tuo culo e aiuta quel dannato uomo." [Matteo. Get your ass over here and help the god damn man]. 'Matteo' seemed to have either passed out and taken a nap or walked out. "marcire All 'inferno . . . Cosa c'è che non va nella tua auto?" [rot in hell . . . what's wrong with your car] You asked giving up on finding your co worker.

"I'm sorry?" Lando asked again feeling nervous in this situation, making you pause your tweaking. You rolled from under the car, looking at the British driver. "There shouldn't be anything wrong with your car." You spoke in English, fluently, rolling back under and continuing with the wrench.

"You didn't even take a look at my car-" He was stuttering. Lando was surprised and shocked. It's not everyday you run into a hot Italian women, that can fix cars and speaks English like she's from Chicago or Milton.

"What did you do to it. Were you racing with it? Drifting? Rallying? Or did you completely destroyed it, cause I don't have any carbon fiber or fancy doors and steering wheels."

"No." He replied to all of your questions. "Then it's fine. There's a gas station two roads south from here-" "You don't even know what the model of the car is." He argued, not believing you.

"You're Lando Norris, aren't you? its a 765LT Spider, McLaren." You answered with no hesitation, making the boy zip his mouth. "What do you want, Mr. Norris?" You asked again getting annoyed.

"I was told to look for, uh, Kiku was it?" He said unsurely. You sighed, grumbling a few Italian cuss words under your breath as you finished your current task. Rolling out, you stood up, lifting your tank top and wiping your face dry from the sweat, which in turn smudged some grease on your face.

Fuck not being attracted to Italian female mechanics, you were hot. Very attractive in Lando's eyes.

"I'm Kiku." You told him, handing him the greasy wrench. It was a stupid nickname a few friends gave you as a joke, and it stuck. You looked out at his car hand on your hip as you examined it. "Can you turn it on?" You asked as you approached it, ready to open the back trunk and check the engine.

Lando looked grossed out at the wrench, setting it on a random surface as he unlocked the truck. You examined the car for the next 15 minutes. "I can give it back tomorrow. It's not a big problem. Like I said, you're just out of gas."

"But the measure doesn't say that. And If it's just out of gas, shouldn't you be able to give it back today?" "Yeah. That's the problem, your fuel sender is lying to you and I have to change it." You patted his back, moving back into your garage.

"But I can't stay here forever." "What's wrong with this place?" You asked frowning, looking him in the eye. Lando was going to open his mouth before he closed it quickly. "Nothing I just don't-" why was he rushing? He didn't have places to be at the moment. ". . . I don't have a place to stay?" He answered, more like asked from how unsure of himself he was.

You looked at him for a few seconds. "You can wait over there, just don't touch anything." You told him sighing, nodding towards a few chairs near your office.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"I'm not getting in." Lando refused, looking at your green car. Well it wasn't any green car. It was a classic, a Ferrari 250 gte. Highlight Ferrari. "Yeah, I'm definitely not getting it."

"Suit yourself, the coyotes here would not pass on eating you alive." You joked, not even sure if there were coyotes. "It's not everyday you get to eat a formula one driver, especially a British McLaren driver named Norris." Yea that statement did it for Lando, quickly getting in the car and closing the door after him.

"Good boy." You humed, not really thinking about it as you pulled out the driveway and made your way home. Lando could feel his face redden, hearing your praise, crossing his arms and huffing.

When you arrived at your house, the McLaren diver was quick to jump out first. "Think fast." Lando turned around, quickly catching the keys you tossed. He dropped them once he saw the yellow and black logo with a yelp.

You were laughing at him, moving to his side and picking up the keys, moving towards the house. "casa mia è casa tua." you told him as soon as you unlocked the door. Landor entered after you, copying you as you took your shoes off. The first thing the British driver felt was warmth, your space was giving him solace. This place felt like home.

"You can look around, I'm not going to take long in the shower." You set your bag down on the floor near the couch, making your way to the bathroom. Land did look around, he felt curious. You clearly knew him but he knew so little about you. While scouting for information he found your collection of music discs.

When finally came out fresh, Lando was quick to ask you about a few pictures he found. You two were quickly becoming close with one another. Sharing stories and jokes.

"What about this one?" Lando pointed to one on the grand piano. "Oh yea, I can totally see the picture, Mr. Norris." You chuckled. You were busy with your hands, making dinner for both of you ( you usually ordered out but it world be rude to do that with a guest around so you were putting your heart out in the spaghetti you wee making from scratch, something you knew would impress the McLaren driver ).

Lando picked up the photo frame walking over to you. "Why do you keep calling me by my last name? I have a first name, or did you forget." He chuckled looking at you. "Cause your first name sounds like London." You teased joking. It was out of respect, you did not want to get on his bad side, and it did sound like London just a bit.

Lando smiled laughing. "Well, I'd rather you call me by my first name." "Of course, Mr. Norris." You teased, leaning your forearms on the counter, flicking some flower on his face. He only held up the photo in return. "Oh, I remember this." You hummed, wiping your hand in a towel, taking the photo.

"It was before the last race for the European karting championship. I think I was . . . eleven in that picture?" Lando moved beside you looking down at it. You were in your kart, with your helmet on holding a thumbs up.

You took a moment looking at the photo, your father was sitting beside you on the floor, delivering the kart it's last few tweaks before the race. "You karted?" Lando asked, ruining the moment.

"No." You sarcastically replied, pushing the picture on his chest. "I flew planes at the age of two." You rolled your eyes. "Did you win?" "Hell yeah, I did. Do I look like some weak ass sissy?" You replied laughing. "That championship was mine. I Literally beat up Albon and Leclerc. "

"Really?" He was interested, leaning forward to listen closely. "What else did you race in?" "Just that really." You shrugged smiling. "Other than the karting track a few blocks down." "There's a karting track a few blocks down?" You looked at him blinking quietly. "I think answered your question before you answered it."

The boy looked away chuckling nervously. "Right." "I can drop you off tomorrow morning while I fix your car." You offered as you gently cooked the chicken alfredo. "Really?" You looked back at him deadpanning. "I mean, I'd enjoy that. Thank you."

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Hey, I never got to ask, why didn't you continue with racing? You won the championship after all. We could've been competing in f1 together." The sun had already risen again and Lando was unwillingly sitting in your car as you drove through the town. "Not everyone is high born, Norris." You sighed, shrugging. "It's my cannon event. Besides, I'm happy like this."

After finally fixing the lying fuel measure, you drove the McLaren to the karting track, honking the horn to get the attention of the race car driver.

Turning back from the fence, Lando smiled upon seeing you lean on the blue carbon in the car park. "You fixed her!" "Of course I did." You chuckled, tossing him his keys once he was close enough. "You're free to go Mr. Norris." You chuckled getting off the McLaren and patting his back. "I don't need to leave just yet . . . by the way do you have plans next week?" "Why what are you up to."

lando.jpg

lando.jpg lesson learned, always carry a portable car mechanic with you

alex_albon ease my heart and tell me thats not who i think it is ↳ youruser long time no see alex ↳ alex_albon THE POWER OF CHRIST COMPLES YOU ↳ user 💀

charles_leclerc omg ew, kart theif ↳ youruser you're ew, you took my kart first! ↳ charles_leclerc it was a good kart ↳ alex_albon your only win ↳ charles_leclerc THATS MEAN

user who's that ↳ maxverstappen1 a nightmare ↳ youruser hey max ↳ maxverstappen1 BEGONE DEMON

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Hi! If you're still taking requests I'd love request a drabble about the moment when Konig and Reader first noticed each other and what they thought/felt during that moment based on your "Just Friends" fic.

Btw I love your work and oh my god, it's perfection, absolutely amazing. Super excited to read chapter 3&4 (no rush take your time!!)

Thabj you!!!

Even Demons are Lonely

Wordcount: 3.8 k

Summary: König sees reader for the first time. Soon, the promise to never touch someone as lovely as her turns into a vow to never leave her side.

Tags/warnings: F!Reader, König POV, Just Friends universe. Angst, twisted & fluffy feelings, pining, obsessive behavior, stalking, panty stealing, mentions of past trauma, abuse and patricide, yandere!König falling in love (=being delusional). Mild sexual and violent themes. 

A/N: I did take my time with this one... 🩷 And it's only König POV, but I hope you enjoy! 💋

"Abashed the Devil stood, and felt how awful goodness is, and saw Virtue in her shape how lovely – saw, and pined His loss..."

– John Milton, Paradise Lost

Purgatory.

That's the word that stuck to him when he was learning English at school, simply because it was an accurate definition of how he felt.

Adults used to say there is heaven and hell, and then this world, the world of humans, somewhere in between. They said he would go to heaven after he died and that bad people would go to hell.

They were all liars because hell already existed here on Earth. He had lived there ever since he was born.

The first memories of the cutting are shallow and pale, like they happened to some other boy. With every hit and cut and every cry, the sounds turned muddy until he was mute too, until all he could hear was mother's crying and Papa's roaring. The old man always got more mad when people cried and cowered. 

That's when he knew he would someday do something about bad people, that crying and cowering and begging wasn't going to help. It was the birth hour of hope and heaven. He dreamed of killing his father, killing his "friends", killing everyone who looked at him like he was a freak. 

He soon learned that this was not what people associated with heaven at all. He learned that there was a word for people like him, for phantoms who were morbidly interested in death and decay.

Ghoul.

A grave robber and a corpse feaster he was not, but neither was he going to pretend that some people didn't deserve to be gutted. If being normal meant he should just play along and pretend that there was justice in this world, then he was happy to be morbid. A little ghoul boy who grew up in hell, who dreamed of heaven, who slipped behind the thin veil between the worlds when he was four, who learned how to make the knives dance while everyone around him suffered.

He learned to cry and beg before he learned to speak, but when the words finally started to make sense to him, he had no use for them. No one wanted to talk to him, so he settled to observe. Life was a film reel running by, and words were useless when all he wanted to do was roar. There was a growing, gaping maw inside him, shrieking and spitting blood while he was without a voice.

It took a while to make Papa cry and beg. But he begged, eventually. In his last words, he tried to hide behind a woman’s skirt. 

"Don't do this to your mother," was a plea that didn't ignite mercy: it drove him off the ledge. Looking at the horrible excuse for a man squirming at his feet made him realize he should've released his mother from this demon years ago. He was too weak, and he vowed to himself, to the whole world, that he would never be weak again.

………………

Sometimes, a glimpse of true heaven can be seen on a clear summer's day when the sun shines, when bees are buzzing and a beautiful voice sings a love song on the radio. Beautiful, peaceful things only add to his suffering. They are simply evidence gathered – examples of everything he will never have. 

The air clots inside his mask with a brew of old sweat and acrid gunpowder. It's usually enriched by a hot desert wind or the stench of dust and emissions, a city's rotten core. It would feel odd to be met with a fresh breeze or the smell of rust and smoke than have them dampened by the baggy mask. He's certain that it would only be painful to feel the full brunt of the world on his naked face again. His enemies can't see him when he kills them, so they can't haunt him either.

He is the only ghoul here. He is the one who haunts.

He's learned to let love and peace go. He came here to reap; that's his job. Ghouls cannot love or be loved. They are supposed to get rid of the plague, do what normal people can't do, what good people deem hideous and wrong.

People have always been alien to him: they both know something he cannot seem to decode and are unaware of the constant presence of the Maw. He has to feed it in order to not be swallowed by it himself. It helps with the constant yelling for a while. 

His father was the first demon to be punished, but he has learned that all demons are liars when they beg. They don't know what real hell is like. That's why he didn't give mercy to his father, and that's why he doesn't give mercy to them, either. It's not hell, it's not heaven, so he must be in a limbo state in between. 

That's why he calls this place purgatory. 

………………

He sees a woman under the sun one day.

The sheer sight of her sitting there on her little blanket spread over the grass, dressed in a pure white dress is like a torturing dream from above. It stops him in his tracks like there is suddenly an invisible wall in front of him, forcing him to halt.

His heart is pounding, but that's not new. His heart is always tight and racing, and that's why it's better to have a heavy gun in his hands than hold onto nothing at all; it's better to do something than do nothing at all. The only thing that calms the endless roil inside him is work; when there's no work, it helps to go outdoors, somewhere between the shadows between thick trees.

Trees are better than people...

But they're not better than a woman like her.

He knows his mind plays tricks sometimes with females. That is why at first he thinks that the creature before him is not from this world either. How could someone like her even end up here? There are few ladies in the base, and none of them have picnics; none of them look like angels.

She looks up at the sky, at the single cloud drifting across the cerulean blue that hurts his eyes. Sun shines on her exposed throat, her stare is dreamy as she basks in the warmth and raises an apple to her lips. 

He stops breathing as she takes a bite, fearing it might stain the beautiful white dress from how juicy it is. The runaway apple juice drips down her chin, but she catches it with her finger, then sweeps the sweet taste of it back into her mouth. 

Her lips hug the finger gently as she savors the treat, and his breath returns to him, heavy and with a pang, like someone just punched him between the lungs.

She can't be human... 

He wonders if she's even real. 

He's hungry, but the need to devour this woman turns into a need to worship her before he can even decipher what is happening to him. He would grovel at her feet if that's what it took to get her to feed him some of that fruit. His mind goes numb from the need to march there and hug her. Just hold her, so close that he forgets what it is to breathe.

He knows she would only scream, and it's good he's been walking in the shade. It's good that she can't see him unless she turns her head. Because she must be an angel, and angels have no business with ghouls. 

He should go and leave her be... Mortals he can want, humans he can torture, but a celestial being he could never touch. The wind carries a whiff of apple juice to his nose; it overrides the stench of sweat and gun oil and smoke. 

And then the angel turns her head. 

It's Judgment Day, but she doesn't condemn him. She blinks a few times, lashes fluttering like he's another sun, the dreaded black sun, and she can't bear to look directly at him. But there's no disgust, no uneasiness, there's no fear. There's only shyness and the smallest smile. 

The pain inside his gut turns into a brutal stab, pure suffering. He hasn't hoped for anything for a long, long time. Now hope bleeds into his stomach with golden tingles, like those rays of sun that caress her skin.

He thought good things would feel… well, good, but to his horror, they feel painful too. She's painfully sweet. Even the demon inside him falls silent, the only demon he cannot destroy. It's finally quiet, as it should be. Everything in him bows to this greater power of Her. 

But she can't be real... His mind is sick and has finally conjured up the most beautiful thing he can never, ever have. He's been called a freak, he's been called a dumb ugly giant, he's been called so many things, but he's not stupid enough to think that the creature hugged by the golden aura of light is meant for him. 

So he squares his shoulders and pushes through the invisible wall, back behind the veil, back to where he belongs, and leaves the heavenly apparition in the sun.

………………

The next time he sees her is after a mission and inside the base. 

He brings mud and blood inside after a few rainy days spent in the mountains. He's so soaked that not even the 3-hour flight managed to dry all the dirt. She's waiting for him, or that's how it feels like when she gives him a small, relieved smile and starts to clean the mess he and every other operator leave behind.

His angel is not only a celestial visage but a cleaner.

She keeps the building that houses people who destroy life, clean. She scrubs the filth killers like him bring inside the cold, dead compound built on what used to be a forest full of birds, life, and wind through the trees. 

No one thanks this girl as she humbly dusts a table or mops the floor. No one understands that she's a saint for coming to the purgatory and making it a more decent place for the demons and ghouls to live. And she's relieved every time he comes back unharmed. She's happy to see he's alive. There's someone waiting for him. And not just someone, not just anyone, but an angel.

It's unbelievable how no one has claimed her yet. She has no one to keep her safe, and it makes his hands twitch. If he was her protector, she would never have to work again.

She's not like the rest of them: she doesn't turn her gaze away when he flicks a knife out. She likes to watch him make them dance. It's a ritual that makes him invincible on the battlefield. He used to do it every morning before school to stay safe – there were no angels back then to keep him alive.

He almost stops the first time he sees her watching how he goes through the rite. 

No, look away, little angel... You're not supposed to see this; this is a death dance, it's filthy, demonic magic.

But she's not afraid of his blades or the way he weaves his spell of protection. The girl follows his moves entranced. Her eyes shine, and he nearly drops the blade – he hasn't dropped a knife since he was ten – because there's hunger in her stare. Not as fathomless as his, but deep enough for him to recognize it. 

His angel is lonely and trapped too. 

He completes the dance, returns the knife to his pocket, and looks back, straight back.

She doesn't look away. She doesn't wince or lean back, no: she leans forward, and he can see it, the way her pulse flutters on her neck, the way her mouth opens even more, how a tiny pink tongue sweeps across her lips as she looks back into the jaws of damnation. It takes him a while to realize his angel must be wet, just from seeing how good he is with a knife. The notion doesn't only make his cock jolt; it throws him headfirst into the abyss. 

You'll never get rid of me now, the demon growls before he can choke him silent.

Her wet eyes, her wet, promising lips belong in a realm of madness. She's not filthy; his angel could never be filthy. But she's seducing him, which means she might seduce other men too. 

Has someone claimed her already…? 

What if she has a lover? Do they make her legs shake, do they make her mew?

Who does he have to kill?

………………

He breaks into her room that night. 

He only meant to stand watch and see if someone creeps to her in the cover of darkness. He thinks about different ways to kill her lover as he waits near her door. Should he just strangle them when they enter her room? Make her an offering, let her know she could have a far more powerful male if she wants?

No, he must use a knife... She will get wet if he uses a knife.

But no one appears: he is the only shadow in the dark hall, and after midnight, he decides to take a look at his innocent, sleeping angel. Just one look.

Her domain is full of softness, and he has to take a few deep breaths before he continues. Her world is so different from his that he nearly turns back and closes the door to paradise. But then her breathing calls to him, causing him to take a few steps. She sleeps with her window open, likes to listen to the sound of night birds before she falls asleep – just like he does…

The demon is awake in an instant and grabs him by the throat. 

No. 

Don’t look. If you look, she will steal your soul.

He freezes before he reaches her bed. His gaze sweeps her room instead, and the demon pants at the sight. Her dresses are laid out on a clothing rack: they salute him like a row of colorful flowers. Flowing and singing like a river, they hit him with a breeze made of life and all things good. 

She has a little armchair filled with cushions, and there's more softness and beauty everywhere he looks; he can see it even in the darkness of the night. Her delicate perfume that follows him as he follows her around the base lingers in the air and mixes with the distant birdsong and moonlight that shift the curtains in her room.

There's art on her walls, lively houseplants on the window sill, she has collected a cavalcade of cute little things on top of her drawer: nail polish and sea shells and beeswax candles and a piece of driftwood, a bottle of that perfume she uses, decorative lights above it all, placed around a small mirror. 

He wants all of that. 

He wants light and living things and greenery – he never had plants at home – he wants softness and cute little items, he wants to listen if the seashell still roars with the crashing waves were he to bring it to his ear. His mama always told him seashells remember the ocean because it used to be their home…

He wants her to light a honeyed candle and give him a bite of that apple, catch the juice as it runs down his scarred chin, or better yet, kiss it away before it falls. He wants to taste what's between her thighs. She must taste like honey and heaven.

One of the drawers is open, and from it, a torrent of cute little underthings is spilling out; they almost cascade on the floor. In different colors, too, and his hand reaches out and takes one before he can even think. He steals it like it's candy, then turns around with a stiff back and shoulders heavy from the sin he just committed.

He's about to go to the door, but her soft breathing calls him back. He tries to calm the demon - the girl can't steal anything: there's nothing left to steal. He has no soul, so he doesn't have to fear her either. 

Taking a few steps, he takes the peek he shouldn't take because it will only prolong his sentence in purgatory. Little does the demon know that he would suffer eternally for one little glimpse… 

She's not cocooned inside her blanket as he thought she would be. He thought he would find her coiled into a fetal position, curled into safety, but instead, she's sleeping on her back, arms spread next to her face, looking like she just fell from heaven and is feeling a little dizzy from the fall. She's calm and innocent as the moonlight brushes her cheek, her face free from all worry.

Why is she so cute, why is she so sweet? 

She has no right. She should be up in heaven.

He almost crawls on top of her right then and there, because blinding want is nothing compared to this. He wants to breathe her, breathe with her, hold her gently, and have her smile at him when she wakes up. He doesn't want to ruin her… He just wants a taste, see if an angel would like to have a demon worship her. If his worship would mean anything, if it had any power to persuade her to like him... 

He would never kneel before anyone, but he would kneel before her. In spirit, he is on his knees, and the only thing that makes him suffer is the fear that she might not want him, a ruined temple haunted by old, hateful spirits.

The madness was right. Apparently, there was a soul to steal, a tiny broken mosaic piece left, for the angel has it now. She owns what's left of him, the haunted temple is hers if she would ever want to come visit. He would restrain all those monsters so that she can walk freely and explore all the things buried under the rubble.

Her underwear burns his palm like a flower on fire. He only then realizes that there are no actual flowers in her room. He wonders if she would give him a kiss if he were to bring her one. Or two. Or an entire bouquet…

The demon inside cuts him with a searing blade – stupid idiot – she doesn't want to kiss your mauled face or love your ghouls. There's no treasure hidden inside that filthy rubble, there's only shit and blood and festering vomit. Better to just take her right now, see how tight she is, how wide her eyes go when a proper man comes to assert his will and authority. The demon tells him to at least ruin that cute thing in his hand and throw it on the table. Imagine her shocked little face when she wakes up…

Tears brim, and the maw of hell laughs with a roar of raging fire. He forces both down with a swallow and a wrench that shuts his heart.

There's no way she would ever let a man like him inside her. He's a sickness; no, he's an entire plague. He could try to make love to her, and she would only cry and bleed to death.

The smooth place between her brows gains a wrinkle as if she can hear his thoughts but doesn't agree with them. A little whimper escapes her nose, her head nods on the pillow; it looks like an attempt to hide while you're tied and cannot move. 

Pretty angel is having a nightmare, and it's no wonder. Of course she can sense she's being visited by a monster. 

He turns to leave, and notices another colorful thing on the floor: her underwear, and not clean. She's slipped out of it before bed: his angel is naked under that blanket. His angel sleeps naked…

He wonders if she has touched herself before sleep. Not with feverish, stern hands, like he does, but softly, under that blanket, with her features melting into pleasure as she comes with sighs and a series of desperate little whimpers. 

His blood turns to hellfire as he drops the underwear he's holding. It falls right next to the intoxicating thing he picks up instead. Taking a deep inhale, he can finally smell her. Not just her perfume, but her. She smells of an angel and a woman, raw, perfect woman, and he knows he's lost. This is worse than any dream or demon; this is worse than anything ever before. There's no going back now. 

Her scent calls to him, those hands frame her face in a gesture of surrender. She smiled at him on that day under the sun, and she smiled at him today.

What if he's spent enough time in hell? What if it's possible to have a taste of heaven?

He can't help but wonder if his angel wants this too... 

“Engel,” he whispers into the night.

It takes only a second before she whimpers again. It's an answer, it's a yes, and his heart is full of tiny needles; they pinch him with terrible love and hope. The wrinkle has smoothed out, and his angel is smiling very, very softly. 

She's calling for him. How could he refuse?

His angel is full of light as he makes his decision. He whispers his apology, only in his mind and only in German, trusting that angels must know every language in the world. He asks for her forgiveness for all the things he's about to do to her. Then he promises he will come for her, that she doesn't need to worry: she has a guardian now and always will. She will be forever safe with him by her side. He will drive even her nightmares away.

Then he returns to his room so different from hers, returns to the realm of death and worships the thing he just stole, spraying it with hot, white love - the only thing inside him that can be called pure, the color of angels. It's only a matter of time before he gets to worship her in the flesh, unite with her, the soul who forgave his sins and slipped him the key to heaven.

[kamotecue]

accidental encounter ✮ k. cooney-cross

pairing: kyra cooney-cross x reader

summary: in which kyra cooney-cross bumps into the younger sister of her team mate, how does their story blossom?

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

you were walking on the streets of milton, brisbane. your bodyguard and one of your closest friends, archie followed behind you. he was dressed in a black tux, that had a matching vest, and tie. it was the day of the bronze match, between sweden and australia.

you had your schedule cleared, as you missed a few of your sister’s games. there was this major business deal in the uk making made you fly out to seal the deal, which you did. there’s no doubt as you walked on the street, you caught people’s eyes.

however, you were focused on your phone call that you didn’t notice someone walking ahead. you accidentally bumped into her, sending you both to the ground.

your phone ended up falling on the street, absolutely shattering it, while her hands ended up around your waist. archie had a lopsided grin on his face, but he quickly helped you to your feet.

as he turned to the floor, he held his hand out to which the lady has grabbed. you watched as she dusted the dirt of herself. but you found yourself admiring her freckles, she looked cute.

“sorry about that, i was a bit busy.” you said, as she gave you a soft smile. archie picked up your phone, and slipped it into one of his pockets, before handing you a new one.

“no worries, i’m kyra.” she said, as you held out your hand for her to shake.

“y/n.” you took notice of the clothes she was wearing to see it be the matildas nike blue jacket, making you furrow your eyebrows. so she plays on the same team for your sister.

“do you perhaps play football?” you asked, as she nodded.

“yeah, i play for the matildas.” you gave her a soft smile, as you felt archie nudge you.

“good luck later, it’s the bronze match if i’m not mistaken?” you asked, as kyra nodded.

“will you be watching?” she asked, her voice was a bit eager but it wasn’t enough for you to notice it. but you gave her a nod, knowing how you’ll be there to support your older sister.

“great, i hope to see you there?” she gave you a small smile, as you nodded. she’d be able to see you as you were seated in the family and friends section.

you watched as she bid goodbye, you saw archie give you a smirk and you really wanted to remove it. however, you pulled something out of the inner slot of your coat, a gold vintage style automatic pocket watch, it had a silver chain where you could connected it to your vest.

you were also wearing a business attire, seeing as you had something to settle at your company before the match. you headed to the restaurant that your family was at, opening the door you saw your sister chatting with your parents.

you caught her eyes as she waved you over, you walked confidently catching the eyes of everyone in the room.

“hello el, did you miss me?” you asked, as ellie gave you a soft smile before pulling you into a hug.

“course i did, you’ve been busy with your company. archie, you’re welcome to sit with us.” she said, as you gave her a nod, you’ve been so busy with your company that you hardly had time to spend with your family. archie gave your older sister a smile, before he took a seat beside you.

“i missed you as well, el.” you said, as the food came. they ordered you a burger with a side of fries, not to mention pineapple juice.

“are you nervous, el?” you asked, watching your older sister you just gave you a short nod. you spent a few minutes laughing with your family, and catching up before you had to go.

“i’ll see you guys at the game, and el you got this.” you said kissing your sister’s cheek, before leaving. the ride to the company’s headquarters in brisbane was silent, but archie had hummed from time to time.

“how long do you think the meeting would take?” archie looked from the front mirror to see your facial expression, you looked a bit deep in thought.

“perhaps an hour or two, why?” archie asked, as you shrugged.

“just wondering if i have time to change my outfit:” you wanted to wear ellie’s jersey, if you couldn’t then you’d probably wear a football scarf.

you definitely didn’t have time to change your outfit, so you opted with the matildas scarf, it was worn around your neck. with your attire, you had attracted fans from both sides as it wasn’t quite fitted for the occasion.

however you just ignored their looks, and took your seat at the family and friends section, sitting besides one of your parent before taking a small bag of gummies.

then the kick off began, you were nervous. australia is one of the co-hosts of this tournament, so you knew what it meant for the team, for ellie. in the 26th minute, blackstenius goes down under pressure from polkinghorne, but you groaned after the var review a penalty was awarded to sweden.

rolfö from sweden’s team is the one to take the penalty, as she places the ball on the penalty mark. she takes a short run up, before drilling her shot low into the bottom right corner. arnold, the matlidas goal keeper dives right into the way but can’t exactly stretch across to keep it out of her net, 1-0.

the whistle was blown, signaling half time. you watched ellie’s facial expression as she headed to the tunnel, frustration is all across her face.

“never knew a game was this stressful.” you said, as your mother laughed. you already finished your first packet of gummies, opening the second one as you offered some to your mother who grabbed a few pieces.

then the second half has started, in the 57th minute catley sends a cross to fowler who shoots it, but it is deflected by eriksson who kicked it a few feet away, cooney-cross managed to get a tap on the ball, taking the risk and making it hit the back of the net scoring the equalizer. you watched as the aussie fans cheered.

all they need to do is maintain the score, while trying to get another goal but that’s exactly what they did. in the 89th minute, foord scored an absolute worldie. sweden has crumpled to the ground knowing that they couldn’t score another goal, as the whistle blew marking the end of the game.

you watched as the matildas’s substitute bench ran onto the field, celebrated with the XI that were huddled. they had just won the bronze medal, you wore a proud smile on your face, you were happy that your sister won.

as the game ended, they received their medal’s firstly taking a picture and they did the lap around the field. you felt someone pull you to the field, as it was ellie.

“come on, n/n. i would like for you to meet the team.” ellie said as you came to a quick stop, and looked at her with wide eyes.

“i don’t exactly think that my attire is appropriate for this-“ ellie just laughed, as she tugged your arm forward, pulling you to katrina gorry who was with harper and charli grant.

“ladies, i’d like to introduce my younger sister, this is y/n.” ellie said, as charli’s eyes had this look as if she knew something.

“it’s nice to meet you y/n, i’m katrina.” katrina said, as she introduced you to harper. harper reached out her hands, to which you laughed, and gently carried her.

“y/n?” kyra asked, as she approached you. ellie turning to you with a soft smirk, so she’s the one you talked about when you were having lunch with them.

all you described was someone you thought was cute, had freckles but she never thought it was her teammate.

“kyra, it’s nice to see you again.” you said, nudging your sister’s stomach as she coughed.

“so, you’re ellie’s sister?” she asked, as you gave her a nod.

“right, i forgot to introduce myself—i’m y/n carpenter.” you said, holding your hand out to shake as she laughed. she returned it and gave you a soft smile.

“i’m kyra cooney-cross.” you gave her a smile, as charli’s eyes widened.

“so you’re the cute person that bumped into kyra, this morning.” charli said, as kyra gave her a harsh look. you laughed, then nodded.

“i won’t say i’m cute, but i’m definitely am the one that bumped into her.“ kyra shook her head laughing along with you.

“ellie told us you played soccer, wanna score a goal?” kyra asked, as you looked at your shoes.

“why not” kyra passed you a ball, to which you started juggling before tossing it up, going into a seal position, the ball had landed on top of your nose. when the ball fell, you swung your leg and watched the ball curved sending it into the top corner.

“such a show off.” ellie joked, as you lightly shoved her. kyra looked at you with a soft smile, as you joked around with ellie.

since that encounter, kyra was the first one to make the move. she had asked you out on a date, to which you accepted. it was a dinner date, before having a night walk near the beach.

[planetdream]

STRANGE DREAMS ! [TEASER]

CHARACTERS ! demon!hyunjin x human!reader

GENRE ! horror. smut.

WORDS ! 792 [teaser] | approx. 6.2k [at time of posting teaser]

SYNOPSIS ! sometimes, you meet a strange man in your dreams. this is one of those times.

THIS FIC WILL CONTAIN ! edible-fueled writing. horror [potential gore—descriptions of blood. frightening figures and situations. descriptions of drowning. nightmares and sleep paralysis. demons, and thus], references to biblical lore [christianity] and small references to milton's paradise lost, if you squint. smut [d/s dynamics—predator versus prey. corruption. sex pollen. sexual manipulation]. and a lot of other things :) POSTED

⚠️ no gore in this teaser of course ⚠️

The physical energy of the presence behind you is familiar, but strikingly overwhelming—it crawls up your skin like sharp nails, giving you goosebumps—you don’t need to turn around to recognize it. It’s Him. You’re unsure of what he is, exactly, but sometimes you meet him in your dreams. Though deep down you know that his existence and connection to you reaches well beyond the odd worlds of your dream realm. When he touches you, your surroundings change. The waterfall that you were once at is yards away, tiny in perspective. Despite having not moved an inch, it seems that every time you blink, you’re further and further into the woods; trees surrounding you and most certain to bury any noises emitted within their leaves.

The rustling of the tree leaves sounds like a screech, almost like sharp nails against a chalkboard—sinking deep and clashing, scraping out the porcelain enamel. The sound alone affects your brain, echoing in your mind, blaring enough to make you hold your hand against your head. The sound stops once he presses his hand against your cheek—so cold it feels like burning fire, almost scalding enough to melt off your skin; but you do not flinch, nor do you back away, frozen in place. The feeling of his skin against yours evokes an emotional aching so deep, you can feel it festering in the pit of your stomach, spreading across your body and seeping into your veins—and somehow there is comfort in that. 

He’s speaking, and while you’re unable to make out the words he is saying, you can tell that his voice is soft, pillowy like a cloud. Honey-laced words dipping from his tongue as if he’s trying to convince or ask something of you. You avert your gaze, unsure of if you actually want to meet his eyes. 

His presence scares you just as much as it calms you. Intriguing, and homely but also frightening and domineering despite simply just standing there. Something about his demeanor feels off, or distorted, at the very least, as if he’s not actually in front of you. As if he was a result of your imagination instead of directly in your eyes view. He’s real, a hand against your skin, almost close enough for you to feel his breath lightly against your skin; and at the very least, he knows you. You know him, too, you think; of course, you’ve seen him in your dreams, but you’re inclined to believe you know him from somewhere else. 

“Where are we?” You ask him, avoiding eye contact, shaking away from the contact his hand makes with you. Jarringly, it doesn’t feel like you said anything at all. Your mouth was moving and the words presented themselves in your mind and yet you can’t hear a single thing you’re saying. The familiar fire within your throat when you speak is no longer there. 

“The Garden. It’s perfect here, isn’t it?” He gives you a small smile, seemingly understanding your indistinct confusion. Then, as he speaks up again, his voice drips with something resembling woe. “You and I used to live here a long time ago. I visit every so often, dip my legs into that spring back there, and then I reminisce on how pure life was back then before…” 

You think he’s talking again, but once again, you’re unable to hear him. You’re too busy lost in his face. The urge to press your lips against his gets stronger as you’re next to him. Then you realize he’s naked as well, and your entire body gets warmer. There’s a budding ache inside you that’s all too familiar, growing at a rapid pace. It’s almost like your body is on fire as a result of being within his presence. Hormones floating, hair standing on edge, your more sensual and raw instincts ready to unveil and latch onto him at any time. Head hurting the longer you’re in his presence until it all just stops. 

Everything stops. The trees are no longer rustling, birds no longer humming. There’s no splashing of the waterfall nor whistling of the wind. Just pure silence. The silence is uncomfortable, and causes you to stand still in your tracks like a deer, scared that if you make any sudden moves a predator might attack within the blink of an eye.

“Run,” He says. There’s nothing in his voice; no emotion nor a slight hint at what he’s thinking. But the word echoes in your mind, and sends a chill down your spine, causing the hairs on the back of your neck to stand on edge in either curiosity or total blood curdling fear. 

“What do you mean?”

“You need to run,” His voice drops lower. “And don’t get caught.”

💌 dreamie comeback season?? with a full fic??? hehe if u read this teaser thank u 😻 i hope i've piqued someones interest,,, this fic is very weird n self indulgent and filthy n im excited to share it 😸 had 2 change some of the writing for this teaser so i don't post anything 2 graphic lol n uuhhh... lemme kno ur thoughts 😻😻

© PLANETDREAM 2023

[rosegasly]

you came out of the blue.

MAX VERSTAPPEN X FEMALE READER

⇢ summary: she is beautiful in a quiet sort of way. hair unbound and flowing with the night’s breeze, her skin shimmers under the light, glitters like a thousand stars have scrambled down to adorn her. ⇢ genre: fluff ⇢ pairing: max verstappen x female reader/oc

The season was over another championship in the metaphorical bag for Max and a champions trophy for Redbull. After the worst possible start, things had really picked up for the team. Post sleepless nights and long hours put in by everyone on track as well as back in Milton Keynes, it had been a double landslide win. 

When finally, after what may very well have been the best season of his motor racing career, his friend and fellow Dutch musician had proposed joining him for a three-day music festival, well agreeing was a no-brainer for Max. 

He is weaving through the sparse but busy crowd backstage, a VIP pass hanging from his neck, letting him through uninterrupted. Contrary to the image the media had painted of him, Max was pretty outgoing. He didn’t spend time with the drivers off track as much as maybe Pierre or Charles did, but it was all because of the complicated and competitive nature of the sport and not at all because he didn’t enjoy being around people or as the media was fond of portraying–a surly grump. 

Max is straightforward, sometimes abrupt, and while he leaves most of those heated feelings back on track, he isn’t quite comfortable enough to play jolly best pals with the other drivers, either. 

“Max!” 

He swivels, eyes roving over the people until he finally spots the Dutch DJ and nods, making his way over. 

“Hey man, glad to see you are up. Didn’t think you would be after last night.” 

Max decides not to mention the persistent pounding hurting the left side of his face and jaw. He’s felt worse over the years training for races. 

“Yeah, just a little tired. When’s your set?” 

“It’s the last one bruv. Not for a while.”

He absently nods and with a promise to catch said man later disperses back into the crowd. 

It’s a few hours later when it’s dark out and he’s walking back with a drink from the food stalls built further away from the stage that he sees her. Max doesn’t recognise her, can’t even see her clearly from how far back he is, but he hears her voice, that raspy, low undertone, the slow, gentle sway of her hips as she sings and it captivates him. Something about her, the way she sings, her tone, the words, so vulnerable with her voice stripped bare. She is talking to him, spilling all her secrets in confidence under the hush of the night and not in front of thousands of people amidst the loud yells and cheers. 

Max walks closer and looks for a screen because he knows there isn’t a way he can push past the screaming crowd. He wouldn’t budge if he was in the front too, and it’s easy to get lost again now that he can see her clearly. 

She is beautiful in a quiet sort of way. Hair unbound and flowing with the night’s breeze, her skin shimmers under the light, glitters like a thousand stars have scrambled down to adorn her. It’s a sad song. She is talking of heartbreak and wanting to let go, being unable to and her voice dips, grows raspier, like she wants to cry, is on the verge of before it lifts, becomes crisp and clear and so so sweet. 

He doesn’t know her name, still can’t recognise her, but when she opens her eyes, his breath seizes. Twin pools of midnight skies gaze back at him through the screen and he feels naked. Like a word from her would crumble all his walls, the stranger in the gray bar whom he’d tell all of his world to, the fears that keep him from sleeping, the things that make him happy, the parts of him he is ashamed of, the ones he has worked years to build. 

The cheers grow louder, the song ends and so does her set because she goes back in and doesn’t come out, though he stays rooted where he is. Breathless, his pulse races under his skin with an itch to be closer to her. He wants to know her, touch her, bury her under thoughts of him as she has and be her muse. 

If his friend notices the slightly crazed look in his eyes when he asks him to introduce her, he is kind enough not to say anything. 

Max waits, impatient in a way he has never been. He isn’t used to falling apart like this. He is usually steel and calm, forged under the relentless rain of his hometown, aged on the racing track where a possible death lurks at every corner, every wrong inch of a move, yet here he is, tripping over his own feet, anxious over a girl. He doesn’t need his father to be a witness to feel his disapproval. 

 She comes out of her room backstage, ironically enough, tripping on her own feet and if anyone asks, he would chop it up to the years of developed reflexes but he feels the truth in his gut. Even if he weren’t an f1 driver, he would still have felt her losing her footing before anyone else. 

She lands in his arms and the way his hands clench around her waist tighter is entirely unconscious. She breathes an embarrassed laugh near his ear and he suppresses the shiver that wants to wrack his whole frame when it washes over him. She smells of mint and sugar, like the sweetest of things and he aches to have this woman he barely knows. 

Jokingly she wraps her arms around him too, making a pun about this being how she meets new people and introduces herself and Max feels her touch more acutely than he feels his car midrace, senses attuned to every bit that is she. Soaking all the words and breaths and glances like a man parched. 

He doesn’t remember introducing himself, unsure if he even said anything but soon she is ushering them into her room and he tails behind her, still spellbound like a child, amazed by her zest for her craft as she discusses her performance with his friend. It’s a foreign feeling, rare, the way he feels right now. Almost undeserving of her attention since he didn’t know who she was before, hasn’t heard her music, doesn’t know what’s the right thing to say. 

Max is all sharp edges and brusque words and is afraid to say the wrong thing. Come across as harsh and inadvertently drive her away. He feels no parts a two-time world champion and all parts an awkward teenager tongue-tied in front of his first real crush. But then she turns around, looks at him and smiles, cracks a joke, leans over at some point to lightly grab his arm, like she is letting him on a secret, including him in her own little bubble, and there’s nothing he can do to stop the joy from bubbling over in his heart.

thankyou to the anon for sending in the prompt and aww I m so happy to hear u like my writing 🥰🥰 happy reading luv 💕

[ditttiii]

omg I’m in love with your writing 🥰 can you maybe write a singer!reader with Charles or Max where he goes to her concert for the first time and is mesmerized by her??

MAX VERSTAPPEN X FEMALE READER

summary: she is beautiful in a quiet sort of way. Hair unbound and flowing with the night’s breeze, her skin shimmers under the light, glitters like a thousand stars have scrambled down to adorn her.

a/n: this fic and all future f1 updates will be posted onto my side account @rosegasly only.

The season was over another championship in the metaphorical bag for Max and a champions trophy for Redbull. After the worst possible start, things had really picked up for the team. Post sleepless nights and long hours put in by everyone on track as well as back in Milton Keynes, it had been a double landslide win. 

When finally, after what may very well have been the best season of his motor racing career, his friend and fellow Dutch musician had proposed joining him for a three-day music festival, well agreeing was a no-brainer for Max. 

He is weaving through the sparse but busy crowd backstage, a VIP pass hanging from his neck, letting him through uninterrupted. Contrary to the image the media had painted of him, Max was pretty outgoing. He didn’t spend time with the drivers off track as much as maybe Pierre or Charles did, but it was all because of the complicated and competitive nature of the sport and not at all because he didn’t enjoy being around people or as the media was fond of portraying–a surly grump. 

Max is straightforward, sometimes abrupt, and while he leaves most of those heated feelings back on track, he isn’t quite comfortable enough to play jolly best pals with the other drivers, either. 

“Max!” 

He swivels, eyes roving over the people until he finally spots the Dutch DJ and nods, making his way over. 

“Hey man, glad to see you are up. Didn’t think you would be after last night.” 

Max decides not to mention the persistent pounding hurting the left side of his face and jaw. He’s felt worse over the years training for races. 

“Yeah, just a little tired. When’s your set?” 

“It’s the last one bruv. Not for a while.”

He absently nods and with a promise to catch said man later disperses back into the crowd. 

It’s a few hours later when it’s dark out and he’s walking back with a drink from the food stalls built further away from the stage that he sees her. Max doesn’t recognise her, can’t even see her clearly from how far back he is, but he hears her voice, that raspy, low undertone, the slow, gentle sway of her hips as she sings and it captivates him. Something about her, the way she sings, her tone, the words, so vulnerable with her voice stripped bare. She is talking to him, spilling all her secrets in confidence under the hush of the night and not in front of thousands of people amidst the loud yells and cheers. 

Max walks closer and looks for a screen because he knows there isn’t a way he can push past the screaming crowd. He wouldn’t budge if he was in the front too, and it’s easy to get lost again now that he can see her clearly. 

She is beautiful in a quiet sort of way. Hair unbound and flowing with the night’s breeze, her skin shimmers under the light, glitters like a thousand stars have scrambled down to adorn her. It’s a sad song. She is talking of heartbreak and wanting to let go, being unable to and her voice dips, grows raspier, like she wants to cry, is on the verge of before it lifts, becomes crisp and clear and so so sweet. 

He doesn’t know her name, still can’t recognise her, but when she opens her eyes, his breath seizes. Twin pools of midnight skies gaze back at him through the screen and he feels naked. Like a word from her would crumble all his walls, the stranger in the gray bar whom he’d tell all of his world to, the fears that keep him from sleeping, the things that make him happy, the parts of him he is ashamed of, the ones he has worked years to build. 

The song ends, the cheers grow louder and so does her set because she goes back in and doesn’t come out, though he stays rooted where he is. Breathless, his pulse races under his skin with an itch to be closer to her. He wants to know her, touch her, bury her under thoughts of him as she has and be her muse. 

If his friend notices the slightly crazed look in his eyes when he asks him to introduce her, he is kind enough not to say anything. 

Max waits, impatient in a way he has never been. He isn’t used to falling apart like this. He is usually steel and calm, forged under the relentless rain of his hometown, aged on the racing track where a possible death lurks at every corner, every wrong inch of a move, yet here he is, tripping over his own feet, anxious over a girl. He doesn’t need his father to be a witness to feel his disapproval. 

 She comes out of her room backstage, ironically enough, tripping on her own feet and if anyone asks, he would chop it up to the years of developed reflexes but he feels the truth in his gut. Even if he weren’t an f1 driver, he would still have felt her losing her footing before anyone else. 

She lands in his arms and the way his hands clench around her waist tighter is entirely unconscious. She breathes an embarrassed laugh near his ear and he suppresses the shiver that wants to wrack his whole frame when it washes over him. She smells of mint and sugar, like the sweetest of things and he aches to have this woman he barely knows. 

Jokingly she wraps her arms around him too, making a pun about this being how she meets new people and introduces herself and Max feels her touch more acutely than he feels his car midrace, senses attuned to every bit that is she. Soaking all the words and breaths and glances like a man parched. 

He doesn’t remember introducing himself, unsure if he even said anything but soon she is ushering them into her room and he tails behind her, still spellbound like a child, amazed by her zest for her craft as she discusses her performance with his friend. It’s a foreign feeling, rare, the way he feels right now. Almost undeserving of her attention since he didn’t know who she was before, hasn’t heard her music, doesn’t know what’s the right thing to say. 

Max is all sharp edges and brusque words and is afraid to say the wrong thing. Come across as harsh and inadvertently drive her away. He feels no parts a two-time world champion and all parts an awkward teenager tongue-tied in front of his first real crush. But then she turns around, looks at him and smiles, cracks a joke, leans over at some point to lightly grab his arm, like she is letting him on a secret, including him in her own little bubble, and there’s nothing he can do to stop the joy from bubbling over in his heart.

a/n: all my f1 fanfics have been moved onto here 💕

here's to hoping ferrari can catch up this weekend and I ll have more people than just max to write for 🤌😩

thankyou to the anon for sending in the prompt and aww I m so happy to hear u like my writing 🥰🥰 happy reading 💕

[sadboi-writer]

Dear Jack (Series)

Chapter Four: Dojo Day Afternoon

Summary: The group is introduced to Arthur, who shows interest in Y/N. When Y/N tells him no, he starts causing chaos around the dojo. Jack retaliates.

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings:Canon-typical violence

After their argument Y/N was avoiding Jack as best she could. Only seeing him at the dojo. 

When they walked in that following Monday, there was a pile of concrete rubble in front of the others. 

“I’m going to get a smoothie.” Eddie grumbled, “Hey, Y/N.”

“Hey, Eddie.” Y/N greeted

There was a muffled flushing and then plunging noise coming from Rudy’s office. 

“No, don’t you die on me! It’s not your time!” Rudy’s muffled voice insisted

“What’s going on in there?” Milton asked

“Rudy’s fighting with his toilet again.”Y/N sighed, walking up a rapping on the door, “Rudy stop plunging Myrtle!”

He stumbled out of his office in full plumber gear, “Poor Myrtle, I almost lost her. Twice I had to plunge her back to life!”

“How do you know if a toilet’s a boy or a girl?” Jerry asked

Rudy gestured, “Well, you take the top off the tank and reach your arm in and feel around-”

“Stop!” Milton insisted, “I think I’d rather hear about this in an awkward conversation with my father!”

“Rudy, focus!” Kim snapped, “The new owner of the mall is gonna be here any minute!”

Eddie ran in, “Hey! You guys gotta check this out! These brochures are all over the place! This new owner is making some big changes!”

Y/N took the pamphlet from him and glanced over it. 

Kim looked, “Hey! They finally took the baby changing area out of the food court! And if you ask me, that was a big step in the right direction!”

“No way!” Eddie exclaimed, “They’re bringing in a Captain Corndog!”

“Oh snap! That’s a classy joint!” Jerry said, “Yeah, my sister got married in a Captain Corndog! The captain walked her down the plank himself!”

“Look at that huge new parking lot!” Milton pointed out

Y/N took the pamphlet back, “Where’s the dojo?” 

Eddie looked over her shoulder, “There’s a parking lot where our dojo should be!”

Y/N sat down on a bench and kept looking over the pamphlet. There was no other area for the dojo. It wasn’t just being moved, it was being destroyed. After a while, Kim sat down next to her.

“What are we going to do?” Y/N asked

Kim shrugged, “Rudy will figure something out.”

Rudy had headed into the locker room to change to meet the new owners. And he came out soon after, looking way more presentable. Not five minutes later, the new owner strolled in with a boy who seemed to be the rest of the group's age. 

Rudy stepped forward extending his hand, “Mr.Turner! Welcome to my dojo!”

Mr.Turner smiled, “Nice to meet you, Rudy! This is my son, Arthur!”

“Hello, sir!” The boy said, eagerly shaking Rudy’s hand, “What a wonderful dojo you have here! Let me ask you: How do you do it? A sensei, a businessman, and obviously a male model!”

Rudy got flustered, “Uh, yeah... I don’t know-totally, it’s-well- Look at me!”

“Arthur, go make some friends while Rudy and I talk!” Mr.Turner told his son

Arthur smiled, “Yes, daddy! You and Rudy go have a good talk, alright? I’ll just be out here with the gang!” 

Mr.Turner and Rudy went into Rudy’s office. As soon as the door shut, Arthur’s entire demeanor shifted. Jack was the first to greet him.

“Hey, I’m Jack. How ya doing?”

“So!” Arthur interjected, “What do you losers do all day around this dump?Sit around and pretend to know karate?” 

He punctuated his sentence by flailing his arms around. 

Jerry puffed his chest, “Pretend to know karate? Check this out,”

Jerry readied himself, and Y/N finally stepped forward to join the group. Jerry stepped back.

“Go ahead, show him Jack!” 

Jack rolled his eyes, but turned to a practice dummy. The group started cheering him on. He did a roundhouse kick and knocked the head off the dummy. Arthur rolled his eyes, he glanced at Y/N and smirked.

“That was nothing!” Arthur insisted, “You guys want to see some real karate moves?”

He took the bow staff from Milton. 

“Watch this!” He proclaimed

He swung it around wildly while shrieking. Y/N looked away out of embarrassment. He broke one of the trophies.

“Uh oh.” He panicked, before throwing the bow staff back to Milton

Rudy and Mr.Turner emerged from the office.

“What was that?” Rudy demanded

“I can’t believe it, sir! That kid just busted up all your trophies!” Arthur lied

“Milton you are in big trouble!” Rudy scolded

Jack stepped forward, “What? It wasn’t Milton, it was Arthur!”

“Oh,” Rudy softened, “Well, accidents happen. And thank you for showing us what a dangerous place that is to keep trophies! Now, everyone give our newest member Arthur a big Bobby Wasabi welcome!”

Mr.Turner started clapping and so did Jerry. Y/N slowly joined in to not seem rude. Meanwhile the rest were just standing there, in shock.

The next day, Kim was whaling on a practice dummy as Eddie held it. He groaned as he let go of it.

“Kim, take it easy!” Eddie whined

Kim sighed, “Sorry, I’m just tired of being looked at as just another pretty face.” 

Jerry nodded, “Welcome to my world, sister!”

“I mean, what’s the point of being a reporter for the school TV station if Margaret Bork just thinks I’m some airhead southern belle who can’t do real news?” Kim vented

Arthur came in laughing, dragging Jack along with him. Y/N glanced their way as they hit a training dummy again. 

“OH, you guys should have seen what we just did!” Arthur cackled, “It was a riot! It was like taking candy from a baby!”

Jack rolled his eyes, “That’s what you actually did, Arthur. You took candy from a baby.”

Y/N laughed, Jack glared at her. 

“Hey, uh, can I get in on that?” Jerry asked before taking a piece of licorice, “Thanks, nothing tastes better than something stolen from a baby!”

Jack stormed off into Rudy’s office, and the others went back to what they were doing. Y/N approached Arthur.

“Hey,” She greeted

He seemed surprised, “Oh, uh, hey.”

She nodded at the licorice, “Can I steal a piece?”

He nodded and handed her one. Y/N bit a piece off and chuckled as she chewed. 

“What’s so funny?” Arthur asked

Y/N shook their head, “I just think it’s funny that you got Jack to just stand there while you nabbed this.”

“It’s not like he was gonna do anything,” Arthur replied

“So true.” Y/N chuckled, “Hey, do you wanna go get something to eat?”

He seemed even more surprised at that but nodded. Y/N smiled and grabbed their things. 

Jerry quirked a brow, “Where are you going?”

“Arthur and I are going to get something to eat.” Y/N replied as they headed for the door where Arthur was waiting

After the two had left Jack came out of Rudy’s office. When he didn’t see Arthur or Y/N he immediately approached Kim.

“Where did Y/N go?” Jack demanded

Kim looked at him, “She went to get something to eat with Arthur.”

His face got slightly red, “She can’t do that!” Kim turned on him, “Why can’t she!” “None of us likes him!” Jack tried to defend, “She can’t just take hiim out on a date or whatever!”

“So, you’re jealous?” 

“No, I am not jealous!”

“You so are.”

“I so am not!”

Kim chuckled, “Whatever, Jack.”

Meanwhile, Y/N and Arthur were sitting at a table in Falafel Phil’s laughing. Y/N took the wrapper off their straw half-way and blew through to shoot the other half at Arthur. 

“So, let me get this right?” Arthur chuckled, “You and the pasty kid sumo wrestled a professional sumo wrestler because you felt guilty?”

“Oh yeah,” Y/N affirmed, “I had a bruised back for like a week. Milton had to help me down stairs.” Arthur perked up, “Oh! I got you guys a gift, do you want to see?”

Y/N nodded and Arthur pulled out his phone, showing them the new pristine practice dummy he had ordered and was meant to get to the dojo the next day.

“That’s really nice Arthur!” Y/N complimented

They checked their watch, “I have to go, but we have to do this again sometime! I’ll see you tomorrow!”

Y/N left with a wide smile on their face. On their way out they ran into Jerry, who was also heading home.

“Hey,” Jerry greeted

“Hey,” Y/N replied

“How was your date?”

Y/N smacked his shoulder, “It wasn’t a date! And it was good. Arthur isn’t too bad.”

The two parted ways, to go home. The next day, when Y/N entered the dojo Arthur was sitting there with the new dummy. The rest of the group exited the locker room. And Arthur stood, shooting Y/N a smile.

“What’s this?” Jack asked

“It’s a gift!” Arthur answered, “I know I’ve been a little bit of a jerk.”

“A little bit of a jerk?” Jack asked, “That’s like saying Jerry’s a little bit confused.”

“What?” Jerry asked, “Wait, what did I miss? I’m confused.”

“He’s trying to be nice, Jack.” Y/N snapped

Arthur smiled at her, “Look, to show that I’m not all bad, I got you guys this brand new state of the art punching dummy!”

“You know what, Arthur?” Jack said, “Maybe I had you wrong. If Y/N trusts you, I guess I do too.”

“Now that’s more like it!” Jerry cheered, “I think I should be the one to break this bad boy in!”

Jerry punched it in the face and the stomach opened letting out a spring punch. Y/N went to his side instantly.

“Oh my god, Jerry are you okay?” Y/N asked

Jack and Kim helped Jerry off the floor as Y/N rounded on Arthur.

“What the hell,Arthur?” Y/N shouted, “I gave you the benefit of the doubt! I thought you were alright! And now you do this!”

She punctuated every sentence with a poke to his chest.

Jack stepped forward, “Alright, that’s it-”

Kim stopped him, “No, Jack, you promised Rudy... but I didn’t.”

Eddie stopped Kim, “No, Kim, I want him all to myself.”

Milton stopped Eddie, “No, Eddie,this one’s all me.”

Milton turned on Arthur, then back to the rest of the group.

“Wait, why can’t Jack do this?” Milton pleaded

Y/N glared at Arthur, “It’s fine guys,let’s just start practice.”

Jack looked at her, and her eyes pleaded with him. Until he nodded in agreement. Arthur pushed Y/N out of the way.

“Woah, woah, woah, Jack!” Arthur prodded, “ I got this! Since Rudy’s not around and I outrank everyone, I’ll lead the class!”

“Are you nuts?” Eddie demanded, “You don’t outrank Jack!”

“Really? See, I don’t know if you noticed...” Arthur taunted, “But, I’m a green belt!” 

“Yeah,” Kim snapped, “Because your daddy bought it for you.”

Arthur stepped forward, “Jack, you don’t know anything about karate. You’re nothing but a scrawny little skate rat.”

“Arthur, would you just shut up?” Y/N demanded

Jack glowered at Arthur, “And you’re nothing but a spoiled little poser.”

The group chuckled at that. 

“Poser, huh?” Arthur snapped, “That’s it.”

Arthur ran at Jack.

“Jack don’t!” Y/N insisted

But, Jack hadn’t heard her and had already thrown him into the wall. 

“You’re gonna be sorry you did that!” Arthur shouted

Not a moment later Rudy and Mr.Turner entered the dojo.

“What’s going on?” Mr.Turner demanded

“It’s a good thing you’re here, dad!” Arthur cried, “I was just saying my prayers and eating my vitamins when Jack threw me into this wall!”

Mr.Turner turned to Rudy, “We had a deal, Rudy! You said this was a warm, safe environment where Arthur could learn karate and make friends!”

“Jack!” Rudy stumbled, “Did you throw Arthur into our wall of friendship?”

The group hesitantly nodded and agreed with what he said. Rudy ran to the wall and helped Arthur out of it. 

“They don’t do that to just anyone!” Rudy insisted, “They must really like you! Don’t you, Jack?”

Y/N stepped forward, “It wasn’t Jack’s fault. Arthur came at him first.”

Jack looked at Y/N with thanks in his eyes.

“He came at Jack, Jack came at him, it’s a big coming atcha party!” Rudy continued, “Alright, back to practice you lovable, scamps!”

“Rudy,” Mr.Turner snapped, “This is unacceptable, I want Jack and Y/N thrown out of your dojo!”

Y/N turned on her heel to look at the two. Glancing quickly at Jack, who was also frozen in shock.

“What?” They all asked

Arthur smirked, “Buh-bye, Jack and Y/N”

Rudy stood his ground, “I’m sorry, Mr.Turner, but that’s not gonna happen.”

“Alright then,” Mr.Turner stepped forward, “You have two hours to get out. You’re standing on the site of my new parking lot. Come on, son.”

Arthur was ushered out of the dojo by Mr.Turner. Tears brimmed Y/N’s eyes, one way or another she was losing this dojo. Rudy argued with his toilet for a second. 

Jack and Y/N decided to kick themselves out. Rudy stopped Jack.

“Put your stuff back, you’re not leaving.” Rudy insisted

Jack sighed, “If we don’t go, you guys lose the dojo.”

“We lose it either way.” Y/N said, “We’re not going to take it away from you guys.”

Rudy placed his hands on one of each of their shoulders.

“No, you;re not going.Sometimes in life, a man has to decide what’s really important,” Rudy said, two men started to carry his toilet away, “Oh hey! Not the toilet, take the kids instead!”

“Rudy!” Milton protested

“I’m sorry, but you’ve never sat on her.”

Jerry stepped up, “We’re not gonna take this, man! We gotta fight the power, yo!”

Jack dropped his duffle, “Jerry’s right! We’ve got to fight back! Like that guy on Meyer Avenue!”

“He chained himself to that old tree so that it wouldn’t be cut down!” Y/N continued

Kim nodded, “He stood his ground and saved that tree!”

“Until it fell over in a storm, destroyed my Aunt Verna’s house and she had to move into my room!” Milton complained, “I’ve seen things no boy my age should see.”

“You know what, you guys are onto something!” Rudy agreed, “What Turner’s doing is wrong, and we gotta fight back!” “What are you saying, Rudy?”Jerry asked

“I’m saying they can’t tear down the dojo if I’m chained to that post!” Rudy clarified, “And I will fight the good fight for as long as it takes! So chain me up!”

The group all cheered encouragement for him. 

“Get these things off of me! I can’t take it! I’m going crazy!” Rudy shrieked after he’d been chained up

“Rudy! It’s only been three minutes!” Jack replied

Kim stormed out of the side room, “Yeah, well if it’s such a great story then why not report it yourself?! That was Margaret, apparently Taco Tuesday is becoming Fajita Friday.”

“Yes!” Milton praised, “You slip the lunch lady $10 and a cat calendar and you can move mountains, baby!”

Eddie sighed, “All this talk about food is making me hungry, I’m gonna go over to Honeybuns to hook us up!”

“No!” Jerry protested, “You can’t go out there, man! That’s just what they want! You go out that door, it’s like we’ve given up!”

“Well, eventually we’re gonna need something to eat!” Kim reasoned

Eddie looked up, “You know, our air vent connects with the nail salon. Those ladies are always snacking on something.”

“Yeah!” Jack stood, “He’s right!”

Jerry nodded, “Yeah, but who’s skinny enough to fit through that vent?”

All their eyes went to Milton. 

“Oh.” Milton said, before the realization hit him, “Ohhhhh!”

Milton stripped his over shirt, leaving him in a  wife beater tank top. He threw the over shirt and hit Y/N in the face with it.

“Agh! Milton!” Y/N complained

Jack and Jerry hoisted Milton up to the vent. And there was a humming noise. Y/N glanced around.

“I think the exhaust vent just turned on!” Y/N announced

“What makes you say that?” Jerry asked

Then Milton was sucked up into the vent, Jack chuckled.

“Oh nothing in particular.” Y/N continued

They all sat together, waiting for anything to happen. About half an hour later, Turner showed up. Jack was the first on his feet.

“Look, Turner just showed up with some people!” Jack pointed out

The man had a megaphone and made an announcement.

“Attention dojo squatters, you have five minutes to get out.” Turner hollered, “We are bringing in a wrecking ball.”

“You don’t scare us, Turner!” Rudy shouted, before lowering his voice, “That whole bringing in a wrecking ball routine is the oldest trick in the book!”

Y/N kept their eyes outside, “That is a very real wrecking ball.”

“What?” Rudy demanded, “Unchain me, you fools!”

“Dude, we can’t!” Jerry said, “You gave the keys to Milton!”

Rudy panicked, “What? No! It can’t end like this! I never sat in a hot tub full of pudding! No wait, yes I did... no that was custard.”

Jerry peeked outside, “Nothing brings in a crowd like a wrecking ball! They’re totally on our side. You can feel the love!”

A muffled chant of “Knock it down!” began. Jerry glared outside before sticking his head out.

“Why don’t you guys shut your pie holes!” He shouted

Y/N slumped on the ground across from Rudy. Kim stood up straight as she got an idea.

“I just realized I’m in the middle of a huge story!” Kim announced, “Five kids from our school fight a great injustice!”

Jack glanced outside, “Well you better get out there, because it looks like your friend Margaret just showed up.”

“Oh no she didn’t,” Kim stormed out, “Not today, Margaret! Not today!”

Turner pulled out his megaphone again, “In two minutes we’re turning this place into a parking lot!”

Jerry looked at the four who were left, “I’m going out there.”

Then he stepped outside.

“Alright, now I got some demands, people,” He started, “Now, we’re gonna need a big bag of cheeseburgers, some fries, some juice boxes, and throw in some of those glow in the dark straws! They make drinking fun, yo!”

A guy in the crowd shouted, “Your demands stink!”

“Bro I wasn’t finished!” Jerry whined, “And I’m also gonna need a couple of helicopters flown by supermodels!” 

“Now those are some demands!” The same guy shouted

Jerry got the crowd to cheer Wasabi.

Y/N looked out the window, and saw Arthur climbing into the wrecking ball control center.

“Guys!” Y/N shouted, “Look!”

The wrecking ball started swinging around. 

“I got this,” Jack insisted before running outside

Y/N was quick to follow but stayed in front of the door. They blocked it with their body, if anything was happening to this dojo they were going with it. The ball swung toward them, and they leaned back.

“Y/N get out of the way!” Jack shouted

Pushing the door in slightly as the wrecking ball lightly tapped them and the dojo. As soon as it stopped, Y/N went inside.

“That was horrifying.” Y/N gasped out as Jerry pulled them into a tight hug

“You’re insane.” Jerry replied

Turner was the next person in the door.

“Is everyone okay in here?” He asked

Rudy sighed, “Look, Turner, you win. Alright, just go ahead and take your dojo back! Put up your parking lot! But, you know what? We’re proud! And we will hold our heads high!”

Rudy lifted his arms and the chains fell from around him.

“Really?” Rudy whined, “Hands over the head, that’s all it took.”

Jack ran inside pushing Arthur in ahead of him. 

“I think this belongs to you.” Jack said

Once they were both in he ran to Y/N. Doing a once over to make sure she was okay before pulling her into a bone crushing hug.

Turner rounded on his son, “Arthur, how could you do something like this? You endangered Y/N’s life! I’ve given you everything!” “Maybe that’s the problem.” Rudy said

“What do you mean?” Turner asked

“Well, this dojo might not be much,” Rudy continued, “But it’s built on the principle’s of discipline and respect. A couple of things Arthur obviously doesn’t have.”

“Blah, blah, blah,” Arthur groaned, “Look, can we just knock down the little dump now, dad?”

“No,” Turner snapped, “He’s right. I’m sorry, Rudy. Your dojo can stay.”

“Yes!” They all cheered

Jack picked Y/N up in a hug and spun them.

“Arthur, get in the car!” Turner snapped, “You’re grounded!”

Arthur quirked an eyebrow, “Grounded? What does that even mean?”

Jack smirked as he set Y/N down, “I think you’re about to find out.”

“Buh-bye, Arthur!” Y/N mocked

Turner pushed Arthur out of the dojo, leaving only the gang inside. 

“Jack, what you did was incredible!” Rudy complimented

Jack shook his head, “ It wasn’t just me! We all did it!... Wait a minute, has anyone seen Milton?”

Once everything was said and done the dojo was empty. Rudy was in his office and everyone else had gone home. Y/N sat on the bench, rubbing the spot on her sternum where the wrecking ball had tapped. A few moments passed before she felt a weight next to her. 

Jack glanced at her, “You shouldn’t have put yourself in harm’s way like that.”

“You jumped on top of the wrecking ball,” Y/N replied with a chuckle, “I am far from the one who was in the most danger.”

There was a moment of silence and Y/N looked at the ground.

“About what happened after the thing with Truman-” Jack started

Y/N stood, “Can we just forget that it happened? I’d rather things just go back to normal.”

Jack sunk in on himself a bit, “Yeah. Of course, yeah, it never happened.”

“Awesome. I’ll see you tomorrow, Jack.” Y/N said before leaving

Jack watched after her before mumbling under his breath, “I have a crush on you too.”

[catofthecanals289]

i would love a max wants to propose snippet plzzz

i've posted this before ages ago, hope it holds up ;)

--

“So, are you going to spend the entire evening on your phone?” Victoria asks, as she sits down on the couch next to him, causing him to reflexively put down his phone –face down.

It’s not really fair of her to tease him like this, not when he literally hasn’t been on his phone all night and only picked it up when she got up to dump their takeout containers in the trashcan of the apartment Max only ever stays in when he has to be in Milton Keynes for more than a day or two in one go. It’s not that he minds hotels and that the apartment feels much different than one with as little time as he spends there, but still. He already lives in hotels half the year it feels like, it’s nice to have a place that he can at least call home even if it’s not. Plus, Victoria likes to use it when she makes a weekend trip to London. Although that has gotten less too, with the two kids and all. Which-

“Have you called him yet?” he asks in counter to her little jab, causing her to roll her eyes.

“These kind of news are best delivered in person.” Gently she places a hand on her stomach, soft smile on her lips, despite the challenging glint in her eyes.

He’s the first person to know, this time, and only because it’s his bathroom she took the test in and Max still feels a little crazy about it all –his little sister being pregnant with her third baby. Only him and her knowing –the only two people in the world. It makes him feel like he’s eight years old again, the both of them whispering secrets to each other under the covers of his bed, trying to block out their parents’ yelling.

No one’s yelling now, and Max isn’t scared. He’s just happy for her. Her and her little family.

It’s not what gave him the idea –he’s been toying with it for a while, if he’s being honest- but it’s what had spurred him to finally typing the words into the search bar, fingertips a little bit sweaty.

“Max?” Victoria says, head tilted slightly. “Where’s your head?”

He snorts. “Right here.”

“Mhm.” She looks at him skeptically, then after a moment, giving him a slight nudge she asks: “Everything good with Daniel?”

Flushing a little, Max nods, his phone feeling hot in his hands. “Uh, yeah. He’s in Surrey today, but he said he’d be here tomorrow. Or maybe tonight, depending how quickly they finish up.”

“Is that why you’ve been glued to your phone?” Victoria asks, teasing tone back in her voice. “Because you’re waiting for him to tell you that he’s on his way?”

“No.”

Max rolls his eyes, for good measure. It’s maybe only half true, because Max is definitely looking forward to Daniel and him being in the same place again, but it’s not what he’s been doing on his phone, which- He shoots her a glance ,hesitant for a moment, before he realizes how fucking stupid that is because it’s Victoria. His little sister. She’s probably the person he’s closest to, right up there with Daniel and his mom. And it’s not like he can tell Daniel about this just yet.

“I’ve been, uhm.” He clears his throat, unlocking his phone again so he can thumb open the website he’s been scrolling through before she interrupted him. “Looking at stuff. At –these.”

He holds out his phone to her.

She takes it, eyes already wide.

“Max…” she says, softly after barely a moment.  “You’re going to-”

“Yes,” he says, and fuck, what a terrifying thing to admit, despite the wave of excitement that surges up inside of him at the thought. It’s crest is made of fear. That Daniel will say no. That he’ll say yes, and Max won’t be good enough for him to not regret it. That it’s a stupid, little fantasy, nothing more, and most of all that-

“-I’ll have to tell dad. About me and Daniel,” he says, as Victoria scrolls down the website, looking at the quite limited number of engagement rings made for men, and the endless selection for women. “I know that. If we get married then- Yeah. And I know that dad isn’t going to like it, but I want-” He exhales, gesturing to his phone. “-that. I want to ask him. And I want him to say yes, and I don’t know. Be fucking married to him.”

He thinks about Daniel wearing a ring on his finger, a ring that Max put there and not just as an expensive gift but as a promise, a vow. He thinks about having a paper signed by the both of them putting a name to what they have that they don’t need but Max wants anyway. He thinks about waking up every morning knowing that Daniel married him. That he looked at Max and just fucking picked him. Chose him. Is choosing him. Every day for the rest of their lives. Or life. Together.

And Max knows, he knows that he doesn’t need a marriage certificate to trust that Daniel is committed to him and it’s not even about that really, knows that his issues, his worries and doubts, they’ll always be there for Max to work on, but he wants it anyway.

He wants to be Daniel’s and for Daniel to be his.

“Max, I think that’s wonderful,” Victoria says, eyes shiny. “Really, really wonderful. Shit.”

Pulling him into a hug, she squeezes him tightly.

“He’s going to say yes, I know it, I just know it,” she says, a she holds her back just as tightly, before letting go. “And dad, he’ll just have to deal. It’ll be fine. It’ll be- Fuck. We need to find a proper ring. Shit. We should go to London tomorrow, go to some actual stores instead of-” She waves dismissively at his phone.

“Daniel’s coming here tomorrow though,” Max reminds her. Or tonight. If I’m lucky, tonight.

“Well, he’ll just have to entertain himself then,” Victoria says, unbothered, a gleeful look on her face. “Fuck. I’m going to have another baby, and you’ll be getting married. And win another world championship. This is going to be our year, Max. You hear me? Our year.”

“Hey. Don’t jinx me. Don’t jinx us,” he says, cheeks flushed, just as his phone buzzes with an incoming text.

It’s from Daniel.

finishing up now! See you in two hours [kiss emoji]

Max can’t help but smile.

hurry is all he texts back.

[holdmytesseract]

New Old World

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader feat. Teddy Dixon

Summary: Being stranded in the Commonwealth changed the life for you and your little family. Adjusting to this new, yet old world wasn't easy. Neither for you, nor Daryl and certainly not for Teddy...

Warnings: uhhh... TWD things? fluff, talks of babies? swear words, Daryl being the smol insecure bean he is, age gap? changed up time line?

Set in the Commonwealth!

Word Count: 3,2k

a/n: Finally another Daryl story - yay! Ahhh, I missed this. And him. 🫠So... I wanted to write for Teddy again, @fictive-sl0th had this idea, we talked and well... I wrote it. 😁 Season 11 Daryl just gives us major dilf vibes... 👀🤷🏼‍♀️ I hope y'all like it! 🥰 And oh, I should mention that I changed up the timeline a bit. The Commonwealth happens sooner. Teddy was five in season 3 and now he's ten in season 10/11.

Tagging: (in the comments ☺️)

Life in the commonwealth was strange - and yet so familiar. It felt like getting thrown into another dimension. Another world. Well, perhaps it was normal to feel like this after five years of fighting for survival every day in the middle of a zombie apocalypse. You had seen every cruelty this world had to offer and now... Suddenly you landed in this community, where the most people's worry wasn't the undead anymore, but how to… earn money? It felt wrong and nevertheless you couldn't deny that it was somehow... right.

Two strong, yet soft hands on your waist ripped you out of your thoughts and daydreams. "What yer thinkin' about, sunshine?" You smiled at hearing the gravelly, loving voice of your husband from behind you. Reaching up your hand, you buried your hand in your lover's hair. It had grown so much the past years. The dark brown strands reached in soft curls over his shoulders by now - and you absolutely loved it. "Just about this... What we have here..." The answer you got was nothing more than a low grunt. You knew Daryl didn't trust this place yet - and you understood why. Money, jobs, restaurants and Halloween? Oh please...

But on the other hand... A piece of normalcy and not fighting the dead, other people and death itself was what you all wanted - and it broke your heart that Alexandria couldn't be that for you at the moment.

"I still dunno 'bout all this... Feels... weird." You nodded. "I know, but... Until we can go back home, let's make the most out of it, yeah?" Daryl didn't answer, just huffed out a breath. Not unusual for the man who didn't need much words. Instead, he gently moved; went to press your back against his chest - which felt hard and not really comfortable, like you noticed instantly. Turning in his embrace, you realised why... Daryl wore his commonwealth uniform. Right, you remembered. Your man had suddenly a job again and was working. "Are you off to work, cutie pie?" You witnessed, how Daryl's cheeks reddened softly at your chosen pet name. "Yeah... Jus' wanted to say goodbye, 'fore I leave." You nodded; scanning his handsome face with your eyes. He had grown over the years - of course. Got even more mature and responsible-minded. You sensed major DILF energy radiating from him.

"How sweet of you," you said, leaning closer to place a soft, quick kiss on his lips. "Have fun - I guess, and don't let yourself get stressed so much. I know Sebastian Milton is an asshole, but you and Rosita will make it. Think about picking Teddy up from school with your cool stormtrooper armour. He's going to lose it - and he'll be so proud, seeing his dad being one of the 'cool soldier guys'."

School... Another crazy thing. Sure, you tried to teach Teddy a few things and there had been a lot of small education thingys in the past five years. Be it in the prison or Alexandria. It had always been there but this? This was a whole other thing. This was a real school. With real teachers and actual classes. Something you hadn't seen in over seven years.

"Ya think so?" You smiled and gently scratched his slightly grey goatee; feeling the hairs tickling your fingertips. "I know so." You then stood on your tiptoes, in order to involve Daryl in another loving kiss. But a firm knock on the door of your sparse, small apartment caused you to jump apart; ending the kiss way too early. "Daryl?" Rosita's voice sounded from the other side of the door. "We gotta go!" You sighed; wrapping your arms tighter around your husband's neck. "Seems like duty calls..." "Mhm..." Daryl grumbled and turned his head towards the door. "'M comin', Rosita!" He lifted his hands to your arms, trying gently to loosen them from around his neck - but you kept on holding on; not budging. "I gotta go, sunshine." You pouted, but eventually let go of him. "I know, 'm sorry. But I promise, I'll be back soon." You nodded and watched with crossed arms, how Daryl grabbed his helmet; ready to leave. "What are you up to today?" You shrugged your shoulders. "I dunno. Perhaps I'll visit the rest of the fam." Daryl nodded; knew of course what you meant, and walked towards the door. "I love you. Be careful, yes?" "Love ya, too. Don' worry. I always am. 'Sides, Rosita's gonna hold me back from doing some stupid, headless shit." With those words, he opened the door and marched out. It stayed long enough open for you to see your friend. "Hey Rosita!" You waved at her. "Y/N," the black-haired beauty answered; smiling at you, before the door fell in its hinges.

While your son was at school and your husband at work (It still sounded crazy in your head.), you spent the whole morning with cleaning up the apartment - which mostly consisted of collecting Teddy's small carved artworks. Since his father showed him how to carve something (mostly spears to hunt fishes or other weapons to defend himself) out of wood, he was obsessed. Whenever the opportunity was given, you'd find the boy sitting somewhere underneath a tree - or even up in a tree (the safer option), carving. He practiced year after year and by now, he was really talented. If Teddy just wouldn't leave his little figures and weapons laying all around the apartment...

After that, you decided to take Dog out for a walk. The fluffy Belgian Malinois with the brown-black fur was a faithful companion of your little family, since the day Daryl brought him back from a hunt. Teddy fell for him immediately anyways, so... And as much as Teddy loved Dog, Dog loved Teddy in return. They were a great duo.

"Dog, come on, let's go out. Time for walkies." Dog's ears perked up at your mention of 'walkies'; head lifting. "Come on!" You tapped your thigh - which was his sign to literally jump up and run to you. You giggled; petting and scratching the fur behind his ears. "Let's go." You opened the door and out Dog ran. He was a very loyal and well-behaved animal. Daryl had trained him well. He'd never run off or leave your side - unless he had a good reason.

It was quite a beautiful day today. The commonwealth was bustling with people. Some of them working, some of them enjoying their day off. You hadn't a specific destination in mind, when you took Dog out. Most of the time, Dog decided on where to go. Today, the faithful Malinois led you to a very good friend of yours. A member of the family - without a doubt...

Dog already saw him from afar, grooming a white-brown patchy pony. Dog announced his - and your presence with a loud bark. The man with the black, greyish dreadlocks turned on his heels at the sound. A smile crossed his features, as he saw you and your four-legged companion approaching. Dog ran up to him; tail wagging in excitement. Ezekiel squatted down, in order to welcome Dog. He literally jumped Ezekiel; paws landing on the King's shoulders, causing the man to laugh heartily. Dog liked Ezekiel and Ezekiel Dog. There was no doubt about this. It was fact.

You came to stand beside the pair; Dog still enjoying Ezekiel's petting. "Hey Ezekiel." The King straightened; stood up again, in order to properly face you - much to Dog's disappointment. "Greetings, Y/N. What a pleasure to see you! Tell me, what brings you to my modest, little farm?" You shook your head, smiling. "Dog decided to bring me here. I think he wanted to visit you. Nevertheless, it's great to see you, too." Once again, the man laughed, scratching Dog's head in an affectionate manner. You adored Ezekiel. You really did. He was always so positive. A true ray of sunshine. A very kind man - and now, here at the commonwealth, he was able to do what he loved again... Being a zookeeper.

"How are you feeling today?" You asked him then, referring to his medical condition. "Oh, I'm feeling great, Y/N. Thank you. Better every day." "That's really great and reassuring to hear." He nodded; one hand still petting Dog, who was sitting beside the man now. "Well, if it wouldn't have been for Carol and Tomi, I probably wouldn't be walking this earth anymore as a living man." "That's why we are all a big family. We help each other." The King nodded, "Truer words have never been spoken, dear friend." giving you one of his brilliant smiles. "How is Teddy doing in school? Carol told me he had quite a rough start?" You sighed, nodding. "Yeah, he had... It was after all the first time for him to go to a real school. Sure, he had his friend, Nick. But unfortunately, Nick is in a different class. So many new children and all so much different from him - and Nick. Most of them weren't on the road. Anyways not as long as we were. He never had an easy time adjusting to new, different things. He was quite afraid of attending school."

The corners of Ezekiel's mouth twitched into a small smile. "Well, this sounds to me quite like someone else we know..." You understood that reference, of course. Both, you and Ezekiel knew exactly who you were talking about. You giggled; shrugging your shoulders. "Like father..." "...like son." The King finished your sentence, laughing. "Well, I hope Teddy is able to adjust soon." "I hope so, too. Just have to give him some time..." The man nodded. "I'd say so, too. If you're looking for a little distraction for him, you are more than welcome to send him - and Nick over to me. I promised Teddy to teach him how to ride a horse already quite a while ago. Now, I finally have the time - and opportunity." "Sure, I am definitely going to do that. Thank you." He smiled; nodding. "Of course."

While you were still out with Dog, walking through the whole commonwealth, Daryl made his way to the elementary school, in order to retrieve his son. After all, he had promised him - and since Daryl went to school directly after his shift, he was still dressed in his commonwealth armour. The archer was really looking forward to this. It was his personal highlight of the day.

"I need to pick Teddy up from school," he told his friend. "See ya later?" Rosita nodded. "Sure. I have to look after Coco as well." With that being said, the two long-term friends parted ways.

Daryl made his way to the school then and waited in front of the rather big building for Teddy to come out. It was quite a bit ridiculous for the archer - and also a whole new experience. He would have never thought, that he'd pick up his son from school one day. Not after the world went to shit. Back in the early days, everybody had different problems than sending the kids to school. Surviving, for example. Getting enough food on the table for his family - and all the people who became his family.

"Daddy!" Teddy's happy, relieved voice urged to Daryl's ears; announcing his son's arrival. A soft smile spread over Daryl's face, when he saw his son running towards him. He squatted down; waiting. Teddy ran straight up into his awaiting arms, hugging him. He may be ten years old by now and would soon grow into a man, but for now, he was still Daryl's little boy - and he'd enjoy every hug he got. "Hey, buddy! You good?" Teddy didn't get to answer the question his father asked him. A group of three other boys had approached them.

"Your dad is a commonwealth soldier?" One of them with glasses and bright blonde, tousled hair asked; eyes wide. Teddy nodded proudly; stood beside his still crouching father and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. "Yep, he is!" "Wooow..." Every boy of the group was stunned. Teddy started to smile proudly; his shyness suddenly forgotten, as the boys finally noticed him. Due to his cool dad. It made the young Dixon happy - but he also knew, that they were probably just going to like him because his dad was one of the countless commonwealth heroes.

"Let's get goin', huh? I bet your mother already waits for us..." Daryl noted; noticing immediately what game those boys played. Teddy nodded and turned to his seemingly new friends to say goodbye.

After that, Daryl and Teddy walked home together. "So... How was school?" The little boy shrugged his shoulders; his mood suddenly changing fast. The school topic wasn't an easy one... "Okay, I guess..." "You get better along with them other kids?" Another shrug. "A bit." That didn't sound convincing. Not at all.

Daryl stopped in his movements and turned to face his son. Once again, he squatted down and placed both his hands on Teddy's small shoulders. "Alright, talk ta me, buddy. Don't bottle everythin' up. I used to do that too, y'know. 'S not good. Spit it out." Teddy sighed and bit his lip nervously - a habit he copied from his dad. "I just feel so lonely... 'Specially without Nick... The other kids think I'm weird." Tears were shining in the young boy's blue-grey eyes. Daryl saw it. Despite his long, softly curled bangs of brown hair. "Why?" "Because I'm not as good in school as they are. A-And because I know more about gutting a fish, then our home country..." Daryl's heart ached, as he heard that. He knew how his son felt. He knew the feeling of being an outsider.

"Hey, Teddy... Don't listen to 'em. Ya hear me? I know it's not easy, but always remember... You're so much better than them." Teddy looked up at his father through teary eyes. "H-How?" The archer smiled. "Firstly, 'cause you're a Dixon and secondly, 'cause you're a survivor. You know how to handle a walker. I taught ya everything ya need ta know - except hunting. But we'll do that as soon as you're a bit older. That's why. It might sound hard and cruel, but those kids would never survive out there alone. You do." At those words, Teddy's eyes lightened up again - and he smiled. The same, sweet smile you always smiled. A smile Daryl loved above everything and would never tire to see.

"Really?" The archer nodded. "Really." The boy threw his arms again around his father's neck; hugging him tight.

You were already back home again with Dog, when you heard the front door getting opened and closed again. The barking of Dog echoed through the small apartment, followed by your son's giggles.

Unfortunately, you couldn't spend the rest of the afternoon together, since Daryl had to go back to work. Nevertheless, you had a great day; took the boys out for some riding lessons with Ezekiel and prepared some dinner together with your husband's mini-me. That's what Teddy was - and it hadn't changed over the years. The boy was still his father's spitting image. Even the tattered, ripped jeans hadn't changed. He only had grown into them by now.

Now, you were sitting at the small dining table, together with Daryl and Teddy; eating dinner. Dog was laying on his little blanket; sleeping. Everyone was eating in silence - until Teddy came up with a conversation both, you and Daryl didn't see coming. Like, not at all…

"Mom, dad?" "Yes, sweetie?" You asked, while Daryl only grunted in response; needing to chew first. "We, uh, talked about our families today in class and... Almost every other girl or boy told us about their siblings and how much fun they have with them. I-I know I've got Dog and Judith and RJ and even Coco, but... Can I, uh, can I have my own little baby brother - or sister?" Daryl almost choked on his foot, hearing this, while you blinked rapidly at your ten-year-old. "I-I promise I'll look after him or her a-and protect them and play with them!" "Teddy... Sweetie..." You started; having to swallow hard and take a deep breath. "This, uh, this isn't an easy decision and not just to be made within a few minutes. Especially not in this dangerous world. I- We, your dad and I will have to think and talk about this first, okay?" Teddy looked at you with his soft, blue, greyish eyes - and nodded. "Okay." "Can you understand that?" "Uh.Huh, yeah." The conversation had turned someway, somehow slightly awkward, so you left it at that. Daryl had said absolutely nothing; didn't even make a peep.

Later on, once Teddy was in bed; sleeping safe and soundly with Dog in his arms, you approached your husband, who stood at one of the windows; having a smoke. Wrapping your arms around his now black sweater clad torso, you pressed your cheek against his right upper arm. "What do you say?" "What do I say to what?" You decided to not beat about the bush. "Having a baby again." Daryl took a drag of his cigarette, before puffing out a small cloud of smoke. "I dunno if this is a good idea, honestly." "Why? I mean, we're safe here now. Soon in Alexandria hopefully as well. If not now, then when?" Daryl merely shook his head and you could swear that he was chewing on his bottom lip. "'S not that, sunshine... Even though I don't trust this place. I trust in Alexandria." "What is it then?" You asked; rubbing his sides affectionately. He paused; didn't answer you straight away - almost hesitating.

"'M not gettin' younger, ya know..." You frowned and adjusted your position, in order to look at him. You were hugging him now more or less sideways. "What does that mean now, cutie pie?" "What I said." You were still confused by his words. You clearly didn't understand - and Daryl noticed. "Y/N, 'm in my mid almost late forties now..." "So? I'm sorry, my love, but I don't really see the problem? You don't have to worry about a biological clock, unlike I... And as we speak, the time is running out so slowly." Daryl took a last drag of his cigarette and stubbed it out. Then he turned to face you; biting his lip again. He was clearly troubled by that topic. You could see it in his eyes. "You think 'm not too, uh, old for that?" You shook your head, smiling. "No, absolutely not." The corners of his lips lifted slightly into a crocked smile. "So..." He started; turning to face you wholly. "You really want that? With me?" You cupped both his cheeks with your palms; nodding. "More than anything. I thought about it for quite a while, honestly."

Daryl blinked; was quite a bit surprised. "Wha'? Really?" "Mhm. You're such a good father for Teddy, so why not make you a daddy again?" The arched blushed at your words; and he couldn't help himself but to smile even brighter. "Ya think we can handle a newborn and a soon-to-be teenager?" You giggled; now running your hands down his chest. "I thought we can handle everything, Mr. Dixon? After all, we handled the end of the world. I think there's nothing that can better that." "Well... I guess yer right." You giggled once more. "I'm mostly right, cutie pie."

[spiderfunkz]

hii! i was wondering if you could write something about robin buckley choosing reader to go to europe with her for the summer! (maybe a rebel robin au??) ive never seen anyone write anything about it and id think id be cute!

✧.* operation crossaint!

— summary : summer in hawkins is boring. so, how about a trip to europe?

— pairings : robin buckley x fem!reader

— word count : 0,9k

— warnings : fluff, friends to lovers, oblivious reader kinda, messy plot whoops, foul language, kissing mwah mwah, weird time jumps, not proofread, this is set in the summer btw!! robin & reader is 18 here.

a/n : hi there! thank u for the request anon ^_^ i tried fitting some aspects and references from rebel robin because i couldn't really fit in the whole au and storyline of rebel robin because i don't think it'll fit that well, so sorry about that!!

"operation crossaint?" you question as robin nodded. "just hear me out. i want to live outside of hawkins y/n. i want to know whats outside of this shitty town," she explains.

"it's sounds weird i know but, i want to learn and experience things." she continues.

"so like europe?" you ask, "yes! exactly like europe. i want to travel, meet people who live exactly how they want to, i want to see beautiful museums, and walk down old streets!" she rambles.

you nodded listening to everything she says. "and live off of crossaints and cheese?" you laugh — "mhm!" she nodded.

"i told mr hauser about it and, he told me to take someone with me, and he suggested milton or dash but i was thinking-" she paused, "that maybe you could go with me?" she asks, scrunching her nose.

"or don't, i understand that maybe you have something going on or maybe you focusing on othe-"

"i'll go with you." you stated. "but we literally have 0 dollars and, have you asked your parents?" you ask.

"we can work on that! mr hauser said that he could help talk to my parents which automatically means that he could talk to yours so-" she rambles, "all he said is that if i find someone to take with he could help me. and you said yes."

"yeah well of course, i mean spending any time at all with you and in europe? that sounds like an absolute dream." you smiled.

robin's cheeks grew pink as you stated that. europe? with you? together? is she dreaming right now?

"i'll go work things out, i'll see you tomorrow y/n." she waved.

you were so caught up with the conversation you don't realize you were outside your house now as robin skipped away.

—

robin could barely sleep that night, was she really going to spend her time in europe with you?

god, she was so excited to tell mr hauser all about it. she had already started learning languages she thought might be important for the trip, like french or their culture and stuff.

she is so excited to spend time with you, especially outside of hawkins. the walks you could go with her, the food you get to taste together, the memories she could make.

"jesus, get yourself together buckley." robin sighed, her thoughts haunting her as she slowly falls asleep.

—

you sat down the bus, going home from another miserable day at hawkins high. flipping through the pages of your book, you see robin hoping on, almost missing the bus.

she ignores the taunts of some of the older kids before spotting you and sitting next to you.

"dunno whats their problem," you look back at the older teens mocking robin — "their probably failing another year anyways." you stated, voice a bit louder. "i hope they fall off of the bus." she sighed.

it's been a few weeks since robin told you about 'operation crossaint' and you two just got back from thanksgiving break.

"so, how was your break?" you ask. "amazing actually, i got a job, and i think i can finally afford tickets for two people to go to europe!" she smiles.

"really? that's great! i saved up a bit and i think we can manage. plus, you know extra money for gifts and stuff." you added.

robin was so beyond excited that you stuck by her, the last few weeks everything had been going the total opposite for her, yet you were still there for her in every moment.

"i also bought a camera recently, and we could bring that to our trip. you know? for memories and stuff, so they last forever." you say as robin nodded, smiling wider than ever.

—

and here you are now!

the past weeks is the probably the best few weeks ever. europe, with robin, together.

you two finally get to experience the europe dream, going to museums, eating in fancy cafes, going on trips on a boat, and just living a life outside of hawkins.

you've been carrying your camera around everywhere, documenting your summer with your person.

and for robin, the past few weeks was somewhat of an awakening for her. she finally could understand herself with the help from you and everything around her.

she now understands why she's been feeling a certain way around certain people, especially you. like butterflies fluttering in her stomach, and how her heart feels like its going to explode.

and that brings you here, on a random hill surrounded by pretty flowers and bright stars above.

"heres one where we were at the fair, the ferris wheel looked so pretty here." you showed robin the pictures you've been taking along the trip.

"oh! and these are some cats near by the water, remember? the ones i told you. gosh, they're just so cute." you smile.

you didn't notice how quiet robin was, you could feel her smile but she hasn't said anything.

you look up and notice that she wasn't looking at your camera like you had been doing. she was looking at you.

"what? do i have something on my face?" you questioned.

in robin's defense, you're really pretty. cherry stained lips, gorgeous hair that just falls in place so perfectly, and the prettiest eyes.

"it's not nice to stare buckley." you chuckle, "you're too pretty not too." she replied.

the tension grew as the moon shined, perfectly reflecting robin's freckles.

she moved closer to you, the smell of your perfume overwhelming her.

she kissed you.

you kissed her.

robin pulled away, realizing what she just did, what you just did. your cherry stained lips now staining her.

"i'm sorry i should've-" robin got cut off, your lips connected to hers again. "don't apologize robs." you say, tucking her hair.

"i like you, like, like like you." robin stated — "i like like you too." you replied.

[hungriestheidi]

don't know if i'm ever going to finish this, been rewriting these 700 words for no less than two days, so i may as well share it as it is.

fernando and sebastian, 2025, red bull teammates.

Fernando is leading the championship. Sebastian is third. It is not an unfamiliar situation.

The reflection from neck down is mostly the same, a deep shade of blue with the familiar red splattered in the chest, albeit with some missing and some new stickers. Above the bowtie area is where the situation changes drastically.

The laughter lines are there, not just when his mouth stretches wide and laughter bubbles out of him like champagne, but all the time, the weight of gravity pulling down the plains of his face until he looks more tired than usual. He’s always had this sleepy kitten appeal, or that’s what some said back then, but now he’s tired. All the time. Or almost all the time. 

Not in the care. Never in the car.

Fernando is leading the championship, Sebastian is third. It is not an entirely unfamiliar situation. 

The DNF in Monza felt like stabbing pain, like someone had put a blade through the meat of his thigh, sliced the quadriceps into shreds. He’s limping home from the Parabolica, climbing out of the car in an unceremonious leap into the solid ground. The engine wasn’t the issue, it was the breaks. Something in them decidedly felt wrong during the first few laps, a heat problem unlikely to get sorted remotely. By lap fourteen he was being told the damage was irreparable and his heart sank as he watched the replays of the smoke, blasting grey toxins into the beautiful landscape of the chicane. 

A mechanical DNF while leading. It was a bit of mockery from whoever was above. Charles, second in the championship and standing atop the P1 spot with a smile as bright as the sun, told him a few days later over text, that he knew well what the hell that was like. Sebastian didn’t tell him he knew what this felt like before Charles had even won a single karting championship. He said ‘it sucks, doesn’t it?’ and let’s Charles tell him about the gruesome tale of a bitching season with a fast car, but an unlucky mechanical package. 

Fernando is leading the championship, Sebastian is third. It is an unfamiliar situation. 

It isn’t a matter of where they stand. In 2010, Sebastian was a dark horse strutting into the paddock with a 15 point difference at the last race of the season. All Fernando had to do was finish fourth, but Red Bull pulled a trigger and Ferrari got caught in their scheme and sooner than later became noticeable who had done the right thing. Pole position, race win, championship. The youngest in history. ‘Records have tumbled in front of this man’, the commentator’s voice echoed. The roar of the ensuing victory was heard even in Milton Keynes, popping alcohol in the beating heart of a muslim nation. 

But this is different. Sebastian is still in a Red Bull, and he may be tired and there may be a dreaded weight sitting at the pit of his stomach everytime he has to bear the blunt edge of a sword, pointing fingers because Red Bull always points fingers. There is the familiarity of Britta over his shoulder, the quiet rage of his own ways, tamed after decades in the belly of the beast, Liberty Media only exacerbated the innate problems of a sport fashioned for spectacle and glory. If anything, they blew out of proportion what was meant to be quiet affairs, DTS and head snapping headlines, fans on social media clamouring for a head to quench their thirst on their spilled blood. The beast still bleeds, the cars still beat like hearts, he still feels alive when he takes the 130R at full throttle, pole position by fifteen hundreds of a second. 

Fernando is leading the championship. Sebastian is third. In Australia, Mark interviewed them before the podium. 1-2, Sebastian leading. He said ‘welcome back’ when he looked at Sebastian, he asked ‘how is it like, sharing his debriefs?’ when the cameras turned off. Fernando shrugged, ‘I just turn off my English brain’ and his laugh reverberated through Sebastian’s body when he put a heavy hand on his shoulder and shook him. 

In that brief instance, Fernando, Mark, Sebastian, the throes of a podium bleeding and bruising them, it was like he was twenty three again. He is still young, driving a Red Bull but with better hands, clever hands, with Michael still looming around him like a solid weight and not like a distant memory, with Ferrari as a thought for a different day, and retirement as a buzzword people throw around when they get tired of seeing him win.

Fernando is leading the championship. Sebastian is third. They both have made the not so unfamiliar choice of coming back to the pit, to the lion’s den, and with the solid weight of a bull between their legs, they throw their hat on the arena and each set to win Singapore.

[reddeaddamnation]

RED DEAD REDEMPTION 2 PREFERENCE: Their reaction to your death

Arthur Morgan

"Get me a doctor, come on!" Arthur yelled, galloping into camp with you in front of him, seemingly barely hanging on on the saddle. The gang immediately gathered around, shocked and worried about your condition. "What happened?" Dutch asked. "O'Driscoll boys." Arthur sneered "Ran into us on the way back. Got them to back off but not without trouble."

Miss Grimshaw carefully took you down from the saddle, grimacing at the gushing wound on the side of your belly from a gunshot. "Miss Grimshaw. Put her to lay down somewhere. John, go into town and get a doctor. Quick!" Dutch started barking orders around "Mr. Pearson, give her something for the pain. Arthur..." he looked at the man with a look of sadness and muttered quietly "I'm sorry, son."

"I don't think she's gonna make it." Micah said indifferently, watching Susan carry you away, as you slipped in and out of consciousness while stumbling on your way. "You shut the hell up!" Arthur yelled, jumping down from his horse and grabbing Micah by the shirt "What do you know?" Micah scoffed "I know enough that if there's an exit wound, she's lucky enough to make it here alive enough to say goodbye."

John Marston

Someone ratted you out. This was a trap. The stagecoach was a setup, because as soon as you, Arthur, John and Sadie stopped it, you were overrun by Pinkertons, who chased you into the woods to a cave where you hoped to hide. Except that they cornered you inside and were nearing your hiding spot while Arthur was cursing and looking for a way out discreetly behind some stalagmites. There was a tight opening near them, but you would be too slow to escape in time. You looked at John, heart pounding in your chest as the voices neared. Arthur was urging Sadie to go in the opening and beckoning you to follow her. You squeezed John's hand. "I got this." You got up, ignoring the hushed scolding "Are you insane?", "What are you doing?"

"Sirs." You walked out of the hiding spot slowly, hands up "Agent Milton." You nodded at the Pinkerton. There were at least 15 people aiming at you. "It seems... you caught me. It was a fun chase." You scoffed. "Surrender your weapon, miss L/N." Milton ordered "This doesn't need to get bloody." You slowly dropped your gun to the ground, side eyeing the others, who watched you from behind the rocks. "Where are your associates?" Milton interrogated. "It seems we got split up. I'm lost and they left me behind." You answered, walking closer to them so their attention is only on you.

"This one could be a valuable asset to lure Van Der Linde out of hiding, sir." Agent Ross mumbled to his colleague "With her, we don't even need to look for the others. They will come to us." Until the end, you were sure nobody would shoot. You knew they know how close your gang is. Surely even if you were captured, they would come to save you and the agents knew it. Milton was thinking silently. "You know what, Ross?" He thought "I don't think so." Gunshot. You gasped and hunched over, leaning on one of the rocks, holding your chest, where blood quickly painted your shirt red. "It's easier picking them out one by one."

John wanted to scream. He wanted to jump out and massacre them all. You slid down the stalagmite until you were sat. Your eyes briefly met his before the life drained from them and he was left, locking eyes with a corpse. He was ready to jump out and start shooting, before Arthur grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back roughly. "We'll come back. We'll avenge her. I swear. Let's go."

Charles Smith

How many more people was he going to bury? Lenny, Hosea, Arthur... now... the unthinkable. Saint Denis wasn't a place for you and he was cursing himself for bringing you here ever since you settled in. You always told him how much you hate the big city and how would love to have a homestead somewhere in the countryside... he knew everything about you. How depressed you feel in this grey, corrupt city, how it made you feel chained and small. He swore you will buy a homestead soon when you have money.

But that day never came. Today, tuberculosis finally got the better of you. And Charles blamed everything on himself. From where you contracted the illness, he didn't know. All he knew was that he despised this disease ridden society. He couldn't listen to your painful hacks and coughs day and night without his heart wretching in pain. You were such a shining and bubbly person before the illness dimmed your flame.

After the burial, he sat at your grave all day. Neither crying nor smiling, not thinking or moving. He felt empty. For all he cared from now on he could die too for bringing this upon you. He knew he shouldn't have moved you here... he would blame himself for the rest of his life.

Dutch van der Linde

Guns blazing in the distance. The O'Driscolls scattered, panicked, reaching for their guns. You watched them with a smirk. Dutch was coming. You heard him. "Face me, you scum!" He yelled, mercilessly shooting anyone in his way, his gang behind him. "He's gonna get you now, Colm." You teased your captor "And he won't be as gentle as you were." You sneered menacingly, spitting blood on the ground, which had been drenched in your blood from five days of torture and malnutrition. "Shut your mouth, harlot." Colm was panicking. "I told you but you didn't listen." You laughed "What do you know, huh? We've been through this before, me and Dutch. And I'd do it again." Colm grabbed you by the throat "You're just a disposable toy to him. I bet in a month from now I'd be doing this with another wench I don't even know the name of." You spit in his face, making him back off.

"I'd think you're in love with him more than me, Colm. You're obsessed. You wanna be next in line, huh?" You mocked, laughing loudly to let Dutch know where you are. "Why you..." he grabbed you by the hair and aimed his gun at your neck. "Colm!" Dutch kicked the door in, aiming his gun at Colm's head, along with Arthur and Bill.

The house you were kept in was in a remote place in the mountains near the Grizzlies. Dutch must have rode for days without rest for him to find you so fast. "Here we are again, Dutch." Colm smirked "Too bad I don't have a brother for you to kill nearby."

Dutch growled "It will not happen again. I guarantee it." Silence. Colm thought for a moment before raising his hands "Alright." He cut the ropes holding you up "You win, Dutch. You outnumbered me. I won't be the one to kill her." You fell to the ground, wrists sore from the days of being hung up. Colm backed away towards a window. "My darling Y/N." Dutch held out his hand, but not leaving Colm out of sight "Let's get out of here."

You were about to stand up when a gunshot pierced your side and Colm disappeared through the window, broken by the bullet. "No!" Dutch screamed falling to his knees to hold you. He didn't have any words left to describe his hatred for Colm. No punishment would be enough for him. Arthur ran to the window but quickly ducked before the sniper could shoot him. "Y/N.." Dutch caressed your cheek "I'm here." History was repeating itself. "Dutch..." you whispered before passing out. If he didn't have a reason to live before, Dutch was now determined to destroy Colm O'Driscoll's life and give him the most painful death.

[kamotecue]

in the end, is it you and i? ❆ l. williamson

pairing: leah williamson x reader

a little blurb, based on something i saw on tiktok.

nothing could ever describe how you’re feeling right now. maybe it’s the fact that you’re utterly in love with your childhood best friend from milton keynes, leah williamson. one of england’s pride and joy, england captain and a european champion.

despite being childhood best friends, you played for different teams. you represented your mother’s side, the netherlands rather than your father, england.

a little hum made its way, as you stared at the night sky. it was something you’d look at while you’re overthinking things. the calming, cool breeze you’d experience as you laid on the rooftop, with a telescope— one that you use to look at the stars, and planets.

“you left early.” lee’s voice rang, as her head peeked out of the bedroom window—her eyes were set on you. while you closed your eyes, trying not to look at the one you were hopelessly in love with.

“not a fan of crowds, lee.” you replied, shivering slightly at how cold it was outside. a blanket was settled around your body, the english defender joining you.

“i know, always a shy one.” leah said, as you hummed, draping a part of the blanket over her. you refused to look at her—maybe it’s the way your body sparked with jealousy, after you saw her with another girl from the event.

but how could you? you don’t have a right to feel jealous, because she’s not yours. will she ever be yours?

“but you’re one, so tell me williamson—why did ya leave?” there were times you called her by her last name, it would annoy her to the point where she’d have to tickle you.

“i looked for you.” it was the sentence that gave you hope, it always did. there were moments where you’d questioned if she felt the same, if she’s into you like you’re into her.

“you have to stop, lee.” a tiny scoff left your mouth, as leah perked up, a bit confused by your sudden behavior.

“stop what, n/n?” her voice trembled, something that never really happened. she was always the confident one of the pair, you were the introvert one.

“giving me false hope.” you finally said, looking into her eyes—the ones you loved so much, the ones you fell for. and it felt like time had stopped, you were captivated by her, always was.

“i love you, leah. i have been in these past few years, but you’re always with another girl. and i didn’t tell you, because i was afraid that our friendship would be ruined.” you huffed out, leah had a few tears in her eyes.

“y/n, i-“ you didn’t even give her a chance to complete her sentence, being overwhelmed that you actually confessed your feelings.

“and i suffered alone, keeping this as a secret. it’s pathetic really, how much i still hope it’s you and me in the end.”

you felt her body shift closer to you, her eyes were set on your lips—while you looked behind her, afraid of what she’ll say.

she leaned in, her forehead was pressed against yours. the agonizing feeling, the way your ears were turning red, despite it being covered by a beanie.

“i-“ love you, was what she wanted to say.